Page 89 of Kiss Collector
“Get up there, Miss Popular.” Joel nudges me, and I groan. “But you might wanna wipe the frosting from your face first.” I gasp and wipe at my face, making him laugh. “Nah, just messing with you.” I slap him, and Monica joins us, taking my hand and leading me onto the dance floor. We move next to Meeka, gorgeous in sleek, thin braids. She got suspended for a day and Camille got three for attacking her. But Meeka has healed from her scratches and bruises, and holds her head high.
I take her hand, too, and the three of us stand together with the three junior guys to our left. The spotlights make me squint.
“First, I’d like to announce our junior-class prince,” Mrs. Hartt says. “Congratulations, Dean Prescott!”
I clap, and Monica whistles through her fingers, nearly blowing out my eardrums and making everyone laugh. Mrs. Hartt puts a manly, thick, gold circlet on his head. The obnoxious one with red velvet is reserved for the king, along with a velvet cape.
“And now, for your junior-class princess!” I grasp hands with the girls again.Please say Monica, please, please, please...And then...
“Zae Monroe!”
I stand there frozen. The sound of applause warbles in my eardrums. Both Monica and Meeka shove me. I turn to Monica, and she gives me the kind of smile that only a friendcan give you when she is surely feeling wrecked with disappointment.
“Go,” she mouths.
Mrs. Hartt is trying to adhere a tiara to my curls, and I trust her not to mess it all up. “There,” she whispers, giving my shoulders a squeeze and beaming at me before she urges me to stand next to Dean.
I’m in a complete daze as the king and queen are announced. I smile for pictures and marvel at how this is my life. I didn’t believe my name would be called. I really didn’t.
“And now it’s time for the royal court dance!” says Mrs. Hartt.
The what? A slow song comes on and Dean turns to me, not meeting my eye. Ugh. Freaking ugh. We pause long enough to make things uncomfortable. Then I suck it up and put both hands on his tall, wide shoulders. He puts his fingertips to my waist. We proceed to hold each other at arm’s length as we rock stiffly back and forth, looking everywhere but at each other, fully aware that everyone is staring at us and taking pictures.
Most awkward moment of my life. And I’m pretty sure it’s the longest song in history. I glance toward the cake area where I left Joel, wondering if he’s laughing at me, but he’s not there. I look all around and find him in a corner talking to Sierra. My mouth and throat suddenly go dry.
As the song ends, I mutter, “Congratulations,” and he says back quietly, “You, too.”
Dean and I walk back to where we were all sitting and proceed to get dogged by our entire group of friends. Kenzie isgiggling too hard to talk.
“What the hell was that?” Lin asks us.
“You looked like prom zombies,” Parker says.
Dean’s face is red, but he gives that dimpled smile. “I was just trying to be respectful.”
Monica squeezes herself under his arm and gives me a wink. I wink back.
“Look at this picture,” Kenzie says, showing how ridiculous we looked, like middle schoolers afraid to touch.
I push her phone away with a laugh. “No, thank you.” I lived the moment, that’s enough for me. I look toward the corner where Joel and Sierra had been talking, but they’re not there anymore. I don’t see either of them anywhere.
“Who did Sierra come with?” I ask.
“Bodhi,” Dean answers. “But he’s wrecked from drinking in the limo.”
“Where did Joel go?” The question slips out, but I don’t care.
“I think he left with Sierra,” Vincent says.
Left with her? I turn away from them and pretend to be looking for my drink so they won’t see the disappointment on my face. Why did they leave together? Are they... ? I shake the thought away. I have no claim to him. But that fact doesn’t stop my stomach from hurting.
“We need a group picture with the crown and tiara now,” Kenz says.
We pose for more pictures, and though plenty of time passes, Joel does not return, and neither does the feeling of happiness I had while he was here.
I have no right to be upset. I sort of adopted him as mine tonight, but he’s not mine. I give myself a pep talk. We’re not together. He doesn’t answer to me. I’m here for my friends. I don’t need a guy.
Speaking of guys, Taro Hattori strides over at that very moment, looking fine with his black hair shining under the lights, hiding part of his face. He’s with a guy and girl I’ve seen at the skate park. I notice he has a new eyebrow ring that is beyond sexy.
