“We can figure something out,” I insist.
“The admin said that students are allowed to go in groups, and if I go with you, three people already make up a group,” I suggest. “Dani memorizes the school handbook inside and out, so she, of all people, would know how to get away with things. And as for your parents, just say that Dani’s in choir. She goes to Mass all the time too.”
I’m brainstorming more ideas when Kayla says, “You said you would rather get braces again than go to prom.”
“I was exaggerating—”
“And you hate Dani.”
“I don’t hate Dani,” I defend myself. “There are just people in this world that I’d prefer to take in small doses. Dani happens to be one of them.”
“You also said you would beatbox while wearing a bikini before setting foot inside prom.”
“Kayla.” I quickly cut her off and ignore the smirk that materialized on Seph’s face when Kayla mentioned the bikini idea. “Ignore what I said before.”
“It’s just…” She pauses and her eyes mist over. “You would really go to prom with me?”
“I’m not the one who gave you the fruit basket,” I remind her.
I then feel the need to add, “True or false. Best friends, right?”
“True.” That gets me her biggest smile yet.
“Oh my god.” Kayla suddenly sits up. “I need to answer Dani.”
“Saying yes in person is better,” Seph says.
“Why don’t you tell her in class?” I suggest.
Kayla suddenly gets shy. “We’re actually meeting after this.
“Dani and I sometimes catch up before school, whenever we don’t have band practice,” she admits.
Seph does a low whistle. “You’ve been having busy mornings.”
“Do you think I should prompose to her back?” she asks Seph. “I could sing to her, or maybe you can sing to her?”
“Moseph doesn’t have to sing,” I answer before he plans on doing another Ed Sheeran cover. People really need to know that there are other romantic gestures besides serenading.
Kayla’s face is still emanating stress. Her expression is the same one she had when her mom once told her the only movie she’ll ever need to watch is the documentary she showed us about the Bible.
But then she listens when Seph says, “All you need is to say yes.
“She clearly likes you enough to ask you, and she seems like she gets you too.” He gestures toward the fruit basket, apparently Kayla’s love language.
Kayla processes this while eating the last of her orange slices. She wipes her hands on her skirt and stands with conviction. “I’m going to say yes.”
Seph and I both whoop, but Kayla hesitates. “Should I bring her a fruit basket too?”
“Go, go!” I push her before any doubt creeps back in again. “No serenading, no fruit baskets, just go say yes already.”
It takes another dozen back-and-forths before Kayla finally takes off—which leaves me and Seph alone in the auditorium.
Okay, now I can finally resume ignoring him. Once we finish packing our things, Moseph King will go back to being the boy who happens to live in the same building. Nothing more.
Although his constant watching isn’t helping. At all.
Every move I make around the stage, I can feel Seph’s eyes following me. Plus, he keeps opening and closing his mouth, never saying anything. Even if I was planning on ignoring anything that comes out of his mouth regardless, it’s still sofrustrating.
