Page 40 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
“This is gonna be epic,” he says under his breath.
He’s right. It would be the most epic, showstopping promposal of the year, and if Tessa said no, I’m sure half our class will claim to lose their faith in true love.
“It would be,” I reply, my voice barely a whisper.
But it’s never going to happen.
Chapter Thirteen
There’s no returning tonormal in the aftermath of Dino World. After I blamed my sudden mood shift on an upset stomach, Joaquin dropped me off at home and sped away with stars in his eyes and Tessa on the brain. With just a week until senior skip day, we’ve both got to kick our asses into gear. Him, trying to plan out his picture-perfect promposal, and me figuring out how to stop it.
It’s impressive how much Joaquin is able to get done so quickly. I scan the itinerary he sent over last night, an hour after dropping me off at home. His plan to have Danny’s cousin, Dino World’s resident Diana the Diva Dino mascot, escort Tessa around the park, collecting free prizes and funnel cakes along the way, before ultimately leading her to the gazebo at the center of the light show, is pure magic.
And more importantly, it has plenty of opportunities for sabotage.
I take one last look at the itinerary, committing it to memoryeven though I have plenty of photos of it on my phone, and approach the boy waiting outside the second-floor bathroom forme.
“Are you Jonathan?” I ask, taking a hesitant step back when I spot the guy taking a hit off a Juul as I approach. That’sdefinitelynot allowed indoors.
The boy—Jonathan—nods and shoves a greasy lock of dark hair beneath his lime-greenAliens R for Realbeanie. I quickly hand him the itinerary and an envelope full of the last of Joaquin’s summer job money since Jonathan “doesn’t trust money transfer apps.” Joaquin would’ve delivered the goods himself if there wasn’t a strict “arrive on time or run five laps” policy in place for his remaining baseball practices.
Jonathan quickly counts the stack of bills, nodding in approval before kicking himself off the wall and tossing his spent Juul pod onto the floor.
With the deal done and dusted, I text Joaquin that the plan is in motion and race toward the auditorium to work on what little set design I can now that I’m free from detention.
And almost run directly into a cow.
Standing in front of the staircase leading down to the auditorium is a real, whole-ass cow, decked out in a pink frilly bonnet and a sash that readsI’m Udderly Obsessed With You.
“Promposal,” Anna explains, walking out of the auditorium with an armful of used paintbrushes. I should’ve known.
“What’s it still doing here?” The cow gives me a thousand-yard stare.
“Turns out cows can’t go downstairs, so…” Anna shrugs. “Guess they’re waiting until his real owner comes and gets him.”
I’m sure “no livestock on campus” will be added to theever-growing student handbook by the end of the year. Right after “No T-shirt cannons or bees.”
“Where were you?” Anna asks with a raised brow. “I thought detention ended ten minutes ago.”
“Just handling some stuff for senior skip day,” I say, convincingly enough that she doesn’t see right through me. I really am getting good at this whole constant lying thing.
Anna nods, and I join her as we walk down the hall to the drinking fountain to clean off the brushes.
“Speaking of which, let me know if you need a ride. My mom’s out of town for some health care conference the next two weeks, so I get the car.” Anna punctuates the statement by pulling the keys out of her vintage blazer pocket, jangling them with a grin.
“You’re actually going?” Not that I’m complaining about having Anna around—she’s so against school-sanctioned events I wouldn’t have put it past her to skip senior skip day and just stay home.
“That’s breaking the cardinal rule of senior year,” she says, as if it’s obvious, while wiping down the last of the brushes.
“Shouldn’t going to prom be theactualcardinal rule of senior year?” I ask as we make our way back to the auditorium.
Anna rolls her eyes. “Absolutely not. Senior skip day is a ‘fuck you’ to the admin while prom is just an excuse to wear overpriced clothes, eat some dry, seasoning-free chicken, and listen to an underpaid DJ play one-hit wonders from when our parents were teenagers. No thank you.”
And here I thoughtIwas cynical about prom. “Well, for what it’s worth, we would’ve looked super cute.”
She leans over to pinch my cheek. “The cutest.” Suddenly, her smile falls. “Wait, is this you saying that you’re not going to prom too?”
After all my prom-related exploits, definitely not. Dances have never been my thing, though Joaquin and I do have a number of them under our belts. The awkward pictures on the front lawn and the shoes that always pinch and the small talk with people from my classes while Joaquin, someone with actual dance moves, parties it up on the dance floor. Even if my nonexistent plan comes together and Joaquin doesn’t go with Tessa, who’s to say he won’t spend the entire night trying to woo her anyway?
