Page 95 of The Prom Queen Project
My rose-colored gown trailed gracefully behind me, the fitted bodice hugging my waist before cascading into a voluminous, shimmering skirt. The sparkly tulle caught the light from every angle, making the dress glisten as I walked down the hallway. My loose curls bounced just below my shoulders, framing my face as I walked arm-in-arm with Elliot.
I could feel the weight of every gaze, each pair of eyes locking onto us. A creeping sense of fear tightened my chest. The rhythmic clinking of my heels against the tile grew unbearably loud, my own breathing suddenly too noticeable.
Then, Elliot’s hand squeezed mine.
I looked up, meeting the steady reassurance of his deep blue eyes. I felt grounded instantly. He gave me a playful wink before turning his gaze forward again. Biting my lip, I couldn’t help but admire him—his perfectly tailored suit, the jacket sleeves cuffed just enough to reveal a hint of his tattoos. His strides were smooth, his slacks fitting like they had been made just for him. But the best part? His tie—a soft cherry blossom pink that matched my dress.I may have felt like a Princess, but he lookedlike a Prince.I dug inside my bag, pulled out a stack of papers, and handed half to Elliot. Together, we walked through the school, taping them to the walls one by one until none were left.
By the time we reached my locker, forty-five sheets decorated the hallway. Soft snicking pulled me from my unfolding fairytale, and from the corner of my eye, I caught Meredith, Mason, and Ryan huddled in the corner, whispering to each other. I scowled as I yanked on the handle of my locker door.
“You okay?” Elliot asked, resting his shoulder against the wall beside me.
“Yeah.” I frowned. “It just still gets to me, ya know? The stares and the whispers.”
“I thought you were used to it.”
“Not this. It’s different now.”
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“Wha—” I started to ask before the sound of Ryan’s voice cut me off.
“You know, we all know, right?”
I spun around to find the three people I least wanted to see staring back at me, judgment heavy in their eyes. At the front of the group stood Ryan, a smug grin stretching across his face. His gaze flicked from me to Elliot, then back again. Amusement danced in his eyes. Folding my arms over my chest, I raised an eyebrow, meeting his stare all while refusing to avert my gaze like I had done so many times before.
“Know what?” I asked, feigning stupidity.
“That your relationship is fake. You should stop trying so hard. It’s embarrassing.”
Elliot growled as he took a step forward, but before he could speak, I pressed my hand against his chest. I matched Ryan’s expression, staring at him with a sickly-sweet smile playing on my lips.
“My relationship with Elliot is more real than the one I had with you.” I scoffed. “And if you wanna talk about embarrassing, then let’s talk about how I rejected your ass multiple times and you still came crawling like the desperate little boy you are.”
“You think I still want you? Sweetheart, you’re yesterday’s leftovers.”
Elliot cut in with a smirk. “Then, what does that make you? I heard all about you cheating on Clarke. Sounds like you’re the one who’s rotten, dude.”
“Wasn’t talking to you, freak.”
“And yet, I responded anyway.”
Ryan flared his nostrils, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists. Mason reached out, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to pull him back, but Ryan yanked away, shaking off his grip.
Mason latched onto his arm, tugging him back again. “He’s not worth it, man. Neither of them are.”
“Back off,” Ryan snarled, shoving his hand away. He loomed closer to Elliot, locking eyes with him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Always, in Ryan’s shadow.” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Do as I say and not as I do. Isn’t that right, Mason?”
Meredith shot me a sharp look. “You’d know that better than anyone, huh?”
“Maybe that’s why I left.”
“No, that’s why you should come back. Hanging out with these…people…can’t you see what it’s doing to your reputation?” she pleaded. “You wanna win Prom Queen? I can help you. These…costumes…aren’t it.”
“And why would I ever trust you again?”
“You can’t trusthim, Clarke! Why do you think I took that page from your diary? Open your eyes! Everyone knows what a joke he is. He’s the one you shouldn’t trust. Stop fooling yourself—you don’t belong with them.”
