Page 50 of Finding Delaware

“We dropping your bike off at your dad’s shop?” Christian asks as he hops into the driver’s seat, Xed and Matthew taking up the back, and my world just…

Stops. Slams to a halt so hard that I feel myself reeling from it.

“No. Take it to the dump,” I spit through clenched teeth.

Because I’d rather spend the rest of my life never setting foot on a dirt bike track again than be in my father’s presence.

Apparently, I’m done with motocross, too. And it feels like the line on a heart monitor just went flat.

Huckslee

May

Ihonestly never thought I’d be going to senior prom.

Actually, I’ve never been to a school dance in my life. Why would I? It’s not like I was ever interested in asking a girl to be my date, and it’s not like I could show up with a guy. Well, I mean, I’m here with Logan. But that’s different.

The high school auditorium is packed to the brim, bright swatches of varying colors from dresses and ties making my head spin. Strobe lights flash in time to the second-rate DJ in the corner as he plays some shitty remix. Streamers billow from the rafters, a banner with the quote ‘the best way to predict the future is to create it together’ from Joe Echevarria hangs above the doors. This year’s prom theme is unity. What a crock of shit.

“I was going to get us a drink, but uh...” Logan rubs the back of his neck. “Someone apparentlyspiked the punch.”

Three guesses who.

My eyes immediately find Taylor for the thousandth time, where he stands against the stage. He’s wearing the tuxedo my dad bought him for the wedding, only the red tie has been replaced with a black and white checkered one that matches Salem’s shoes. She’s wearing a short white dress that makes her red hair stand out like liquid fire, and a black rose corsage on her wrist matches his boutonniere. He doesn’t even go to school anymore, but Salem does, so he’s her date. They look gorgeous together, like a celebrity couple, and I hate how it makes my stomach ache.

“Beautiful, huh,” Logan mumbles beside me, and I turn in surprise to find his gaze on them. On Salem.

Well. That’s new.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Beautiful.”

But I’m not talking about Salem.

Taylor’s been avoiding me all week since the race. I’ve tried everything I can think of to get him to talk to me, to tell him what I did for him, but all my attempts are shot down. I even showed up at Christian’s house, where he’s been staying, when I found out he had changed his damn number, but according to his best friend, he wasn’t home. And no, he didn’t know where to find him. And, yes, he’ll tell him to text me or call me.

But Taylor never did. And he hasn’t even glanced my way all evening, which hurts more than it should.

I feel antsy. Skittish. It’s a side effect from a different medication since the last one made me feel like fucking Eyore from Winnie the Pooh, and I can tell it’s another one I’m not going to like. I hate them all, honestly, but what can you do?Sleep is a human necessity, and without it, I’ll die. So until I can finally get some shut-eye, the Russian roulette of anxiety pills continues. I just wish they didn’t make me feel like pitching myself headfirst off a bridge. I’m barely holding on.

You’re a fucking fake.

Taylor’s words from a month ago echo in my ears, making me flinch. He’s not wrong. And this pretense is killing me.

My phone alerts me to a new text, and my stomach flips, followed by disappointment when I see it isn’t Taylor. Which makes me feel like a douchebag because it’s my boyfriend.

Royce: Just pulled up to the parking lot. Meet me outside? :)

Right. The reason I’m here. Even though Royce knows I’m not ready to come out, he still wants to go to prom together. My school dance is this week, and I’ll be going with him to his own prom next week. And I feel guilty as hell because I haven’t been as attentive to him as I should have been. He should be with someone who’s not ashamed to be with him, so I plan on breaking it off before I start school in the fall. Because he deserves better than me. I can’t give him what he needs, but I will for tonight. To give him something happy to hold onto when I break his heart.

“Hey, my friend Royce is here,” I tell Logan, who’s still watching Salem slow dance with Taylor. “I’m going to go meet him.”

He nods without breaking his gaze, and I frown at him before turning away, making a mental note to ask him about his behavior later. When I’m halfway out of the building, myphone goes off again, and I get a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Tell your best friend to stop eye fucking my girl.

My hands start to shake as my chest constricts. It’s Taylor, I know it. I can feel it. And I’m pissed off as hell at him for ignoring me.

Me: Who's this?

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