Page 21 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
The mosh pit breaks out into cheers, intensifying for half a second before Anna aggressively flicks the overhead lights on and off in warning. “Back to your seats and hands to yourselves, sheep. Before you get our prom canceled,” she says into the mic, her words blaring through the gym’s overhead speaker.
Whoever was in control of the music shuts it down to a wave of groans, but the sea of bodies listens to their disembodied overlord and trudges up to the bleachers. With everyone safely in their assigned places again, the real show can begin.
It’s impossible to ignore the lump lodged in my throat throughout the cheer team’s routine. The caffeine boost that got me through the crowd makes my heart pound so loud I’m worried Anna can hear it. My stomach lurches when the baseball team comes rushing into the auditorium to deafening applause.
I spot Joaquin, clad in his letterman jacket and cheeks painted red and gold. His goofy grin stands out in the crowd, bright enough to spot even from the tech booth. My fingernails dig into my palms as I watch him scan the room, immediatelyfinding Tessa seated with the rest of the cheerleaders a few feet away. He waves at her, and when she waves back and gives him a wink, his cheeks flush and his teammates clap him on the shoulder in excitement.
“Settle down,” Principal Contreras says as he steps up to the mic onstage in a dry, flat monotone. Instant vibe killer. “Thank you to the cheer squad for that wonderful performance.” He’s greeted with a polite smattering of applause, grimacing when someone takes the opportunity to shout, “Tessa, I love you” over the quiet cheers.
Contreras’s tone is as dry as sandpaper, yet I cling to the edge of my seat as he goes through his pep rally spiel, congratulating the seniors on making it to the end of the year, telling the freshmen to aspire to great heights, and, finally, announcing this year’s theme for senior prom—Under the Sea (how original) as well as the nominees for prom court.
“Your nominees for prom queen are…Amal Khan, Yesenia Gordon, Tessa Hernandez, and—” The final nominee’s name is completely lost under the roar of applause for Tessa. Poor girl never stood a chance.
“And your nominees for prom king,” Contreras continues once the excitement has died down to an anticipatory hush. “Hank Azario, DeShawn Harris, Joaquin Romero, and Danny Garcia.”
I’m so caught up in my nerves that I don’t remember to clap for Joaquin’s nomination until Anna shoves my shoulder. Not that his nomination comes as a surprise. He’s not a lock for the crown like Tessa, but there’s no way Cordero’s athletic goldenboy wasn’t going to nab a nomination. He’s in good company with his teammate and (second) closest friend DeShawn, who’s also president of the student council. Hank isn’t much of a surprise either. The guy’s a dick, but when clichés reign supreme, the quarterback always gets a nom. Obviously, I’m not thrilled about Danny either. But there’s no way the resident class clown wins over the golden boy or the StuCo president. Or at least, I hope not.
By the time Contreras unveils the glimmering silver senior MVP trophy, I’m practically vibrating, resisting the urge to chew on my nails as he finally gets to the moment I’ve been waitingfor.
“We’re very pleased to present this year’s MVP Award to a talented senior who’s demonstrated his incredible athletic ability since he first joined Cordero’s baseball team his freshmanyear.”
A low hum breaks out among the crowd, the enthusiasm making its way to the tech booth. The boys on either side of Joaquin pat him on the back, jostling him by the shoulders as Contreras gestures for him to come onstage.
The music from earlier is no match for the volume of the cheers as Joaquin heads for the stage. A chant of his name starts up, breaking it into two syllables, with a stomp on the bleachers for “Quin.” The chant picks up speed, rumbling the room so intensely it topples over Anna’s last (thankfully, closed) can of Raspberry Unicorn.
By the time he gets up to the mic, Joaquin has to wait a full thirty seconds before he can speak, the applause and cheersdrowning out his sheepish “Thank you so much.” I join in on the cheers even though the tech room is insulated, clapping until my palms go numb. I don’t even realize I’m standing up until the applause starts to die down and reality sinks in. As I slump back into my seat with pinkened cheeks, Anna keeps her eyes straight ahead and that anxious feeling comes crawling back.
“Thank you so much to my abuela for everything she’s done for me this past year, and for giving me my first bat once I was old enough to hold it on my own. Obviously she’s not here right now, but I know she’d be pissed if I didn’t thank her anyway.” A pause forawws and quiet laughter. I kick myself for not thinking to record this for her.
“Thank you to my teammates, for always pushing me and covering for me that time I bailed on practice to go buy Jordans from some sketchy dude on Craigslist. Sorry, Coach.” His teammates break out into their own set of laughter and applause, DeShawn standing up on his chair and starting a cheer so rowdy Contreras has to hiss at him to sit back down.
Joaquin doesn’t continue, though, when his baseball bros have finally calmed down. He has everyone clinging to his every word, me included, as he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes suddenly shifting to his shoes. It’s odd, watching someone with all the confidence in the world shrink under a spotlight.
His eyes scan the crowd again. Assuming he’s searching for Tessa, I brace myself for the signal we agreed on. As soon as he says the code word, I’ll dim the lights and crank up Frankie Valli, but his gaze goes right past Tessa. Instead, he finds me. A hundred feet and soundproof glass can’t stop the chill that runsthrough me when he flashes his ultra-white smile, light brown eyes locked with mine.
“And Ivelisse Santos. I wouldn’t remember to get up in the morning if it wasn’t for you. You’re the best person I know, and the world would be a much brighter place if there were more people like you in it. Thank you for being my best friend.”
All the air has been sucked out of the room. No one says a word, not even another round of polite clapping, and maybe that would bother me if I didn’t suddenly feel like my entire body is made of jelly. My lungs can’t keep up with my heart, and I might be crying, who the hell knows. I just sense Joaquin’s eyes on me, and this indescribable warmth that feels like coming home.
The silence doesn’t faze Joaquin, and the spell he has on me breaks the second he turns back to the crowd. “Well, I won’t hold you guys up anymore, but it’s prom season and I…”
Shit, this is it. Prom—the code word. His eyes flicker back to me, but this time feels different. He nods, as if to give me the go-ahead in case I forgot my cue. My thumb hovers over the play button on my phone, less than an inch away. I only have to close the distance.
I turn the lights off instead.
“What’re you—”
Before Anna can finish, I’m reaching across her lap, plugging the AUX cord into her phone, and cranking up her playlist. Applause drowns out any protests Joaquin may have had, the crowd chanting his name one last time as Principal Contreras ushers him off the stage. The heat of Anna’s eyes boring into me mixed with Joaquin helplessly wading through the crowd makethe room spin. With the lights back off and the music blasting, Contreras begins to panic, signaling for us to restore order before he loses control of the student body.
Luckily only one of us is midspiral. Anna flicks the lights back on and turns the music to a more respectable volume. Contreras gives us a grateful nod, clearing his throat until he has everyone’s attention again.
Anna slowly swivels her chair around to face me, like a movie villain. “Care to explain what that was?”
Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. Excuses and lies bubble up inside of me, and for a split second I wonder if I’m going to blurt all of them out at once. The door to the booth bursts open, startling both of us so bad we screech in unison.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s just me!” Joaquin waves his arms until we settle down, closing the door gently. “What happened back there?”
Their eyes shift to me.
