Promposal (10 page)

Fun times, indeed.

I
love your hair,” I told Camilla at lunch. It was sleeked back in a ponytail, not her usual style, but it worked well with the lean lines of her black-clad figure today.

“Thanks.”

Hmm. Normally, she was much more enthusiastic when I complimented her. “Your nails look good too.”

She gave a short nod. “Did them yesterday morning.”

“And that sandwich looks divine.”

She gave a halfhearted shrug as she eyed the turkey sandwich on top of her brown paper bag. “It's okay.”

“All right, what is wrong with you?” All day she'd been off. Slumping around, not talking much, barely even smiling.

“I just . . .” She heaved a sigh and finally turned to look at me. Her eyes showed signs of fatigue, and there were frown lines around her mouth. She dropped her voice and said, “I'll talk to you about it later, okay? It's not something I want to discuss here in front of everyone.”

I rubbed her back. It hurt to see her so down when she was
always such an upbeat person. Something was really eating at her. “Okay. But I'm holding you to that.”

The two of us went back to eating in silence. Dwayne fed Niecey small pieces of cheese in between covering her face with kisses. Given the way Camilla kept her attention resolutely focused on anything but them, I could tell that her problem had to do with love woes. Most likely something about Benjamin or Zach.

Ethan wasn't here today—probably doing some kind of tutoring—so I cleared my throat and looked at David. “How ya doing? Feeling any better?” Luckily, the furor regarding his promposal disaster had died down for the most part. Since a junior couple had been caught having sex in the janitor's closet on Thursday, the drama had shifted elsewhere.

He shrugged and ate a chip. “Can't complain. Grandma's finally out of the hospital and doesn't have to have surgery. And my brother's coming home from Iraq next month too.”

His positivity in the face of such public embarrassment made my heart pinch with shame. Here I was, dwelling on my own misery about Ethan, but he wasn't sitting here all butt-hurt about being dissed. No, he was grateful for his family.

Even Camilla straightened her spine and offered him a thin smile. “I'm so happy to hear that,” she said, her voice ringing with sincerity. “Your brother was a senior when we were freshmen, wasn't he? I seem to remember him. Always a nice guy.”

David nodded, and his face warmed up more. “Yeah, he loved this school. Though, I have to admit, I'm kinda glad he wasn't here to witness me getting shredded for my promposal. Guess I need to work on my magic tricks a bit more.” He gave a dry laugh.

We all chuckled.

“If you can't laugh at yourself . . .” He trailed off and looked over my shoulder. “What is she doing?”

Camilla and I spun around and peered at the cafeteria doorway. There stood Ashley, wearing a kid's princess crown on top of fake blond curls. In one hand was a huge pink wand with a light-up star at the top.

People in the cafeteria started giggling.

Ashley's face was beet red, but she lifted her chin and walked toward our table. Her friends, sitting at their own table—including Karen, who was shooting death rays via her eyes—sat there in silence.

“Hey, David,” she said and waved the wand in the air.

“Uh, hi.” His smile grew wider.

Ashley lifted her other arm, and I noticed the large white poster board. She held it over her head. On the front was written in puffy purple letters,
PROM
? “So. Um. David, I don't know if you got a date to prom, but if not . . .” She swallowed and drew in a shaky breath. “I'd like to go with you. Uh, if you'd go with me, I mean. If we could go together—”

“That would be great.” He stood, and the smile on his face was so wide I could practically see his back teeth. “Yes. I'd love to go to prom with you.”

Everyone in the cafeteria started clapping. Ashley dropped the poster board back down to her side and stood there awkwardly as David made his way to her. The two of them whispered a bit. Camilla and I turned back to face the table and give them a little privacy.

“Okay, that was sweet,” she said, giving her first real Camilla smile of the day. “I'm glad to see someone appreciating David. He's a doll.”

I shot a glance at Karen, who was still staring at Ashley and David. “She's pissed. But I can't figure out why.”

Camilla frowned and glared at Karen until the girl looked away and started whispering to the blonde on her right. “Probably because she's a megabitch and she can't stand for anyone to be happy.”

Ashley and David sat down at our table, and she tossed the wand onto the Formica surface. Her cheeks were still red, but flushed with pleasure. She didn't look back at Karen or her usual table, just stayed in place while David got up and stood in the lunch line.

When Karen saw him leave, she rose from her table and stomped over. “What the hell are you doing?” she barked at Ashley in a loud whisper as she slid into the seat on the girl's left.

“Oh, hello, Karen,” I said to her in a droll tone. “We're all doing well; thanks for asking.”

She rolled her eyes at me, then turned her attention back to her friend. “Yeah. Anyway, why would you ask
him
to prom?” Her eyes flashed to the lunch line. “Brian's been telling everyone he's going to ask you any day now. And you totally just killed that opportunity.”

Ashley sighed and pressed her fingers to her brow. “I don't like Brian—he's not my type. Besides, you're the one always trying to force him on me. He's barely said more than a sentence or two to me all year.”

“Seriously, though. David? Of everyone in this school,
he's
your ‘type'?” She glanced around and seemed to realize she was sitting among David's friends, all of whom were glaring at her. Even Niecey and Dwayne had pried themselves apart enough to snarl in her direction. Karen stopped talking and pursed her lips.

“I think you should go,” Ashley said, quiet but resolute. “This isn't up for discussion. I'm going with David to prom.”

“You've just committed social suicide.” Karen stood and tossed
her head back. Looked down her nose at all of us. “Have fun.” She strolled back to her table.

“Well, that was straight out of an eighties movie,” Camilla said.

Ashley gave a nervous titter. She peeked at the cafeteria line, then back at us. “I'm sorry about that. She can be a real jerk sometimes.” She gnawed on her thumbnail.

“It's not your fault,” I said quietly. “And it's fine. I promise. She's just feeling embarrassed because you showed her up by being such a good person. You made her look even douchier than she already did.”

“Shit.” She frowned. “I didn't mean to do that. I just . . .”

“You just what?” David slid into the seat beside her, holding a tray bearing two slices of cake. He handed her one. “What did I miss?”

She waved her hand and offered David a broad smile. “Oh. It was nothing. This cake looks delicious. Thanks.”

Ashley and David spent the rest of the lunch period in shy conversation. It was so cute I almost couldn't stand it. The furtive glances, the awkward smiles, the flushed faces. How had I missed before that Ashley had a crush on David? I was usually pretty good at spotting these things.

Then again, I'd been
totally
blindsided by Ethan's crush on Noah, so there was that.

The bell rang. We dumped our trash. I gave Camilla a hug and whispered in her ear to text me when she got a chance, then headed out of the caf into the hallway. A hand on my upper arm stopped me in place.

“Hey.” Ethan huffed a few breaths and leaned over, looking winded. “Shit. I missed lunch. Needed to talk.”

I laughed. “Take a moment and catch your breath, dude.”

He chuckled and stood, drew in a few deep lungfuls of air. “Okay. Sorry. I ran all the way here from the other side of the school.”

To find
me
? I wanted to be flattered, but I had a hunch it wasn't really about me. It was about the guy not twenty feet in front of us, going up to his locker to flick the lock. Beautiful, stunning, funny, smart, fill-in-your-own-gushy-adjective Noah.

I gave him a polite smile and tamped down my disappointment. “What's up?”

“When can we start brainstorming for real? I need to get on it. Are you free this week?”

Bingo. I called it. I should go into gambling. Or open a psychic hotline. I grabbed my phone and peeked at the calendar. “I'm free Wednesday after school.”

“Perfect.” Ethan gave a crooked smile, and the sight of that damned dimple made my heart skip a beat. Why did he have to be so . . . everything to me? How was I going to learn how to stop loving this guy? About as easy as asking me to rip my heart out of my chest and still keep on living.

Ethan finally spotted Noah, and I saw minuscule changes in his body language—the way his eyes widened, how he sucked in his breath and clenched his fists at his sides. Did his nervous stomach flutter mirror my own?

“I want to talk to him,” Ethan whispered to me, “but I don't know what to say. I'd like to break the ice before I just outright ask him to prom.” He turned desperate, wide eyes my way. “Help, please.”

My heart gave a sick thud. I kept my smile glued in place so as not to give away my feelings. “You guys have a class together,
right? Why not ask him if you can borrow his notes? Something casual that gives you a chance to see him again and discuss what he wrote.”

“That's brilliant.” He reached up and squeezed my arm. His eyes were rich and warm with affection. “Thank you. Wish me luck!” With that, he strolled over to Noah, who looked at him with a smile when Ethan began talking.

Noah nodded, smiled bigger, and dug into his locker.

I couldn't stand here and watch this. I turned and headed to my next class. One foot in front of the other. Not paying much attention to people shoving and jostling around me. I'd known it would be like this. But that didn't mean I needed to torture myself by watching.

I made a decision—yes, I'd help Ethan. But I wasn't going to watch the promposal; nor was I going to be his in-person romance coach. If I didn't have to see them together, it would be easier to treat this as a scientific project, a study. Something that didn't personally impact me.

I needed to remove my emotions from the equation. And to do that, I had to stop thinking of Noah and Ethan as real people.

But that didn't mean I liked it. In fact, I kind of wanted to punch myself in the face. Frustration simmered just beneath my skin. I needed to shake this off.

I dug my phone out, forced myself to make a wacky face, took a pic, and sent it to Camilla. I'd just fake it until I felt better.

Until the mental image of Ethan and Noah standing together didn't splinter my stupid heart into pieces.

I
rubbed the tight spot on the back of my neck and peered down at my notes. Mrs. Brandwright talked about something, but I didn't pay much attention to what she was saying. I was too busy trying not to remember how Benjamin's mouth had felt on mine, our bodies pressed together. Had it really been just yesterday?

I'd never been kissed like that before. Had never felt so overwhelmed and heady, like my skull was filled with helium. And I'd felt sexy, too. The way his eyes had flashed the moment before he'd taken my mouth . . . I smothered a groan and doodled on the corner of my notebook to distract myself.

To make matters even more awkward, Benjamin had barely said a word to me when he came into class. Had just dropped into his seat, gave me a courtesy nod, then opened a book in his lap and read.

Did he regret what had happened? Sure seemed that way, given his actions. Which only made me even more stressed about the whole thing.

Oh, well. I was totally done angsting over this. It was one kiss,
that was all. Something impulsive and shocking and unlikely to ever happen again, so I needed to stop obsessing.

Mrs. Brandwright told us to get back into our groups and work on going over our notes so we could complete the group reporting session of our project. Carter hadn't shown up to school today—I was not going to take the fall for his absence, so I would just note somewhere that he hadn't bothered to participate in the group research portion.

Benjamin spun his desk around to face me. Finally looked me in the eyes. I couldn't read the nuances of emotion in them, but I could tell he was feeling just as uncomfortable as I was.

I pushed down a swell of anxiety and put on my game face. Gave a big smile and said, “Ready to relive the fun of scaring innocent people?”

He chuckled, and the tension between us cracked away just a bit. “It was pretty epic.”

We spent a few minutes reviewing our notes in silence. The other groups around us hummed with light conversation. I heard Benjamin bark a laugh and looked up.

“Just saw my notes on when you tried to hold that old man's hand and then he wouldn't let yours go after you tried to walk away.”

“Yeah, I wasn't sure I was ever going to get my hand back.” That poor old guy had clung to me like I was a long-lost child or something. In a way, it made me sad that he was so starved for affection, he'd take it from a stranger. I made a mental note to try smiling more at old people.

Benjamin's eyes twinkled. “Have to admit, it was a lot of fun watching you relax and get into the project. You seemed pretty
nervous at first. Did you find it challenging to get past your fear?”

“Are you kidding?” I laughed. “I was brought up to be polite to strangers, to stay quiet and not disrupt others. Forcing myself into their presence in such strong ways was super hard.”