Spotting the dessert table at the far end, she quickly navigated her way through the various stragglers congregated around the food: the hopelessly lost, the still undecided, and the clueless. It was the last group that usually provides the most trouble.
There were f ive of them. They were grouped together in front of the desserts, carrying on a full conversation and effectively blocking access to the table directly behind them. They were a formidable group, seemingly unable to sense that they were in the way, despite the fact there was one woman attempting to contort her body around one member of the group, in a vain attempt to reach a piece of pie. These unfortunate people seemed oblivious to the fact they could just as easily talk to one another three feet away from the table. Well, Grace was here to help.
“Excuse me! Do you mind?” she asked as sweetly as she was capable of at the moment. They appeared confused by her request. One of the more self-aware of the group glanced behind his shoulder, obviously just noticing the table of dessert a couple of inches behind him. Realizing what she wanted, he helpfully turned to the side, giving her three inches of space in which to reach a part of the table.
Luckily , reinforcement came in the form of another, larger group who also felt the need to feed their sweet tooth.
Outnumbered , the clueless moved to another part of the gym where they were sure to converse without interruption: the drink station. Grace was confident she would see them again later in the night, more than likely in front of the door leading to the parking lot.
Once the table was clear of stragglers, Grace looked in satisfaction at the spread laid out before her. Melodie certainly out did herself on the dessert cart. There were yellow and red iced cupcakes, cherry-covered cheesecake, chocolate torte, brownies, and her favorite, chocolate-covered strawberries. Grace filled up her plate and walked back to her table.
The band was playing and most everyone was in the center of the gym, line dancing. Everyone, except for Hope, who sat at the table, alone, her eyes fixated on Crystal and Tom who were standing close together near the stage.
Grace placed her plate on the table and sat down. “Hope, let's go home.”
Hope tore her eyes away from Tom and Crystal. “No.”
“ I really don’t think you’re going to win tonight. It will be close, but not close enough.”
Hope merely smiled. “Just watch, sister dear. I told you, I have no intention of losing to that backstabbing, bleach-blonde, bimbo. Why would anyone vote for her over me?”
“She’s become rather popular since school, Hope. I’ve heard that she’s involved in several charities. She helps out at the hospital. Here at the school. She organized—”
“You know why she does all of that , don’t you? It’s not out of the goodness of her heart. She’s wants to be a Senator’s wife someday. She’s doing all of that for attention. For the connections. Not because she cares,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know that.”
Hope looked down at her sister's plate. “What are you eating?” Hope picked up Grace's plate to examine it and dropped it back on the table in disgust. “Do you have any idea how many calories are on that plate?”
“Yes I do , and I don't care,” Grace said, moving her plate out of harm's way. “I'm not having a very good time, and admit it, you aren't either.”
“Not yet , but I will be very soon. Look at them, standing there,” Hope jerked her head toward Tom and Crystal. “They've been standing there arguing for quite some time.”
Grace looked over at the couple. Crystal had her hand on Tom's arm, smiling as her husband whispered into her ear. She looked happy and serene. “They don’t look like they're arguing.”
Hope 's voice was sharp. “They are. Tom's playing with his championship ring. He always does that when he's angry.” Picking up her silk wrap and purse, Hope stood
There were f ive of them. They were grouped together in front of the desserts, carrying on a full conversation and effectively blocking access to the table directly behind them. They were a formidable group, seemingly unable to sense that they were in the way, despite the fact there was one woman attempting to contort her body around one member of the group, in a vain attempt to reach a piece of pie. These unfortunate people seemed oblivious to the fact they could just as easily talk to one another three feet away from the table. Well, Grace was here to help.
“Excuse me! Do you mind?” she asked as sweetly as she was capable of at the moment. They appeared confused by her request. One of the more self-aware of the group glanced behind his shoulder, obviously just noticing the table of dessert a couple of inches behind him. Realizing what she wanted, he helpfully turned to the side, giving her three inches of space in which to reach a part of the table.
Luckily , reinforcement came in the form of another, larger group who also felt the need to feed their sweet tooth.
Outnumbered , the clueless moved to another part of the gym where they were sure to converse without interruption: the drink station. Grace was confident she would see them again later in the night, more than likely in front of the door leading to the parking lot.
Once the table was clear of stragglers, Grace looked in satisfaction at the spread laid out before her. Melodie certainly out did herself on the dessert cart. There were yellow and red iced cupcakes, cherry-covered cheesecake, chocolate torte, brownies, and her favorite, chocolate-covered strawberries. Grace filled up her plate and walked back to her table.
The band was playing and most everyone was in the center of the gym, line dancing. Everyone, except for Hope, who sat at the table, alone, her eyes fixated on Crystal and Tom who were standing close together near the stage.
Grace placed her plate on the table and sat down. “Hope, let's go home.”
Hope tore her eyes away from Tom and Crystal. “No.”
“ I really don’t think you’re going to win tonight. It will be close, but not close enough.”
Hope merely smiled. “Just watch, sister dear. I told you, I have no intention of losing to that backstabbing, bleach-blonde, bimbo. Why would anyone vote for her over me?”
“She’s become rather popular since school, Hope. I’ve heard that she’s involved in several charities. She helps out at the hospital. Here at the school. She organized—”
“You know why she does all of that , don’t you? It’s not out of the goodness of her heart. She’s wants to be a Senator’s wife someday. She’s doing all of that for attention. For the connections. Not because she cares,” she said matter-of-factly.
“You don’t know that.”
Hope looked down at her sister's plate. “What are you eating?” Hope picked up Grace's plate to examine it and dropped it back on the table in disgust. “Do you have any idea how many calories are on that plate?”
“Yes I do , and I don't care,” Grace said, moving her plate out of harm's way. “I'm not having a very good time, and admit it, you aren't either.”
“Not yet , but I will be very soon. Look at them, standing there,” Hope jerked her head toward Tom and Crystal. “They've been standing there arguing for quite some time.”
Grace looked over at the couple. Crystal had her hand on Tom's arm, smiling as her husband whispered into her ear. She looked happy and serene. “They don’t look like they're arguing.”
Hope 's voice was sharp. “They are. Tom's playing with his championship ring. He always does that when he's angry.” Picking up her silk wrap and purse, Hope stood
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