pop music. Unsurprisingly, many of the photos prominently featured members of the prom committee. The dinner itself was mediocre; the chicken was overcooked and the beef underdone. Jessa’s vegetarian “option” was a wilted salad with some kind of bean thrown in for protein.
“This is kind of depressing,” Kate said after a while, once all the customary small talk had been exhausted and we’d all thoroughly discussed the sad state of our food. “You pay sixty bucks, dress up all fancy, and for what?”
“Maybe it’ll be better once the dancing starts,” Jessa suggested, sounding hopeful. “Besides, this is the last opportunity for you to dress like this until your wedding and God knows how long it’ll take you to—” She seemed to hear how condescending she sounded and cut herself off before any of us could. “Sorry.”
“And with whom do you suggest I dance?” Kate asked, throwing me a wink before she stared down Jessa. “Our group seems a little unbalanced to me.”
“I’m sure Brandon wouldn’t mind taking turns, right?” Brandon made a noncommittal noise as he finished off what was left of his potatoes. “See? He’ll dance with you. And you look stunning . You’ll be asked to dance all night!”
“Shh, look! It’s us!” Ricky squealed excitedly. We all glanced up at the screen in time to see a picture of me, Jessa, Kate, and Ricky starburst into yet another image of Janet Morrison, yearbook editor and prom committee chairman. “We made it into the video! When was that taken?”
“After I won valedictorian,” I said, remembering the day vividly. Janet had approached me just after first period the day the announcement had been made and demanded a photo for the yearbook, cornering me like a scared animal at my locker. Feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of having a picture of just myself taken, I pulled the other three in as they came out of Calculus II and posed for the photo.
“When was that, April?” Ricky asked, fiddling with her third napkin. A little pile of shredded paper was growing beside her plate, the remnants of the first two.
“End of March,” Kate corrected, glancing at me and then looking pointedly away, embarrassed. I touched her knee lightly under the table in reassurance. Her hand covered mine and remained there, solid and unseen.
March 29th
“I’ M SO pumped!” Kate threw her backpack down onto my bedroom floor and then did a high kick to express how pumped she was. “Yeah!”
“How is it that you’re still running off adrenaline from my victory?” I asked, putting my own book bag down much more carefully. “And watch where you’re kicking. Don’t knock over a lamp.”
Kate flopped down on my bed and toed off her shoes, little silver ballet flats with pink bows at the toes. “You’re going to be valedictorian . That’s so rad.”
I unlaced my Converse and then lined our shoes up beside my bed, climbing in after her as if I were made of all limbs. She had to duck to avoid one of my legs colliding with her head.
“No one says rad anymore,” I said.
“I’m bringing it back.”
I pulled out my laptop and chemistry textbook, ready to start studying. Kate groaned and then took my textbook from me and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. I made a noise that could be accurately described as a squawk and flailed my arms.
“Break time!” Kate announced.
“We haven’t even started yet!” I protested, trying to reach over her for the lost book. “There’s going to be a quiz on Tuesday!”
“We’ll get to it. But first! First , you have to write a kick-ass valedictorian speech.” Kate rolled onto her stomach and pulled my laptop up close to her face. She opened the web browser and began to plod away at the keyboard with two fingers, misspelling “valedictorian” in her search query.
“I have plenty of time to write my speech,” I pointed out but made myself comfortable next to her anyway. It had only been two weeks since
“This is kind of depressing,” Kate said after a while, once all the customary small talk had been exhausted and we’d all thoroughly discussed the sad state of our food. “You pay sixty bucks, dress up all fancy, and for what?”
“Maybe it’ll be better once the dancing starts,” Jessa suggested, sounding hopeful. “Besides, this is the last opportunity for you to dress like this until your wedding and God knows how long it’ll take you to—” She seemed to hear how condescending she sounded and cut herself off before any of us could. “Sorry.”
“And with whom do you suggest I dance?” Kate asked, throwing me a wink before she stared down Jessa. “Our group seems a little unbalanced to me.”
“I’m sure Brandon wouldn’t mind taking turns, right?” Brandon made a noncommittal noise as he finished off what was left of his potatoes. “See? He’ll dance with you. And you look stunning . You’ll be asked to dance all night!”
“Shh, look! It’s us!” Ricky squealed excitedly. We all glanced up at the screen in time to see a picture of me, Jessa, Kate, and Ricky starburst into yet another image of Janet Morrison, yearbook editor and prom committee chairman. “We made it into the video! When was that taken?”
“After I won valedictorian,” I said, remembering the day vividly. Janet had approached me just after first period the day the announcement had been made and demanded a photo for the yearbook, cornering me like a scared animal at my locker. Feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of having a picture of just myself taken, I pulled the other three in as they came out of Calculus II and posed for the photo.
“When was that, April?” Ricky asked, fiddling with her third napkin. A little pile of shredded paper was growing beside her plate, the remnants of the first two.
“End of March,” Kate corrected, glancing at me and then looking pointedly away, embarrassed. I touched her knee lightly under the table in reassurance. Her hand covered mine and remained there, solid and unseen.
March 29th
“I’ M SO pumped!” Kate threw her backpack down onto my bedroom floor and then did a high kick to express how pumped she was. “Yeah!”
“How is it that you’re still running off adrenaline from my victory?” I asked, putting my own book bag down much more carefully. “And watch where you’re kicking. Don’t knock over a lamp.”
Kate flopped down on my bed and toed off her shoes, little silver ballet flats with pink bows at the toes. “You’re going to be valedictorian . That’s so rad.”
I unlaced my Converse and then lined our shoes up beside my bed, climbing in after her as if I were made of all limbs. She had to duck to avoid one of my legs colliding with her head.
“No one says rad anymore,” I said.
“I’m bringing it back.”
I pulled out my laptop and chemistry textbook, ready to start studying. Kate groaned and then took my textbook from me and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. I made a noise that could be accurately described as a squawk and flailed my arms.
“Break time!” Kate announced.
“We haven’t even started yet!” I protested, trying to reach over her for the lost book. “There’s going to be a quiz on Tuesday!”
“We’ll get to it. But first! First , you have to write a kick-ass valedictorian speech.” Kate rolled onto her stomach and pulled my laptop up close to her face. She opened the web browser and began to plod away at the keyboard with two fingers, misspelling “valedictorian” in her search query.
“I have plenty of time to write my speech,” I pointed out but made myself comfortable next to her anyway. It had only been two weeks since
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