Mrs. Leonard takes two mixing bowls around the room and has the queen nominees pick from a bowl.
Callie reaches her hand into the bowl and holds her breath. Admittedly the stakes are high for Callie. Not only is Bryce, her ex-boyfriend, nominated, but so is her current boyfriend. She cringes as she reaches into the bowl and mutters a few prayers under her breath. Carefully, she unfolds her paper and sighs with relief as she sinks against Mitch’s shoulder.
“You sure this isn’t rigged?” asks Bryce.
Next up is Bekah. She unfolds her paper and reads, “Hannah.”
She turns around and smiles, and Hannah gives her a thumbs-up.
Next is my turn. Either way you slice it, this sucks. Bryce or Tucker. Both are my own personal nightmare fuel, but at least Bryce doesn’t pretend to be anything he’s not.
I stick my hand in the bowl and close my eyes, as if that could possibly help anything, and let my fingers dancebetween the two remaining slips of paper.
“Waylon, you’re going to have to choose eventually,” Hannah says.
She’s right. I pluck a piece of paper from the bowl with all the drama and flair deserving of a moment that is as extremely life or death as this one is.
I hand it to Hannah. “Read it.”
She releases a long sigh. “Tucker.”
Shit.I can’t even make myself turn around to look at him.
“Howdy, partner,” he mumbles from behind me.
I briefly sneer at him over my shoulder.
“Well,” says Mrs. Leonard. “That leaves Melissa and Bryce. Prom is three weeks away, people. We will have weekly check-in meetings and I’ll be speaking with each of your academic advisers to confirm your grade eligibility, but that’s it for now. Put on those thinking caps and feel free to come by with questions any time you like. I’ll see y’all next Monday!”
After she’s done speaking, I wait for the room to clear before approaching her desk. “Mrs. Leonard?”
She looks up and smiles.
“You have excellent cheekbones.”
She touches her fingers to her face. “Well, thank you. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, I need to switch partners.”
Her smiles fades. “I’m sorry, but unless your partner is ineligible, there is no switching.”
I try another tactic. “Don’t you think I should be pairedwith a girl? Maybe I could switch with Hannah?” Way to throw a friend under the bus, but desperate times.
“Mr. Brewer, is it?” she asks. “Some things about prom court may be different this year, but one thing that is not changing is how I structure prom court.”
“But—”
She gathers her papers and slides them into her red patent leather purse. “If you’re going to run for queen, then do it all the way. What’s that saying? Go big or go home? Go big, Mr. Brewer. Go big.”
Thirteen
We live on the older side of Clover City in the kind of house that looks like it could be a dollhouse, with little shutters and a small porch. It’s tiny, but it’s enough room for the four of us, and even though Mom and Dad have come a long way since they first bought this place fifteen years ago, they both think it’s wasteful to get anything bigger. So, even though Dad owns his own business and has as many employees as Bryce Dooley’s dad at his car dealership empire. Dad doesn’t think that just because you can afford to have bigger and better things, you should.
I, however, find comfort in material possessions and refuse to feel ashamed of it. Dad swears I get it from Grammy.
Regardless, if I’d known I would be trudging through sharp gravel and mud to get to Dad’s construction site, I probably would not have worn my favorite teal crushed-velvet Doc Martens. Did I mention that it’s only the third week of April and already sweltering? This weather is really not speaking to my footwear choices, but I spend so much energy making sure I don’t stand out that I like to takeadvantage of wearing a few of my favorite pieces when I’m going places where I won’t see anyone from school.
When I got home that afternoon, Mom was already busy making dinner, and she was in a great mood. I don’t know why and it honestly doesn’t matter, but when Mom is in a good mood, you’re either with her or against her. Which is why she did not take kindly to me attempting to pick a fight with Clem the moment we sat down for dinner.
