Whump!

Deb Webster launched her bony carcass into the air and flopped down onto her bed. She sighed a long, happy sigh. Today had been the most popular day of her whole life. After all, she had dined with Jennifer Chicken and the Dudettes, right out in the open for all of third period lunch to see. Even the hot and steamy Timmy Bones had seen it – they had sauntered right past him on their way out of the cafeteria! Deb wasn’t sure, but she thought she had seen him tip his tiny top hat ever so slightly in her direction! The very idea made her so happy she could have died.

Oh please, please let him ask me to the Holiday Hop, said a voice inside her head. Deb closed her eyes and pictured herself cruising around the dance floor with Timmy Bones. In the fantasy, she wore a poufy, drop-waisted dress with white, lace stockings and a bejeweled crown. He wore a gold tuxedo with tails and a tiny top hat to match. Oh, what’s the use? Deb thought. It’s just a fantasy and that’s final!

Just then the phone rang, bringing her back to reality.

“Doreen speaking,” she said into the phone.

“Hi, Deb,” said the voice on the other end. “It’s Blue Robin, your best friend. Remember me?”

Deb had been so excited about being popular that she had completely forgotten about Blue Robin. Blue Robin’s name was actually just plain Robin, but she thought the addition of Blue before Robin made her sound more sexual and sensual (and Deb agreed).

“Sure, I remember you. Don’t be silly.”

“Where on earth have you been?” Blue Robin wanted to know. “I looked for you in study hall. What gives?”

“I cut study hall to hang out in the girls’ bathroom with Jennifer Chicken and the Dudettes,” Deb purred, twirling a lock of burgundy hair around her finger.

“You what?” Blue Robin squeaked.

“You heard me,” Deb insisted, “I became popular today. There’s a whole new Doreen Webster in town.”

“Aye caramba,” sighed Blue Robin. “This is soooo ironic!”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Deb mused, letting the phone slip from her hand back into the receiver. She had no time for Blue Robin right now. She had to get some money from her parents so that she could go to the Swedshon Mall with the Dudettes the next day after school, if they invited her. She jumped to her feet and scampered down to the kitchen to find her mother.

“Mom, money. Now,” She said matter-of-factly, her palm outstretched.

“Shove it, Deb,” her mother quacked, sprinkling some parsley into a bowl. “The stuff doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”

“Mother, don’t be such a prude,” Deb grumbled. “I spent all day with Jennifer Chicken and now I need money. Fork it over.”

“It’s not going to happen,” cooed Mrs. Webster with a twinkle in her kind, hazel eyes.

“Anyway, who is this mysterious J. Chicken that you keep ranting and raving about?”

“Only the most popular girl in school, Mother!” Deb roared. “What Jennifer says, goes. If she invites me to the mall tomorrow after school and I don’t have any dough, I’m finished in this town.”

“Tell it to the judge, Deb,” Mrs. Webster chuckled, shoving a large tuna and noodle casserole into the oven. “If you want money, you’re going to have to earn it. You can start by raking the leaves up off the lawn before dinner. The rake’s in the garage.”

“Get real,” Deb hissed, popping a handful of raisins into her mouth. “You live in a fantasy world.” Why did her mother always have to be so unrealistic?
“You get real, Deb,” Mrs. Webster retorted. “You have to earn your keep in this household if you want your allowance.”

“Alright, fuck it. Where’s Dad?”

“Your father is at work, earning a living.”

“Well, that’s JUST GREAT,” Deb fumed, helping herself to more raisins. “You and Dad think you’re so cool, and I’m so sick of it!”

She turned on her heel and stormed back up to her room. There was nothing left to do now but pick out tomorrow’s outfit and hope for the best. If she was going to be penniless, she might as well look good doing it. Deb thought about what sort of a fashion statement she wanted to make the next day at school. It had to be something ultra-sensual, something totally radical, something that would turn Timmy Bones into a steaming bowl of Jello. But what?

Rrrr-ing! The sound of the telephone tore through her daydream and brought her back into the galaxy.

“Doreen speaking,” she answered.

“Hey, Big D,” came a husky voice on the other end, “It’s me: the hot and steamy Timmy Bones.”

“OH MY LORD, IT’S THE BONES,” Deb screamed to nobody in particular. “Timmy Bones, what on earth are you doing here?! Have you come to ask me to the Holiday Hop?!”

“I’m not there, Deb. I’m here, at my house. I’m calling you on the phone, space cadet. What are you, high on drugs in outer space?”

“Stuff it, you rascal,” Deb chirped, winding the telephone cord around her finger and plunking down backwards in her desk chair. “Just get real: is this about the Holiday Hop? Yes or no.”

“No, Big D. This is not about the Holiday Hop. This is about the five smackeroos you still owe me for starting that little rumor about your secret identity as an under-cover fashion model! Pay up, or you can kiss Jennifer Chicken goodbye.”

Alligator crap, Deb thought to herself. She had completely forgotten about that. The Bones was in on her secret because he was the one she had paid – er, promised to pay – a week’s allowance in exchange for telling everyone that she was a sensational fashion model. But her mother wouldn’t give her an allowance unless she raked the leaves up off the lawn. Now Timmy Bones would never ask her to the Holiday Hop! She was so embarrassed that she thought she might die.

“Listen up, Bones: I can have it to you by the end of next week. Final offer, take it or leave it,” Deb barked, flashing him her most dazzling smile.

“Okay, now I know you’re on drugs,” The Bones snorted. “Lemme explain something to you, Big D: you DO NOT have the upper hand in this situation. I DO. It’s five dollars pronto or bye-bye popularity. Read ‘em and weep.”

Click.

Like a puff of smoke, The Bones was gone.

previously: Deb Webster & the Curse of the Haunted Textbook, Chapter 1 “Popular at Last!”