Sixteen the Hard Way -21.2- Showtime!

Donna appeared at my door while I was trying to decide if I had anything more comfortable than I was already wearing. She looked at me as if waiting for permission to come in.

“What?” I asked.

“Umm,” she said, hesitating. “We’re going to Springdale Motor-Vu, right? That’s right here, you know?”

I began to get an inkling of what she might mean, so I frowned at her.

She came right out and said it. “You want to go as Joni, so if we meet anyone we know, they won’t recognize you.”

I glanced down at my chest and put a hand to my hair. “It’s not really a disguise, but I don’t think anyone is going to recognize me as Johnny.” What was she thinking?

“You’re still wearing the same face,” she said, direct as always. “I think you should let me put a little makeup on you.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Let me rephrase that. Hell, no.”

“Joni!” Mom’s voice came from the hallway. I hadn’t known she was there. “What are you thinking, Donna?”

“Well,” said my sneaky sister, “girls our age almost never go out in public without a bit of makeup. Not around here, anyway.”

“I’m from Iowa.” I put in quickly.

They both looked at me.

“I’m just a visiting relative and fifteen-year-old girls do not wear makeup in Iowa,” I said.

That made Mom laugh. “How would you know? You’ve never been to Iowa.”

“I bet no one we’re likely to meet has either,” I pointed out.

“Let’s go to the concessions before it gets completely dark,” Donna suggested after Dad had parked the Momwagon at the drive-in.

“Maybe I don’t want to go to concessions until it’s dark,” I objected.

Donna made a face. “No one is going to recognize you, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she offered. “I’ll say you’re my cousin from Orange County if we meet anyone we know.”

While we were discussing this, Linda did an end run around us. “Daddy,” she asked our father in her sweetest voice, “can I have some money for kongcinamanations?” Dad, of course, forked over some cash.

“I can’t go just by myself,” Donna countered my objections to going at all. “I’ll need help carrying stuff back.”

“Okay, okay,” I gave in.

“Let’s go!” shouted Linda, squirming across Mom’s lap to exit her privileged position in the front seat.

“What makes you think you’re going, Squidgy?” Donna asked her.

Linda played her trump card. “‘Cause I gots the money!”

#

We followed our conniving little sister toward the orange building in the middle of the big parking area, laughing a little at being outplayed by a kindergartener. It wasn’t that unusual, to be honest; Linda had learned how to manipulate grownups before she stopped talking around her fooler.

Half of the building served as concession stand while the other half held projection equipment and supplies. You would get yelled at if you walked through the beams pointed at the screen on that side, but there were already lines at the windows on the other side. It was partly enclosed to keep the weather off if it sprinkled. They’d close the theater if it rained hard.

Three lines snaked out from under the awning. One line was for orders like hot dogs, hamburgers and pizza. The other two were just for candy, popcorn and drinks, which was all we wanted, so Donna and I each staked out a spot in one of the faster-moving lines. This confused Linda.

“We only gots one money,” she pointed out.

“Is this your little sister?” someone in the slow lane asked Donna. “She’s too cute!”

I looked in that direction, then turned away. Annalisa Fremont, a cheerleader-type from our school, had asked the question. She was in line with Rod Pick, and I didn’t want him to see me.

From the corner of my eye, I could see him past Donna and Linda in the middle lane. Annalisa must be his date. I didn’t think I’d ever liked her.

But Rod was looking right at me. I tried not to meet his gaze, but he seemed distracted anyway. It took a moment for me to realize I was standing in profile to him, and he was looking at my chest.

So, he probably isn’t going to recognize me, I decided, and that ought to have made me feel better, but it didn’t. Something seemed stuck in my throat, and I wasn’t hungry for popcorn or red vines anymore.

“Who’s the redhead?” I heard him ask Donna. “Is she with you? You’re dressed like.”

But it was Linda who answered. “That’s our other sister, Joni!” she squealed, and for icing on the cake, she pointed at me.