She stares at me for a long moment, her usual snarky confidence faltering.
“That’s not fair,” she says softly, almost defensively. “I wasn’t trying tohumiliateyou.”
“Weren’t you?” I shoot back, turning in to the school parking lot. “Because it felt like it.”
I hate being put on the spot.
That’s why I hated having to pull off the senior prank; they left me with no choice.
I ease into an empty space and put Dan’s car in park; its engine purrs quietly as we sit in tense silence. Maddie looks out the window, her gaze fixed on our classmates walking toward the entrance of the gym in their finery.
Sparkling dresses shine under the lights.
“Well,” Maddie says in a clipped tone. “I guess I made a mistake asking you.Sorryfor thinking youwantedto come to prom with me.”
I let out a sigh, leaning back against the headrest.
This conversation is bonkers.
“That’s not—” I stop myself, shaking my head. Now I feel bad that I made her feel bad. How fucked up is that? “You know what? Forget it. Let’s just go inside.”
Maddie doesn’t move.
Doesn’t unbuckle her seat belt, doesn’t reach for her phone, doesn’t glance in my direction. She keeps her eyes trained on the parking lot, the silence stretching until I can no longer take it.
My hand braces on the door handle.
“Are you coming?” I ask her.
“No,”she snaps, crossing her arms and glaring out the window. “Why would I want to go inside with you after that little rant? Clearly I’m just a selfishbratruining your night.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “That isnotwhat I said.”
I might have thought it. But I didn’t say it.
“Close enough.” She twists her body to face me, chin tilted defiantly. “You made it pretty clear you’re miserable. So go on. Go ahead without me, Easton. Go have yourstupidnight with yourstupidfriends. I’ll get an Uber home.”
Jesus Christ, she is so dramatic.
I lean my head against the headrest, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Shit, Maddie. Can you stop for, like, two seconds?”
She huffs, crossing her legs and tapping a heel against the car floor. “Stop what?Breathing? Existing? Sorry my presence is such a burden.”
I unpinch my nose and turn to face her, my patience wearing thinner. “Stop turning this back on me. Stop acting like I’m a jerk for being honest.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I hurtyourfeelings after you hurt mine?” I swear her bottom lip is trembling, but it’s dim in Dan’s car and I can’t tell for certain. “I didn’t realize this date came with free therapy.”
That is not what this is.
“God, you’re impossible! Why are you so goddamn rude all the time?” I blurt, running a frustrated hand through my hair and feel it sticking out all over. Honest to god, I want to pull it out. “You think everything is a performance, don’t you? This is real life, not fucking TikTok.”
She freezes, mouth gaping like she’s about to snap back—or just snap—but no sound comes out. This is the second time tonight I’ve stunned her into silence.
I watch as her fingers (nails painted a light blue to match her dress) tighten around the strap of her purse, holding on to it as if it were a lifeline. I’m fully expecting her to lash out at me again.
But when she does speak, her voice is quiet.
Controlled.
