Page 51 of 10 Things I Hate About Prom
So, I let him walk away, likely to find Tessa, leaving me with a thousand questions.
Chapter Sixteen
If life with Joaquinwas Technicolor, life without him is gray. So dull and boring that the first two days back after the weekend bleed together with the same, draining monotony. Wake up. Go to school. Detention. Build sets. Work. Bed. Repeat.
My life is bleak in the aftermath of senior skip day. Some might even say it’s in shambles. Mami avoids me like the plague, and my best friend acts like I don’t exist. There’s no solace from my mistakes, no safe space where I can simply exist aside from behind the stage with Anna. I have to face the consequences of my terrible choices every day. First, in the kitchen at night, which is as empty as ever but without the lipstick kiss notes from Mami. And again, at school, watching Joaquin laugh and joke with his baseball friends while he ignores me every time we see each other in the halls. It’s like I’m a ghost, doomed to float through life without meaningful contact until I wither and die for real. Or run away and start a new life in some far-off place, like Alaska or Norway.
At this point, I’m counting down the days to Sarah Lawrence move-in. It should’ve felt exciting, sending in my deposit to my dream school using my meager Casa Y Cocina tips. And while part of me is still excited about the chance at a fresh start in August, the other just feels alone.
And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself.
“How’s it feel to be on the brink of freedom?” Anna, the last person in my life left standing, nudges her elbow against my arm until I give her a forced grin. “C’mon, give me something bigger than that. This is yourlastday of detention, get hype!”
While her attempts at forcing me out my slump are appreciated, they haven’t been that effective. Fortunately, I haven’t had to elaborate on my disastrous conversation with Joaquin. One look at me at Dino World and she immediately knew whatever went down between us didn’t end well. Thank God she knows how to read the room.
“Yaaaaay,” I say weakly, throwing in a finger twirl for pizazz.
Anna nods appreciatively. Either the twirl does the trick, or the bar is extremely low.
“Here’s the tech schedule for the rest of the week,” Anna says, pulling a sheet of paper out of her binder. “Consider it a last-day-of-detention gift.”
A gift indeed. Just the sight of the detailed schedule, ready and waiting to be color coded and annotated, makes my type A heart soar.
I rest my hand on Anna’s shoulder. “You’re a true friend.”
She grins, tossing a loc over her shoulder. “I know.”
Carefully, I tuck the schedule into my binder, feeling aglimmer of joy for the first time in days. “Think we can start adjusting the spotlights tomorrow? I know we’re not supposed to work on that until Thursday, but I’d rather get a jump on it since we’re so behind on the second-floor setup.”
Anna stiffens, the playfulness faltering. “I, uh…have plans tomorrow, actually.”
“Oh. That’s cool, I can just ask one of the Emilys to help me with the ladder, then.”
My response is calm, but she’s tightly wound, arms crossed and biting her lip like she’s about to burst.
“Are you o—”
“I’m going to prom,” she blurts out, almost shouting, earning her some weird glances from a passing group of hockey players.
“Congrats!” one of the boys calls out, giving her a celebratory fist bump before rejoining his pack.
“Oooookay,” I reply slowly, allowing myself time to process why her going to prom is such a massive concern that she had to blurt it out like she’s just confessed to high treason. “And is that a bad thing?”
“Well…no. Sort of?” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before starting over again. “I made a big show of not going, and then you weren’t going, and I said we could do the whole ‘fuck prom’ thing at my house and, well…I felt shitty about bailing on the planIcame up with. Especially with the whole…y’know.” She waves her hand in the area between us to, I’m assuming, demonstrate my fragile emotional state.
“Anna, it’s fine,” I reassure her, waiting until she peers up at me instead of down at her shoes to continue. “You’re allowed to go to prom even if you think it’s pro-capitalist bullshit.”
She softens, tugging at the end of a loc. “You’re not disappointed?”
In truth, a part of me is. Anti-prom with Anna was one of the few things I still had to look forward to. Prom is a little over two weeks away, and while a part of me hopes that things between Joaquin and I will have changed by then, realistically that’s not going to happen. Without me in the way, he’s free to orchestrate the promposal of his dreams for Tessa and sweep her off her size6feet. I’m sure their pre-prom photoshoot will be outrageously beautiful and shot by a professional photographer in Tessa’s impeccably maintained backyard.
Either way, my disappointment doesn’t mean Anna should stop herself from having fun. I’ve spent enough time this semester ruining someone else’s happiness for my own selfish interests.
“I’ll be even more disappointed if you don’t send me pictures of your dress.”
That gets her to duck her head sheepishly. “That’s where I’m going tomorrow, actually. My mom found a place two towns over that has some not-outrageously-terrible last-minute options. All that’s left at our mall are those weird neon cheetah-print cutout dresses with the rhinestones on the neckline.” We both shudder at the thought. “Those should be illegal. It’s inhumane to cheetahs, and my eyeballs.”
“Thoughts and prayers to the cheetahs,” I say through a giggle at the thought of Anna wearing an animal-print gown. “What made you change your mind?”
