Page 1 of The Prom King & The Ice Queen

Savannah

There’sa steady stream of chatter going on around me at the cafeteria table, but I poke my spoon into my Greek yogurt and ignore it.

It’s times like these when I really can’t explain what I’m doing here.

And by ‘here,’ I don’t mean in the existential kind of way. I’m not all that concerned with the meaning of life, just the reason that I’m sitting here. At this particular table.

“Don’t you think so, Savannah?” Brittany asks.

I nod. I don’t even have to know the question to get the answer right. April has been going on for the last ten minutes about how annoyed she is that she wasn’t invited to the new girl’s birthday party.

Why this was so upsetting, I have no idea. But I learned a long time ago that one didn’t use reason with girls like April. She’s been on the warpath ever since her ex Shane broke up with her at the end of summer.

April isn’t exactly living her best life when she’s single. Her world pretty much revolves around her status. Her relationship status, her popularity status, her family’s social status, her daddy’s credit card status…

Okay, fine. Maybe credit card status isn’t a thing, but in this town which is firmly divided between the haves and the have nots, money is definitely a thing. Wealth is a thing. A family name? Yeah, that’s definitely a thing people care about—not just April.

Our town of Lindale is one of those tourist getaways in the mountains of Montana. During the winter it’s a ski town, and during the summer, visitors flock to the nearby lake. Most of the wealth comes from families with vacation homes, but there are also some full-time richies, as my mom used to call them when I was a kid.

My dad called them criminals.

Both of them were so bitter you could taste it whenever we drove through the wealthy neighborhoods—the upscale suburbs filled with McMansions like April’s and the old-money, classy neighborhoods like the one where the Barons live.

And it’s the Barons that April is hung up on right now.

“It’s not like I want to go to this stupid party anyway,” April’s saying.

It’s a struggle not to laugh at that. For the last ten minutes, me and the others had been listening to April moan about how rude it was of Leo Barons not to invite her to the new girl’s birthday party at his house. Or no, it’s at his grandparents house, which is even swankier than his family’s mansion.

“It wasn’t Leo that didn’t want you there,” Brittany says, her nose wrinkling with disdain as she glances over toward the cafeteria line where the new girl Addie is laughing at something her boyfriend said.

April narrows her eyes as she follows Brittany’s stare. “Addie’s got some nerve. Does she think she’s something special just because one of the Barons has a thing for her?” She scoffs. “Please. So she’s hooking up with the unwanted son from the wrong side of the tracks…that’s hardly something to brag about.”

I shift in my seat, wishing like hell that I was anywhere but here.

It’s a recurring wish that’s come up far too often lately. But today I find myself glancing longingly toward a table on the far side of the room where my work friends are laughing.

Isla and Callie are leaning into each other, giggling uncontrollably over who knows what. Meanwhile, Willow looks on with a tolerant smile like she’s not quite sure why this is so funny, but she likes to see them laugh.

I kinda wish I was sitting there with them. Not only to know what they’re laughing about, but because they’d understand why I’m so freakin’ exhausted today. They wouldn’t expect me to do anything other than stare into the distance.

“Well, I’m not going either,” Brittany says.

“Me neither,” Cora adds.

A long silence falls and for a second I don’t even realize that they’re waiting for me. April’s brows are arched in expectation.

She’d never outright ask me not to go to Addie’s party as some sort of boycott to prove…what? That April is just as petty as she is unpleasant?

“I’m working the party,” I say with a little shrug.

“Oh right,” April says slowly. “I forgot.”

She didn’t forget. And I don’t miss the smug little smile she shares with Brittany across the table.

My chin goes up higher like it always does when I feel April’s claws coming out.

See, the thing with me and April is…we’re not friends. Not really. We’re allies, for the most part. We’d formed a truce of sorts back in junior high when it became clear to me that April would always have some clout thanks to her family’s name and wealth. And April realized that she’d never be able to take me down as the most popular girl in our class.

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