Authors: Emily Evans
Do Over (16 page)
“Whoo hoo.” came a voice from the crowd, “Check it off your list, Pez.”
“Congrats,” called Carla.
I waved in a daze. A happy daze that not even the use of my middle name could burst.
On the platform, Ms. Herrington placed the crown on me. I’d spent thirty minutes this morning polishing the crystals, hoping it would land on Lauren or Carla. It landed on me. The weight pinched and one of the combs dug into my scalp, but I loved it.
More cameras flashed, taking my picture.
“Your king,” Ms. Herrington read, “and the guy who kicked the winning goal in the state playoff game: Nicholas Tresmont.”
Grinning, Trey snagged his crown with one hand and pulled me onto the dance floor for the royal waltz with the other. “We picked a good song,” he said, his voice low and deep as he spoke into my ear.
The lights dimmed and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Yes.” I laid my head against his shoulder and breathed in his favorite cologne and the moment. I tightened my grip never wanting to let go.
The dance floor filled with the other partygoers and remained packed for the next two hours, especially when they played the songs from the dance lessons. Images of the past year played on the Jumbotron throughout—highlights from all the school groups, preparations under the prom tent, class photos, and prom photos from tonight.
The Tron was so cool.
I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but it was.
A cartoon dragon appeared on screen. He blew a gust of fire toward a ribbon that read, “God Speed, Seniors” In a move timed to choreographed perfection, the ribbon on the dove cages yanked open and the snowy doves flew free. Once they’d cleared from sight, a bubble machine kicked on and filled the air with spinning translucent spheres. A twinkle light hissed as a soap bubble hit it.
Pop.
The iridescent bubble puffed out.
Snap.
The twinkle light burst.
Snap, Snap, snap.
A strand of twinkle lights winked out. We lost the whole strand, but there were plenty of others around the tent, so the atmosphere stayed twinkle lit, if somewhat darker.
I leaned on Trey. “It’s almost ten. The fireworks are going to start.”
He took my hand and we slipped outside. The night air was cooler away from the crowds and I hugged Trey’s arm. He led me away from the tents and pulled me flat against him under the cloudless night sky. My stilettos put my mouth much closer to his than normal. I was eager to see how that would change his kiss.
Behind us, I heard the Jumbotron’s cartoon dragon. “Time for fireworks.”
Jumbotron had been directing events all night. Obedient to Tron’s will, the other prom goers began spilling out from under the tent.
Trey’s arm tightened around my waist in protest of the timing. I grinned at him in the darkness, stole a quick kiss, and spun in his arms to lean against him while looking up. A flurry of starbursts lit across the night sky: silver, red, blue, green, then orange.
Boom. Boom.
The audience clapped. With a final boom, the finale began. Sprays of color streaked across the horizon, then with a puff of smoke, the colors disappeared leaving only the stars behind.
Prom was beautiful, romantic, better than perfect.
Creak.
“Hey, look,” John said, pointing toward the large white prom tent. The tent’s center peak sagged. I glanced at Trey’s watch. There was still an hour and a half left. Surely they weren’t taking the tent down early?
Creak.
The white fabric sank lower.
Snap.
The poles on the west end popped and the tent dropped down. The corner draped over the Jumbotron and the screen glowed through the fallen canvas.
Anyone who’d remained under the tent scurried free.
The volume on the speakers surged with a pop song. Some prom goers began dancing under the stars, but most of them stood in groups, staring at the tent. I backed up, grabbing for Trey as my heel caught in the uneven ground.
Snap, snap, snap.
Another strand of twinkle lights popped underneath the canvas.
Whoosh.
A flame lit under the tent, ripping a hole in the fabric.
“Cool special effect,” Ian said.
I shook my head. This wasn’t planned.
Whoosh.
The blaze grew.
Boom.
Jumbotron protested the heat by exploding. Within minutes, the tent and everything underneath turned to ash.
Several partygoers clapped at the spectacle. I covered my mouth and blinked against the burn from the smoke.
“A little over the top,” Ian said, but he shook his head in admiration.
“Tron,” John cried out in anguish, and fell to his knees.
I took my cell phone out of my evening bag and called 911. “We need a fire truck out at Prom Field.”
***
“I had wanted a bonfire,” John said from the cab of his pickup truck. People around him laughed, and the laughter eased the tension, especially as John only half seemed like he was kidding. After he cranked on the radio and rolled down both windows, he slipped out of the cab and held a hand to Lauren.
I watched from nearby with Trey and a suited firefighter.
The firefighter said, “The good thing about a tent is everyone can get free,” the fireman said. “No enclosed spaces. Kudos to the planning committee there.”
I smiled a grim smile and let Trey drag me away. He pulled me into his arms and we danced to songs on the radio in a field backlit by headlights.
My prom.
Epilogue
The hottest guy in school lay to my right, flat out on the living room carpet. The crowd of high school graduates celebrated around us.
At the persistent tugging on my ankle, I allowed myself to be yanked down beside Trey. I rolled up against his maroon Texas A&M T-shirt and threw an arm over his hard abs.
Both of his arms slid around me.
“Hey dude, are you going to help me shop tomorrow?” John asked.
Looking at me, Trey said, “Can’t. I have plans with Paisley.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What shopping?”
“The insurance money came through.” John rubbed his hands together. “Event insurance.” He shot Carla a thumbs up which she returned.
“Prom fire qualified under the hazard policy and they’re going to cut the school a big check,” Carla said. She held up her fist.
Lauren bumped it and blew it up, which I thought was in debatable taste.
John held his hands arms length apart. “With the amount they’re sending, the replacement Tron is going to be huge—way bigger than the last one.”
My chin tilted.
Trey searched my gaze with wary green eyes.
“Sounds wonderful.”
Trey kissed me.
Other books by Emily Evans
Epic Escape
The Accidental Movie Star
The Kissing Deadline
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