Page 49 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
My throat goes dry as the Sahara Desert, unable to chokeout the dozens of questions I have for her. “Why didn’t you say anything? If you knew this whole time?”
“Because that’s not my business,” she replies casually. “Don’t you watch rom-coms? No one ever tells the protagonist they’ve got it bad for the love interest. They have to figure it out for themselves. Or else, where’s the fun?”
“So you waitedfour yearsfor me to figure it out?”
“To be fair, I didn’t think you were going to figure it out until after college,” she says. “Do the whole ‘see other people, go through your own heartbreak, then find your way back to each other over the summer’ thing. Very cliché. Very Hallmark.”
While the reassurance that my emotions aren’t just some jealous, spiteful part of me trying to sabotage Tessa at the expense of my friendship is validating, it doesn’t ease any of my nerves. If anything, it makes them worse. We’ve already dated different people before. Sure, both instances were brief and not exactly sweeping romances for the ages, but why didn’t we find our way to each other then, if that was all we needed to realize who was standing right in front of us? More importantly, if it’s always been this obvious how I feel, does Joaquin know too? And if so, that opens a door to a nebulous world of possibilities.
Mainly, that he doesn’t feel the same way about me.
The thought of Joaquin shutting me down makes my knees weak, a startling cold seeping through the humidity and deep into my bones. Anna notices the shift in my posture, the way I hunch in on myself.
“This is a good thing,” Anna reassures me, gently grippingmy shoulders. “Being honest isalwaysa good thing. No matter what comes next.”
I want to ask her how she knows, but a piercing velociraptor roar startles us both. The roar subsides, a cheery voice blaring through the PA system to announce that the light show will begin in fifteen minutes.
“It’s go time,” Anna announces, taking my hand and pulling me into the crowd.
We almost lose each other in the sea of parents, children, and classmates, our hold on each other so tight Anna’s violet coffin nails leave marks on the back of my hand. Like the pep rally, we’re able to make it through the throng of bodies mostly unscathed but drenched in sweat. For a fleeting instant, I almost wish I’d taken a shot of Raspberry Unicorn for strength. Anna hops onto a nearby bench, shielding her eyes from the glare of the setting sun as she scans the crowd.
“Found him!” She lets out an excited squeak before hopping off the bench and bustling me toward the right side of the park. It doesn’t take long for me to see Joaquin too. Alone, solid as an anchor as crowds come and go around him, in front of the Ferris wheel instead of at the gazebo like he’d originally planned. He’s dressed up for the occasion, wearing black jeans and a white button-down rolled up to his elbows. His jaw seems sharper, too, more defined. Like he was carved by the angels themselves. I swallow hard. He’s unbelievably beautiful, and I can’t believe it took me this long to notice.
“Maybe I shouldn’t do this,” I mumble, already prepared to head back the way we came.
“Oh no, no, no.” Anna hooks an arm around my shoulders, yanking me forward before I can make it more than five feet. “No chickening out.”
She tries to push me forward, but I’m rooted in place, terror keeping my limbs locked. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” I ask under my breath, a question I don’t expect her to have an answer to but need to purge from my brain regardless.
“Then he doesn’t,” she replies calmly. “But at least you’ll know.”
I could remain standing here and try to decode the sadness in her voice, the way her hands tighten around me as she says it. But this isn’t about prying truths out of her, and with every minute I waste wondering if this is the right decision, I’m one step closer to losing my chance for good.
“Okay,” I say after what feels like an eternity of watching Joaquin scour the crowd for someone I know isn’t me and start heading toward him.
Each step feels like a thousand miles. Closing the short few yards of distance shouldn’t take as long as it does, but the voice that’s plagued me since Joaquin came home from spring break ramps up to full volume as I let my body carry me forward.This is a mistake, he’ll never feel the same way, if he did he would’ve told you by now, he’ll be happier with someone else.Taunts and doubts on loop, overlapping one another until I can’t think straight. But when he finally turns to see me, my mind goes quiet.
“Hey.” A smile breaks out across my face as our eyes meet, the worry melting off me. It’s impossible not to feel weightless when he looks at me, my body rushing to close the last bit ofdistance as I wait for that same smile to take over him too. The one that feels like he’s reserved just for me.
But it never comes.
His lips tug into a frown as I finally reach him, his sharp jaw clenched as if he’s been gritting his teeth. Everything about him becomes startlingly unfamiliar. The balled fists and locked shoulders, his warm brown eyes turned dark and cold.
“Are you okay?” I ask, quickly scanning him for any signs of what might’ve gone down.
He doesn’t respond, shifting his steely gaze away from me to somewhere off in the distance. “Did something hap—”
“You told Jonathan to take Tessa to the Haunted Hadrosaurus?” Joaquin cuts off my question with one of his own.
The harshness of his voice catches me off guard, the boom of it knocking me back like a shove. “How did—”
“He just told me he left her there,” Joaquin finishes for me. Across the crowd, I spot Diana the Diva Dino slipping a vape pen beneath the edge of her oversized head.
Every part of me goes into hyperdrive, my body trembling from the effort of keeping myself upright. Tears burn my vision before I can even open my mouth, the guilt I’ve been swallowing for so long crawling up like bile. “I…I…I’m…” Everything I come up with falls short of everything I want to say, and the things I can’t explain. Because what am I? Sorry? A liar? A shitty excuse for a friend? All of the above?
“I…I’m sorry, Joaquin,” I eventually manage to stammer out.
“So you did it on purpose?” he snaps, the tears clouding my vision answering that question for me. “What the hell, Ive?!”
