“You shared some pretty private things about…people at this school.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” she said, meeting my gaze directly. “It was my way of being valuable to the group. I understand if you don’t believe me.”
I believed her, though trusting her might take time. But giving people a second chance was a good thing to do. Harper had done it for me.
I gave Delilah a smile and reached for my portfolio. “I’m glad you’re still here. Today’s kind of a big day.”
“I know!” she said, clapping her hands together. “I can’t wait to see the theme. Did the board love it?”
Earlier that week, I’d had a meeting with the Board of Trustees to show them my idea for the prom design and get budget approval. It had felt like going in for an important job interview and a Broadway audition all rolled into one. The looks of awe and approval on their faces when I showed them my plans gave me a rush of hope that my parents might feel the same.
“They approved it,” I told Delilah. “We are going to throw a Black-and-White Ball.”
I pulled out a series of sketches mounted on cardboard stock for what the Castle Hill Country Club ballroom would look like after we were done with it. Round tables would surround the dance floor, draped in white cloth and adorned with glass centerpieces of black-and-white balls, tall black candles, and white flowers. At the ballroom entrance, black balloons would rise from the floor in a narrow cluster, expanding to cover the ceiling like smoke. Clear balloons, tethered with LED-lit strings, would float between tables like crystal bubbles. Over the dance floor, a balloon “chandelier” of black and clear spheres would sparkle with delicate lights.
“Holy shit,” Delilah’s eyes widened as she flipped through thesketches. “Oh, Emery… It’s so beautiful. Just gorgeous, and it’s made mostly of balloons?”
“If we get the lighting right, they should look like glass orbs. The board wouldn’t let me suspend actual glass from the ceiling,” I said with a chuckle. “But they okayed glass in the centerpieces. I think it might turn out really nice.”
“Nice?” Delilah shrieked. “This is going to beepic.But is the dress code going to be black-and-white? Because I feel like the girlies aren’t going to want to be limited when it comes to their dresses.”
“Black-and-white attire is optional.”
But I already knew I was wearing white and Xander would look devastating in black. Yin and yang…
Or a couple at their wedding.
The thought gave me a jolt, but I shoved it away. Xander was going to be my date to the prom because once my parents saw what I could do, they’d be so happy, nothing else would matter.
I glanced at my sketches and then at Delilah. “This is going to be a lot of work for just the two of us.”
She brushed the dark cloud of ringlets from her shoulder and whipped out a clipboard and pen. “We got this. We’ll handle the details and hire guys to do the actual…ballooning. Okay, what else do we need?”
We brainstormed for another hour, our to-do list growing longer than a CVS receipt, and by the end, I felt optimistic. We had plenty of time and the trustees had given me an insane budget.
Delilah and I wrapped up the meeting, and she gave me a quick hug before we parted ways.
“Thanks, Em.”
“For what?”
“For being friends with me still. When I’m around you, I feel like it’s okay to not be performing all the time. To not be so fake, you know?”
I smiled. “I know what you mean.”
On my way to the car, I spotted Xander walking with Harper and Dean. He gave the slightest of nods and a smile. My calculus final was tomorrow, and we had one more tutoring session at his place that afternoon to save me from disaster.
I crooked my pinky at him, my heart swelling and skin already tingling, anticipating Xander’s hands on me after all the boring math was out of the way, even if he never let it go much further than touching over clothes.
Because he’s the best person I know, and we might only have a few months left together on the same side of the country.
The thought brought fast tears to my eyes, but I pushed those down too.
“I have a plan,” I told the doubting voices and clutched my portfolio tighter to me. “And it’s going to work.”
***
Two hours later, I was at Xander’s desk in his loft, watching him grade the practice test he’d made for me. My heart skipped a beat when he frowned at the equations I’d labored over, his expression grim.
