Chapter 27

The Girl in the Yellow Dress

It was not that Arthur had made a big mistake in coming to the Autumn Ball. He would rather be spending his Saturday doing something else, like gaming with Buster. That was all. He thought about this as he stood on the royal-blue end line of MCM's painted basketball court. He had been looking out at the near-stagnant crowd of students for several seconds now as he reevaluated his choices. His gaze broke away when he felt someone staring at him, and he turned to see Sue Ellen at his side, regarding him with a smile. It dawned on Arthur that he probably should return it, and he did, though it felt weak, even to him.

At least I'd be in comfortable clothes if I had stayed at home.

Something toward the back of the gym caught Sue Ellen's eye, and she directed Arthur's attention by pointing to it with one hand and grabbing his shoulder with the other. "Look over there—those are the trees, my collaboration with George."

Arthur stopped himself before he could recoil at her touch, which had been his first impulse. But why? Instead, he reined it in; his shoulders merely tensed, and his spine went rigid. He took in the apple trees Sue Ellen and George had talked about so much. George had been responsible for their construction, and Sue Ellen had painted them. As committee members, both had considered the trees to be their crowning achievement, their most important contribution to the Autumn Ball's legacy. George had been excited that his original idea got the green light, and Sue Ellen had been happy to help create decorations that, not only were reusable, but would serve a dual purpose in the spring musical as well. Arthur had to admit they looked great, and the fake grove seemed fuller thanks to their inclusion. He told Sue Ellen this, adding, "I can tell you guys worked really hard. You should be proud of yourselves."

"Oh, we are," Sue Ellen said, "even if George is really humble about it."

Their smiles remained, but the conversation died off. Arthur went back to staring. He was not sure what they were supposed to do. From the look of the crowd, neither was anyone else.

"Why don't we dance?"

That had been Sue Ellen.

"What?" said Arthur.

"The Autumn Ball is a dance," she said simply, but her eyes betrayed an eager glint, "so why don't we?"

"Um…"

It was not that he did not expect to dance with Sue Ellen. Of course they were going to have to dance. Eventually. But now? A wrinkle formed between her brows.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"Nothing. Nothing… You really want to go out there? Now?"

"Why? What's wrong with right now?"

"No one else is dancing, Sue Ellen. At all. Won't we, I don't know, stand out?"

"I don't mind," she said, sounding genuinely cavalier about the situation.

"But I…sort of…do. Sorry," he added with a shrug. "Don't get me wrong—I want to dance. But just jumping out there and calling a bunch of attention to myself? I just don't think I— I'd rather wait and join the crowd, if that's all right?"

Sue Ellen did not exactly look thrilled to hear this, but she gave Arthur an accepting nod. "I understand," she said. "Thanks for telling me. We might be waiting a while, though. What should we do until then?"

Arthur cast around for something that would reduce his and Sue Ellen's awkward one-on-one time. Normally, he would have sought out the comfort of his best friend's presence in a time like this. Buster could always be counted on to lighten the mood and help everyone around him relax. But Buster had chosen a better way to spend this afternoon, in front of his console with a pint of ice cream, or several pints, knowing Buster, and sporting pajama bottoms. Thinking about how much he was looking forward to the movies after this, Arthur's eyes fell on Binky, who was standing close to the grove, talking to Maria and Jenna.

"There's Binky," he said. "Let's go talk to him…."

"Binky?" Sue Ellen said, sounding surprised as she followed Arthur.

As Arthur and Sue Ellen drew nearer, he was able to catch the end of their conversation, with Jenna saying, "…really need to forget about it and have fun."

"Hey, guys," Arthur said as he and Sue Ellen stopped in front of the trio. "How's it going?"

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" Binky said, sounding offended. "'Cause I'm in the mood to clock somebody right now, Arthur. And if you're here to rub it in, then you might end up being that somebody."

Arthur took a step back, absorbing his friend's threat. Binky had not looked all that happy from afar, but now that he and Sue Ellen were here, it was clear just how visibly distressed he was. Mouth pulled down into a frown, Binky's eyes shifted nervously as he observed the crowd. Apparently, he could not decide what to do with his arms, for he alternated between crossing them for a few seconds and planting them firmly at his waist in an impatient stance moments later.

"Oh, great," Jenna said, rolling her eyes. "Now he's going to start all over again. Thanks, Arthur."

"Why is everyone dogpiling me?" said Arthur. "I just came over to talk to you guys. Sue Ellen and I were just talking about how great everything looks, right, Sue Ellen?"

Binky growled at this.

"Three…two…one," Jenna said, while Maria looked as if she were bracing for impact.

"This whole thing is shaping up to be one huge dumpster fire," Binky said loudly enough to catch the attention of Steve, who hurried by them to clear their area. He passed behind Maria to get out of sight, and Arthur caught a curious expression on the girl's face. She looked at Binky as if there were something she desperately wanted to say to him, perhaps to try and calm him down. Whatever it was, she refrained from saying it. Instead, Sue Ellen spoke up.

"Why would you think that?" she said to him. "We all worked really hard on the ball, Binky. We gave it everything we had."

"And we wasted our time," Binky said. "Some dance! No one's even dancing! What's the point in working hard if no one's going to have fun here?"

In a groaning, exasperated voice, Jenna countered with, "That's why I'm trying to tell you…"

Arthur did not listen as she argued with Binky. He turned to Sue Ellen and whispered, "Okay, so coming over here was a mistake."

"Big mistake," Sue Ellen agreed. "Let's get out of here before they notice we're gone. Refreshments?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Jenna and Binky continued their argument as Arthur and Sue Ellen slunk away from them and left for the side of the gym where the refreshment table stood. On their way they passed George and Fern, who stood in the middle of the dance floor, sharing a close conversation.

"I should've known Binky would still be tense," Sue Ellen said, as she briefly surveyed the table's offerings before plucking a couple of grapes from a tray. "He's been so nervous, wanting the ball to be successful. Knowing what a perfectionist he is with choreography, I guess it's only natural his nerves wouldn't stop once the ball was finally on. If anything, I think they're worse."

She popped the grapes into her mouth, staring back at the trio as she chewed.

"Let's just hope he doesn't threaten people with a pounding if they don't start having fun," Arthur said. The idea sounded absurd, but in Binky's current state, Arthur would not put it past him.

Sue Ellen nodded, swallowing. "Definitely wouldn't help the situation. But don't worry—he wouldn't threaten people for very long before I'd put a stop to it." For emphasis, she slammed one fist into her open palm as if she were hitting a wall. With a wink, she added, "After a non-violent attempt at negotiation, that is."

Arthur laughed. He did not mind this, talking a joking around with Sue Ellen. If the whole afternoon went like this, well, that would not be so bad. He hoped that it would as he reached for a turkey pinwheel, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Sue Ellen turned away from Binky, Jenna, and Maria and reached for more grapes but froze, her eyes widening. A second later, her head snapped toward the entrance. Arthur turned to look as well, gobsmacked by what he saw. There stood Buster and Muffy, side by side, as if they had arrived together. The only detail that contradicted that idea was their attire. Muffy was dressed like a Disney princess, while Buster was dressed like Buster on a Wednesday. Nevertheless, they both looked cross.

"You…," said Sue Ellen. "You are seeing what I'm seeing, right?"

"Afraid so," Arthur said.

"Arthur? What's going on?"

"What the hell is going on here?"

Muffy's demand was lost to others inside the noisy gym, especially with the DJ booth nearby, but it was loud enough for Buster to hear. She had stopped in her tracks as soon as she had taken one look at the dance floor. Why was no one moving?

"You sound like Francine," Buster said in a tone that was one of flat observation rather than one of playful ribbing.

"Shut up. I mean it—look at this place." She gestured toward her fellow students. "This is a dance floor in name only. Even the chaperones look bored."

"They're chaperones," Buster said dismissively, "being bored is what they do best. And it looks more like they're in pain, if my dad is anything to go by. His eyes always look like that right before he gets a headache. Must be the music…. Welp, time to go to work. Come on, Johnny."

Before Muffy knew what was happening, Buster's hand encircled her wrist, and he was pulling on her arm.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Giving you your money's worth." He tugged on her arm again, and it looked as if he intended to lead her out onto the dance floor.

"Oh, no," she said, yanking her arm away from him. "Are you crazy? There's no way I'm going out there with you right now."

"Then what do you suggest we do, boss?"

"I— I don't know. Give me a second to figure it out."

After several seconds of desperately trying to make up her mind and muster up the courage to be seen with Buster, it would seem the boy had grown impatient. Buster said something in a softer voice that sounded like, "Nuts to this," and then he spoke loud and clear. "I'm hungry. You know where to find me. When you figure it out, let me know and I'll be happy to punch the clock." He then walked away, heading straight for the refreshment table.

Muffy could not believe Buster. She wanted to shriek after him, but she stifled it before she could give herself away, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. "You are on the clock! Buster! Don't walk away from me!"

Wait. Maybe it would be better if he walked away…. What am I saying? I didn't want to come here alone. Ohmigod, I'm so confused right now.

Muffy gave pursuit, jumping when she passed in front of the DJ booth and got an earful of the boisterous message he was yelling out over his speakers, his booming voice crackling as he read off a note card:

"AWRIGHT, AWRIGHT, MILL CREEK, UHHH…MIDDLE SCHOOL, HOW WE DOIN' OUT THERE? COME ON AND MAKE SOME NOISE!"

"AWESOME!" he continued as if the gym had filled with raucous cheers instead of the deadpan and dazed looks of the students and some light applause from the adults in the room. "LISTEN, Y'ALL—I'M NOT HERE FOR A LONG TIME, BUT I AM HERE FOR A GOOD TIME, SO LET'S TEAR UP THAT DANCE FLOOR, YOU HEARD?"

Several seconds of silence was all he got in response.

"AW-RIGHT!"

DJ Phat Stacks was a spindly aardvark who looked to be in his late twenties. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he donned a white tie to match his trousers, and his black beanie matched his lack button-up. His booth was black and white, too, a raised platform with a giant dollar sign positioned behind him, which rapidly phased in and out with alternating neon colors. His name was advertised on the front of his booth in the same flashy pattern:

DJ PHAT $TACKZ

Upon reading the name, Muffy instantly thought of Alan and his disapproval of the names given to the services offered by Haute Vernis. Smexy Deluxxxe particularly stuck out in her mind. The thought would have been amusing if she were not so infuriated with Buster right now. When she caught up to Buster, he was not eating. Not yet. Rather, he was talking to a perplexed Arthur and Sue Ellen, who both cut glances at her as she approached.

"I know what I said," Buster explained to them, "but I changed my mind. Muffy and I are here as friends."

Upon ironing out the details prior to this afternoon, Muffy had warned Buster not to tell anyone about their business arrangement. As Buster finished, however, Arthur and Sue Ellen looked dubious at his explanation.

"Does Ladonna know about this?" said Arthur. He almost sounded like a disapproving father, which seemed to make Buster nervous.

"Um, no. But I'm going to tell her when she gets back. Am I not allowed to hang out with a friend?"

"I guess, but since you're here with another girl, it seems like the sort of thing you should talk to your girlfriend about in advance. Even if she couldn't be here with you, she really wanted to be. What if this upsets her?"

"I'm sorry to say this," Sue Ellen said, "but when she finds out—and she will—it will most likely upset her. The two of you didn't think this through, did you?"

Apparently, Buster could no longer look at Arthur or Sue Ellen, and he instead hung his head in shame. He had not thought it through, but he had given the situation more thought than she, Muffy, had. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, beneficial for both her and Buster. And she certainly had not meant for her plan to cause any harm. She had simply assumed they would both be happy by afternoon's end. But in the pursuit of that happiness, she had once again forgotten herself, once again caused others pain, and once again made others think the worst of her. But would Ladonna think the worst of her? She saw the good in pretty much everyone. What would she say if she saw Muffy's actions as a betrayal of their friendship? What would she think of Buster? He seemed to adore Ladonna. Muffy came to the realization that, in a matter of minutes, she might have inadvertently damaged or possibly even ruined Buster and Ladonna's relationship.

Hey, it takes two to tango. Buster agreed to come with me—he's just as guilty as I am.

But was he, really? Had Muffy not pressured him, enticed him with the promise of a tidy profit for coming along, Buster would have been content with waiting for Ladonna to return to Elwood City. The truth was Muffy had approached him like a devil, red as her karma deficit, and offered him a gift in return for just a tiny piece of his soul. But unlike other deals with the devil, Buster was not the only one set up to lose in the end.

"Muffy, did you even think about that?" Sue Ellen repeated, her eyes boring into Muffy's as if she knew to single her out, knew who was truly to blame.

Why wouldn't she know it's me?

Maybe she had earned Alan's trust these past few weeks, but perhaps he was the only one in her circle of friends who had any real faith in her. Perhaps distrust really was their default setting when they looked at her. And that was completely understandable; it was her reward for cultivating a reputation for herself. Was it any wonder now, why all the boys completely ignored her?

"Well?" Sue Ellen demanded.

"I…." Muffy struggled to find her words. She could not defend herself. "I want to go home."

She turned to flee. Her vision became watery, but she willed herself not to cry, not until she made it back to the limo. She only made it past the DJ booth when Buster's ridiculous tuxedo shirt came into view. He had hurried ahead of her to step in her path.

"You can't leave," he panted, eyes fearful.

"Don't you think it's for the best? You heard what they said."

"I know, but—"

"I really don't feel like staying, Buster. I have to get out of here right now. Maybe if I leave you behind, it'll look less suspicious."

"But if you leave, the date is off, and I'll lose the money, right?"

"Who cares about money? Ladonna is going to be pissed. At both of us."

"And that's exactly why I need the money. If I go home empty-handed, I'll have nothing to show for it when I try to explain things to her. Without a very, very, nice, nice date to make up for being a bonehead, she'll break up with me for sure."

"M-Maybe not," Muffy began.

"Sure, she will! Face it, Muffy—we both know I've got nothing else to offer her…. Ladonna is amazing. She gives me the beets from her salads, she's not afraid to catch mudbugs with her bare hands, and she knows more about comics than any girl I've ever met. But also…she's smart and funny. I don't have to guess what's going on in her head because she tells me everything. Best of all, she's got a bigger heart than a lot of people I know put together. But me? I'm just…me. I don't get why she likes me, but I'm glad she does, and I want it to stay that way. I'd do anything to keep her around, even go out with you."

Buster's words were some of the sweetest Muffy had ever heard come out of the oddball's mouth, but she was unprepared for the sting brought on by that last line.

"Have you ever told her any of that stuff?"

Buster glanced down at his Chucks. "No."

"You should," she said. "Maybe you don't get why she likes you, but I think I do. Everything you did today, the dumb shirt and this corsage…are definitely not my cup of tea, but it was really thoughtful of you to go out of your way to make her happy. She's lucky to have a boyfriend like you, and I bet she knows it. You're lucky, too. She wanted to be here with you. No one wanted to be here with me."

At this, Buster looked up, bemused. "You think no one asked you to come here today because they didn't want to?"

"Well, yeah…. Why else wouldn't they?"

"Come on, Muffy…." he said as if he thought the answer were obvious. "You've got a lot going for you. You've got a limo, money to burn, you're…you've got a ton of neat stuff, and you know how to throw a party. I bet there are at least half a dozen guys out there right now who'd like to go to a dance with a girl like that."

Like that, not like you. Buster's word choice stuck out like a sore thumb. "But?" Muffy said, unsure whether she actually wanted to hear the rest of what he had to say.

"But…they're probably scared to ask. You're sort of known for your high expectations, always going on about how magical and flawless you want everything to be. Take the way you talk about that Brit you've got the hots for—" Buster pitched up his voice without missing a beat and exclaimed, "Oh, Jet Jameson is so gorgeous and perfect—it's like a unicorn had a baby with Jesus!"

Muffy crossed her arms. "His name is Jude Pendleton, and that's not how I sound."

"It's pretty darned close. And accuracy doesn't matter—it's the vibe you put out, and it can strike fear in the hearts of mortal schlubs like these." He threw a thumb over his shoulder toward the crowd. "They know they can't live up to that, so why would they even try? Normal girls can be scary enough."

"They think I'm scary? Unapproachable?"

"Well…mostly the ones who don't know you that well."

"What do you think?"

"What does it matter what I think?"

"We've been friends for years. I want an honest answer."

"Walked right into that one, huh…? I like you," Buster answered quickly. "I think you can be pretty cool."

"What do you mean by 'can be'?"

Buster sighed and said, "When you forget you're Muffy Crosswire. When you let all that—" He paused to illustrate what he meant by striking a haughty-looking pose by placing his hands on his hips, closing his eyes, and pointing his nose toward the ceiling. "You know, when you let all that stuff go, relax and just enjoy yourself, you're pretty cool."

Muffy's eyes fell to her crossed arms. Realizing how they must make her look, she reflexively dropped them to her sides.

"I'm not trying to bring you down," he said gently, "but you did ask…. If it matters, I wouldn't hang out with you if I didn't like you."

If I hadn't wanted to go home before, I definitely do now.

"Come on." Muffy took Buster by the arm and led him toward the gym entrance. She put her head down, and Buster lowered his, leaning in to hear what she was saying. "We're getting out of here. We're going to the Sugar Bowl, and we're going to drown our sorrows with shakes and fries. Then we're going to make things right with Ladonna."

Muffy could not cure her rep disease in one afternoon. She could not control what Arthur or Sue Ellen or any of the boys at MCM thought of her. She could, however, refocus her efforts on repairing some of the damage she had inflicted on her friends this weekend. With any luck, at least, she would be able to.

"How are we going to do that?" said Buster.

"First, you're going to tell her all the things you like about her. Call her, text her. I don't care—just say it. Tell her you can't wait to see her again."

"Then what?"

"Then I'm going to own up to what I did when she gets back, face to face. You can be there if you want, but regardless, I'm taking full responsibility for everything. If we're lucky, she'll be so preoccupied with Gussie's wedding that she won't find out before she comes home. But even if she does, I promise you I'll step in and take the blame. I just hope she understands."

"Ladonna?" Buster said in a voice that sounded dazed. Had he not been paying attention? Muffy was trying to be serious and sincere.

"Yes, Ladonna," said Muffy, annoyed. "I hope she understands."

"No," Buster said, and now he sounded alert, nervous. "Ladonna."

He planted his feet firmly. As Muffy was still clinging to him, she stopped as well. As they did, the flowing skirt of a dress that was deep golden-yellow in color came into view. Muffy's gaze drifted upward, following the length of the dress until she locked eyes with the tall and slender girl who was wearing it. Standing in front of them, as if summoned to the Autumn Ball by the mention of her name, was Ladonna Compson, her face a worrying mixture of hurt and confusion before finally settling on anger, a look that struck Muffy with an immediate pit of dread.

To be continued…