My Second kiss

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Mom dropped me off at Drew's house at four o'clock sharp. I felt stupid being so exactly on time. When she answered the door, Drew looked down at the heap of clothes in my hands.

"That'll work." She twisted her lips into a half smile. I could tell she was satisfied with the look of uncertainty on my face. "Come on back; everyone else is already here."

Her house was huge and daunting. The ceiling throughout the entire house was at least thirty feet high with windows that reached to the very top. Drew led me into the main living room which looked like the lounge of a fancy ski resort hotel-and just as she had said, the groupies were already there. I knew all three of them by name, and that was about it. Stella, the tall brunette, was sitting on the floor playing with the stereo. Stephanie, the tiny one with glasses, was sitting cross-legged on an oversized chair playing with her gum, and Carmen, who always appeared to be Drew's most dominant follower, was draped over the couch as though she lived there, flipping through a celebrity magazine.

Drew walked into the room ahead of me and waved her hand back in my direction. "Guys, you all know Gemma." She didn't ask them, she told them. They all acknowledged me as I walked in, and I felt my nerves settle slightly. They didn't seem to be the mean girls in every high school movie that I thought they'd be. They appeared to be just normal people.

Drew looked me up and down. "Are you going to put on your costume?"

I held it up in disgust. "Is this for me to wear?" I had hastily grabbed Mom's old prom dress from the costume box in our basement. It was a million different shades of pink with all sorts of ruffles and sequins designs on it.

Drew put both hands on her hips. "Who did you think was going to wear it?"

I took a deep breath and draped the pink ruffles over my head and shoulders. It barely fit. Mom must have been tiny in high school. By the time I got the zipper up, the rest of the girls were finishing off their outfits.

Stella, Stephanie, and Carmen all looked like identical eighties cheerleaders. Drew had a humongous Tina Turner-style wig on with a cut off T-shirt and frayed shorts. And I was standing awkwardly in my mom's old prom dress. Drew, who was obviously in charge of the whole operation, stood behind a video camera that was set on a tripod.

"Okay," she said louder than she needed to while looking intently at the camcorder buttons, "take one of Die Friihstuck- Verein auf Deutschland." Her German accent was messy, but I could piece together the words she had said from past vocabulary lists. The name of the movie was The Breakfast Club in Germany.

I laughed out loud as soon as I pieced it together.

Drew looked up at me from behind the camera. "What's so funny?" The other girls watched me in silence.

I uncomfortably tucked my hair behind my ears. "What does The Breakfast Club have to do with post-World War Two Germany?"

Drew looked at me with a sincerely confused expression. "World War Two ended in the forties, Gemma."

"Okay?" I waited for the explanation.

"The Breakfast Club was in the eighties, which is after the forties."

I gasped with laughter once again. But no one else was laughing. Before I had a chance to object-before I had a chance to explain to them that we were all going to fail the midterm project if we turned in a homemade German version of The Breakfast Club, Drew gave Stella the cue to start the music, which was a modern version of "99 Luft Balons" by Nena. The music was loud, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do. No one had given me a script. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Drew and the other three girls danced in front of the camcorder.