"With great power comes great responsibility," I quipped.
Harrison's lips kicked up. "Fuck you're adorable."
He paused.
"And sexy."
My head turned so fast at his words I was surprised that I didn't get whiplash. His face was so close to mine I could smell the peppermint gum he was chewing.
"Don't tease me," I mumbled.
"I'm not, Gracie." He reached up again to brush a finger down my cheek.
"I know you're not planning on going to prom," he started, "but if a handsome quarterback who's been an idiot most of his life were to ask you...what would you say?"
My heart sped up. What was happening right now? I felt like I was in my own coming-of-age movie. I just hoped it didn't end with me locking the school hall doors and setting the venue on fire.
I wanted to be Sam, not Carrie.
"Gracie?" Harrison interrupted my dark thoughts. "Well? What would you say?"
I searched his warm brown eyes, noting his gaze's hesitancy and, dare I say, nervousness.
I took a deep breath. "I might say yes."
I was on a high the next day at school. Harrison hadn't asked me to prom yesterday evening, but I liked leaving it ambiguous. I mean, he would ask me, of course. Otherwise, why would he bring it up?
And God help me, I wanted to go.
I wanted to go with Harrison.
Ameila would have a field day over this. I wasn't sure if she would be super excited and insist on going dress shopping or dryly remind me of my lifelong promise to hate Harrison and his crew for the rest of my life.
The door to the school bathroom opened as I was washing my hands. I was too busy, lost in my cheerful thoughts, to notice who had joined me. The girl gazing back at me in the mirror was one I hardly recognized. Gone was the haunted, determined, hardened look I had carried for years. The dark shadows had eased from under my eyes, and the color of my pupils appeared brighter—a lighter sky blue than the stormy cloud that covered them.
I tried hard not to bethatgirl whose mood was altered by a mere boy…but I was failing hard and not at all sorry that I was on the verge of betraying the fairer sex.
"Oh, Gracie." Jessica Abbot stepped into my view behind me. I gave an undignified yelp at her sudden appearance. Her beautiful face was scrunched in pity as she scanned my reflection in the mirror.
"What do you want, Jessica?" I was bored of her nasty behavior. And with Harrison on my side, I didn't have to put up with it a minute longer.
"I just can't let him do this to you." She shook her head and peered at the ground, biting her lip.
I whirled to face her. For once, she didn't have her coven of witches surrounding her. We were alone.
"Let who do what to me?"
"Harrison." She stepped closer. A twitch of her upper lip was the only sign that showed her true dislike for me.
I moved back until my butt hit the sink. "What about him?"
"You know that tradition that seniors have?"
"No." I crossed my arms in a show of boredom. "Could you spit out whatever you want to say to me? I have things to do."
Jessica's eyes hardened. "The senior prank," she clarified. "The seniors—well, usually the football team and cheerleaders—decide on an epic prank to take out the year."
I forgot about that stupid tradition. Last year the seniors had somehow programmed the morning announcement to stream soundbites of porno. The year before, the students streaked nude through the field. Someone's bra and panties ended up on the flagpole the year before that. At the end of the day, even though seniors were on the cusp of adulthood, they were still ruled by their hormones. Therefore, we always ended up with sexually themed and unoriginal pranks.
