Page 69 of All Your Pucking Secrets

Mom snaps a photograph of me on her phone. I bounce in place, hardly able to contain myself. I’m about to be the subject of more attention than I’ve ever experienced in my life. All eyes will be on me and Tyler. It’s scary, but also thrilling. I’m pleased that everyone will know we’re together. I’ll be proud to say he’s mine.

Fifteen minutes pass, and I frown. I should have heard from Tyler by now. I check my phone, but he hasn’t messaged. I sent him a text, but he doesn’t reply. Another ten minutes later, I call him, worried he might have been delayed or forgotten the address. The call goes straight to voicemail.

“Let’s take some more photos while we wait,” Mom suggests. “Go stand in front of the curtains.”

I pose for a few photos, doing my best to smile, but I’m worried. When it’s closer to nine than eight, Mom sighs.

“Is it possible he’s standing you up?” she asks.

“What?” My heart hammers. Despite the situation, that thought hadn’t occurred to me. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

She shrugs helplessly. “Then maybe there’s been a miscommunication and he thought you were going to meet him there.”

I doubt it. We were quite clear about him coming here and meeting Mom, but perhaps he panicked and went straight to prom because the idea of talking to Mom freaked him out. I can’t forget that I’m the first proper relationship he’s had. Meeting my mother might be too much for him right now.

“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll drive there and see if he’s around.”

She smiles, but anxiety is etched in the lines of her face. “Want me to come?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Can I borrow your car?”

“Of course.” She hands me the keys. “Don’t drink and drive.”

“I would never.”

She kisses my cheek. “I know, sweetheart. You’re a good girl.”

I message Tyler to let him know what I’m doing and then tuck my phone into my purse and slip it into a hidden pocket on the side of my dress.

“I’ll be home before midnight,” I promise.

“Have fun.”

I put on the strappy black shoes I chose to go with the dress and make my way out the front door to where the car is parked on the side of the street. The drive is short, so I soon arrive outside the school gymnasium, where the prom is already underway.

There’s no line to enter—presumably because most people are already here—so I show my ticket to the teacher standing by the door and walk right in. As I enter, a Dua Lipa song is playing. Silver and blue balloons hang from the ceiling, and the walls have been covered.

Rochelle, one of the popular girls, glances up from the mocktail she’s drinking and flashes a predatory grin.

“Are you all by yourself, you little loser?” She bats her eyelashes, and the guy with her laughs as if she’s a comedian.

I roll my eyes. Just wait until she sees who I’m with tonight.

I scan the throng, searching for Tyler. Hopefully he’s received my message and knows to be on the lookout for me.

I spot him almost immediately, standing with a group of guys from the hockey team. The way he’s swaying slightly from one foot to the other makes it obvious he’s had a bit to drink. Does he really need that much liquid courage to get through our big reveal?

Dread unfurls in my gut as my gaze shifts to the girl under his arm. She’s slightly taller than me, but much curvier, and every single one of her curves is on display in a figure-hugging black dress.

Whitney Lewis.

A cheerleader I know he’s hooked up with in the past. Why is his arm around her?

At that instant, he looks up and meets my gaze. For a moment, something flickers through his eyes that might be regret but then he lowers his head and kisses Whitney. She clings to his chest and kisses him back.

A stabbing pain lances through my chest, and I’m suddenly hot all over.

I blink rapidly, my mind struggling to process what I’m seeing, even though, on one level, it’s blatantly obvious.

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