Page 24 of The Year I was Almost Prom Queen

Stephanie laughs. “You’ll have to put a parental advisory on that one.”

“No way! I would never share any of my vids. They’re just a way for me to rant and get my emotions out. Mrs. Reyes was actually right. I feel like it’s helping.”

“I think you should make your vlog public and put the screws to Brody,” she says. “He deserves it! Make his name popular for all the wrong reasons. You can share what really happened. I bet if enough people saw it, Brody’s parents would have to drop the charges against Jaron. Come on, Em, I’ll telleveryone I know to share it. That’ll really put the pressure on them. And on your dad.”

“I said no, Steph. Just drop it, okay?” My words come out more harshly than I intended.

Stephanie puts her hands up in surrender. “Fine,” she says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” I say, sitting back down beside her. “And I’m sorry. I just, I was actually starting to vibe with Jaron last night. I could feel something between us. Now, because of me, he might get kicked off the team. He’s probably never going to want to see me again.”

Stephanie walks over to my large, crowded bookshelf and scans the titles with her eyes. Then she pulls out a very old, very loved paperback. She tosses it onto the bed in front of me. I glance at the title and laugh. “It seems to me like you have a very Romeo and Juliet forbidden love thing going on.” She shrugs. “I’m just sayin’…”

Chapter Seven

Mom isn’t home tonight to help with hair and makeup. I have to fly solo. Dad took her out after the cheer competition, to celebrate her team’s win. The hot curling iron thing should be called a magic stick. Seriously, I’m ready to worship this thing. The way it sucks my hair up into it terrifies me. But the result looks pretty good in the end. My makeup is not nearly as good as Mom would have done it, but after watching six or seven tutorials on YouTube, it’s the best I could do.

When Ethan texts at 6:00pm saying he’s here, I’m more or less ready to go. I’m wearing clothes from Mom’s section of the closet again, but I’m a lot more self-conscious this time as I pull the door closed behind me. I sure hope I look okay. I climb into Ethan’s car.

“What happened to you last night?” he asks.

“You haven’t heard?”

Ethan shakes his head. “No, but now I’m even more curious.”

“After I got a drink, I decided to explore the house a little bit more. When I went downstairs, a bunch of guys from the baseball team were totally wasted. They surrounded me and were teasing me and stuff.”

Ethan looks toward me. “What?”

I try and brush it off. I just want the memory from that horrible night to be over. I’m tired of talking about it. “Jaron came down and tried to make them stop. He ended up punching Brody in the nose, and broke it. That’s when the party ended.”

“Oh man,” Ethan says, shaking his head slowly. “Parties weren’t nearly as wild before you started attending.”

My mouth drops open. As I look at Ethan, his lip curling upward, I realize he’s just teasing me. I slap his arm and he laughs.

“I’m a little jealous of Jaron though. He got to save the damsel in distress. Does this mean he won? Are you going to prom with him?”

“Nobody haswon,” I say, doing hand quotes in the air. “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

Ethan pumps his fist. “The competition is still on! You hear that, guys? Keep that hashtag Team Ethan going strong.”

I stop and glance up, noticing Ethan’s phone for the first time. It’s attached to the dashboard. I swallow hard. Then I reach up and end his stream.

“Hey, what was that for?” he asks.

“You can’t just record a person without their knowing it!” I say.

“Aw, come on Prom Queen, it’s the 21st century. Everything is recorded.”

“In the future, I need a head’s up,” I say. “What if I said or did something embarrassing? Or what if I wanted to have a private conversation with you?”

Ethan leans closer. “How private?” he asks in a mock sexy voice.

I push him away and we both laugh. He makes it really hard to stay mad.

“Well, you might end up taking me to prom by default,” I say.

“What, why?”

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