Page 41 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
Might as well save myself the nausea.
“It’s looking a lot like that.”
Anna nudges her shoulder against mine. “Maybe we can do something else instead. Order pizza and binge something laughably terrible.”
The thought is a bright spot in the storm clouds that have hovered over me this whole week. “It’d be an honor to eat pizza and binge something laughably terrible with you.”
Anna grins, tossing a loc over her shoulder. “It’s a date.”
With our prom night plans in place, we focus on bringing the town of Padua to life onstage. Now that there’s just over two weeks left until opening night, all six of us keep our heads down and get to work. The Emilys don’t even ask me about Joaquin—a first. We’re able to make a decent amount of progress in the hour we have before breaking for the night, enough that I’m no longer feeling like we’re in a desperate race against time to do the impossible.
“Need a ride home?” Anna asks as we grab our bags from backstage.
“Nah, I biked here so I should be…” I trail off as I take in the flurry of notifications waiting for me on my phone.
Tío Tony: 3 missed calls, 1 voice mail.
Mami: 4 missed calls, 2 voice mails.
Joaquin: 2 missed calls.
Tio Tony:
Are you on your way?
Is everything okay?
Your mother doesn’t know where you are either—call us back.
Mami:
Where are you?
Your tío said you missed your shift and haven’t responded to any of his messages
Joaquin doesn’t know where you are either
CALL ME ASAP
Joaquin:
Dude are you good?
Your mom just called me freaking out
“Shit, shit,shit!” I yell, slamming my foot in frustration. In the madness of running off to Dino World and trying to brainstorm potential skip day sabotage, I’d completely forgotten to tell Tío Tony that I’d be at tech crew today instead and wouldn’t be able to make it to my closing shift tonight.
“Scratch that, can you drop me off?” Based on how pissed Mami sounds in these messages—and I haven’t even opened the voice mails—I can’t waste time biking home.
Anna nods, spotting the worry written all over me, and we book it for the parking lot.
“You’re amazing, I love you and owe you my firstborn!” I shout to Anna as I pull my bike out of her trunk and run toward my house.
“Hope you don’t die!” she calls back, waiting until I’ve tossed my bike onto the front lawn and busted through the front door like an FBI agent on an arrest mission before driving away.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Ive,” Mami says as I trip into the house. She’s lingering by the doorway with her arms crossed, still wearing her purple scrubs. Nurse Oatmeal comes racing to the door, barking louder than ever thanks to my graceless entrance.
“I’m so sorry, I—”
