“Oh.” She waited for more of an explanation, but nonecame.
Maia dropped her gaze to her silverware, confused by London’s aloof behavior. Cherry and Kate had become her friends—they’d double- and triple-dated a few times. She liked both girls and was looking forward to talking about dresses and hair and their dates andeverything.
The appearance of their server was a relief. Maia smiled and ordered the raspberry chicken. London ordered thesteak.
He was stiff through dinner, hardly speaking unless spoken to. He cut two pieces of his steak and then pushed the plate aside, staring at his drink with a dull look. Maia tried several times to get him to talk, but he shook his head or gave her one-wordanswers.
In the car ride to the hotel where the dance was being held, he kept his arms to his side instead of laying one across her shoulders like he usually did. The air was chilly, and her arms broke out in goose bumps. She tried not to think about what London’s dad might have said to him, but she could imagine because she’d heard enough around town toimagine.
Once inside the hotel, with the music blasting from big black speakers near the DJ and her friends waving to her from the dance floor, Maia couldn’t believe tonight was as bad as London made it out tobe.
“Come on, let’s dance.” She grabbed his hand, easily the size of both of hers, and dragged him onto the dance floor. Everything was going okay. They stayed on the fringe, catching the last few bars of a fast song, and then she slipped into London’s arms for a slow song. It was the best part of the whole evening, snuggling into him, his hands resting on her lower back, and his breath warm on herneck.
The music shifted to a guitar intro and everything fellapart.
Brad Taylor was hopping around like a ninny in his imagionary mosh pit, and he bumped into London. London’s face clouded and grew red. He shoved Brad hard, sending him into another couple. “Watch where you’regoing.”
Brad straightened his blue jacket. “Dude—chillout.”
London grunted. “I’m going to get a drink,” he said toMaia.
She watched him leave, wondering what had happened to her mild-mannered boyfriend. Feeling the dozens of eyes on her alone in the middle of the dance floor, she scuttled after him. “Hey.” She tapped him on the arm. “What’s up with youtonight?”
“Nothing.” He took a swallow of the punch and grimaced. “I don’t feel likedancing.”
“Okay.” Maia looked around the room for something else for them to do at prom besides dance. “We can have our pictures taken, like you wanted. The photographer is set up in thecorner.”
He closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering hisstrength.
Maia placed a flat hand on her unsettledstomach.
“Let’s get this done.” He started off, not waiting forher.
She stood there for a moment—hating the position he’d put her in, again. She hurried to catch up to him. “Hey, I’m not following you around allnight.”
He stared at herblankly.
She sighed and slipped her fingers between his. “Can we walk together?” Like a normalcouple?
He softened ever so slightly. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” They stood in line. Maia talked to the couple in front of them. She’d had English with the girl, Jackie. Jackie wore a silver dress that was almost white with silver thread accents. Her date had on a silver tie. They kept smiling at each other like they shared a special secret. Maia glanced away, trying not to think that that should be her and London. Pretty soon, it was theirturn.
“Okay, you watched the last couple, so if you’ll stand like they did …” instructed thephotographer.
The tense parts of Maia relaxed as London’s warm hand settled on her waist. Everything was better when she was in his arms. She put her hand around him and gave him a little squeeze. London grunted, loudly. “I can’t …” He met Maia’s confused stare as he struggled to take abreath.
Maia leaned over with him. “What’swrong?”
“Your—” Pant, pant. “—arm. I—” Pant. “—can’t.”
She moved the two of them out of the way so the photographer could continue with the next group in line. London pulled himself together, but his breathing wasshallow.
“What is going on? London Wilder, you tell me what is happening withyou.”
“I’m sorry, Maia. I can’t be here with you—” His face contorted with pain and hecoughed.
He couldn’t have surprised her more if he’d coughed up a snake. “You can’t be withme?”
