Page 63 of The Prom Queen Project
“Yeah. It’s no big deal.”
“You fucking drew me, Elliot. That’s the definition of a big deal.”
“Eh.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Some guy walking on water is a big deal. This? Not so much.”
“Stop being modest. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah, it really doesn’t.”
“Andhe’s back.” I flicked my eyes toward the ceiling. “Thank you, though. Like seriously, thank you.”
Taking the artwork from him, I tucked it into the fold of my journal before putting it back inside my bag.
“You carry that journal with you everywhere, huh?”
“It’s my lifeline, so, duh.”
He laughed as he started to walk away. “Alright, let’s get this whole‘I bleed black and yellow’shitshow of a pep rally out of the way before I puke.”
The two of us walked into the gymnasium only to be met with a barrage of boisterous students whooping and hollering from the sidelines as the teachers competed in some kind of horrific rendition of musical chairs that instead involved scurrying to find one of the remaining hula hoops after the music stopped.
I felt tight pressure forming inside my skull as we took our place in the bleachers.
Elliot and I watched as the events of the pep rally kicked into high gear. Unsurprisingly, the PE teacher, Mr. Xenedee, won the musical hula hoop competition.
Next up were the student events. A small group of kids from each grade were selected to represent their graduating class in a three-legged relay race.
Despite Elliot’s earlier protests, he seemed to be enjoying the sight of random people tripping over their own feet while shouting obscenities at each other. His face held a smirk as he stared ahead with a raised eyebrow. The seniors came out on top, just as they do every year. How the faculty managed to rig that one was beyond me. Usually, it was something more subtly manipulated, like‘Which class can cheer the loudest?’and claiming it was the seniors, even though nine out of every ten seniors had already inevitably gone home. Perks of having a driver’s license and fewer classes.
And downs of being a cheerleader forced to perform at these things.
“Let’s hear it for the football team!” Principal Hawkins blared over the microphone.
A barrage of boys wearing padded uniforms and oversized helmets burst through the double doors as they paraded into the gym.
A thunderous round of applause erupted from the bleachers.
Ryan was leading the pack as he barreled headfirst into the oversized banner held by two students. The basketball team was next, followed by the baseball team and the track team. The applause was quieter when the girls’ teams were introduced, but that’s when I yelled the loudest. When the Honey Bee mascot stood in the center of the gymnasium, my hand slipped out of Elliot’s.
“That’s my cue to get ready. I’ll see you after?”
“Yeah. You got this, Princess.”
I smiled as I shimmied through the long row of people blocking my path and hopped off the side of the bleachers, dashing into the girls’ locker room. As soon as I opened the door, I was greeted with pure mayhem as several girls rushed around frantically, flinging their clothes and spraying more perfume than my senses could handle. I let out a string of sneezes as I crinkled my nose. My nostrils were on fire. I mean, the scent was better than putrid sweat, but—damn—perfume is fucking strong and all those incohesive fragrances mixed together were more disorienting than riding on one of those stupid spinning teacup rides at the fair. The minute my eyes spotted Meredith and Kendra, my heart became palpable in my throat.
I walked toward them, tossing my bag on the floor, not bothering to find a locker. “You guys, ready for this?”
Kendra shrugged, her eyelids heavy as she leaned against the wall. “Sure.”
“Born ready.” Meredith nodded.
“This is my favorite cheer event of the whole year!” Luna, a bubbly sophomore on the squad, beamed.
Meredith scoffed at her, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nobody asked.”
“Sorry.” Luna frowned, her figure dissolving into the background as she hid behind some of the other girls.
“Would it kill you to be nice for once, Meredith?” The words escaped my mouth in an exasperated tone before I had the chance to process them.
