Prom Date (14 page)

“Cassidy told me. She was coming to get you to give you a ride. But I told her to go on home and that I'd give you a lift. If that's okay.”

“Hey, it's better than riding the activities bus.”

“I wanted to explain why it took me so long to ask you,” he said quietly as they walked through the locker bay.

This she wanted to hear—so she said nothing.

“At first I was kind of into the prom boycott thing. But then I realized it was pretty childish. And I knew you wanted me to ask you. But I wanted to do it in my own timing . . . my own way. And even though everyone is starting to get into the whole promposal thing—by the way, a bunch of guys were springing them on girls after school—I didn't want to ask you
because
of the contest, you know? I wanted to ask you just because I wanted to ask you, Emma. Does that make sense?”

“It does to me.”

“Because I do want to take you to prom—but not to win a contest. I just wanted to ask you in my own way, you know?”

She held up her cup. “This mocha works for me.”

“Cool.”

As they walked out to Isaac's car, Emma thought Isaac's invitation couldn't have been better. “I'm glad you didn't have anyone record it,” she said as they got into his car. “I like that it was just between you and me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Me too. Besides, we already won the Christmas ball prize. It would be embarrassing to win the prom one too.”

She laughed. “Well, no offense, but as much as I'm enjoying this mocha I don't think it could've beaten Devon's Juliet or Marcus's temporary tattoo. Even Mazie's cupcakes would probably get more votes.”

“Yeah, I know. And believe it or not, I did spend some time trying to think of something more clever, not to win a prize, but just for fun, you know? But when I saw your face at lunch—when Marcus surprised Felicia—well, I knew I needed to get on this thing fast.”

“Well, thanks, Isaac.” She sighed as she took another sip of mocha. At least she hadn't told Cassidy that she'd do the girls' group date yet. She was glad to know that she'd truly been willing to do that. She glanced at Isaac. But this was better. Much better.

B
y Wednesday, Abby was starting to plan a promposal of her own. If Kent wasn't going to ask her, she would simply swallow her pride and ask him. After all, there was no denying that they were friends—and on good enough terms to attend prom together. And she'd already hinted to her parents that she was going and, although Dad acted like Dad, he did give his okay. The only problem now was Kent. If the boy kept dragging his heels, she had no problem jumping in and possibly making a total fool of herself. Best case scenario, she might win a bike. If only she could think of something really fabulous to do. Especially since Kent appeared sadly unmotivated.

But to be fair, she knew the whole track team had been distracted with really hard practices this week. Their first big meet was coming up on Thursday and the whole team was focused on improving times and being in tip-top form. So if Abby did a promposal—and she just might—it would
have to wait until Friday. But she was determined that Friday would be her deadline. If she didn't get a yes from Kent, she would resign herself to going to prom with Cassidy . . . and maybe Bryn too since no one had asked her yet.

It hadn't made Abby feel any better to see promposals going off like fireworks all around the school. There had been several first thing this morning, and Olivia Pratt's locker had been flamboyantly decorated with balloons and streamers. There'd been at least five at lunch—including a giant cookie, a singing telegram, and a senior who wasn't a bad juggler. Even after school, there had been squeals and shrieks when Amanda Norton came rushing into the courtyard, urging everyone to go out and look at her car.

Assuming Amanda's car had been in a wreck, Abby and Bryn had run out to see. But, as it turned out, Jason had painted a promposal (hopefully with water-based paint) all over Amanda's pretty little car. Abby had laughed and Bryn had pasted a stiff-looking smile on her face. But as they walked back into the school, Abby could tell that Bryn was not pleased. Abby knew that Bryn had been secretly holding out for Jason to spring a promposal on her. And Abby felt pretty certain that Bryn would've accepted it. Oh, she might've acted like it was beneath her, but she would've said yes.

It seemed that Bryn and Cass and Abby were all in the same boat—dateless for prom. As Abby waited for her turn in the long jump, she fantasized a fabulous scene where her DG girlfriends performed a choreographed dance in the cafeteria. They would be joined by other kids until it turned into an amazing flash dance. Naturally, it would be filmed from a good vantage point. Then Abby's DG friends, wearing denim jackets over white T-shirts, would line up in
front of Kent and just as the song ended, they would whip open their jackets to reveal that their T-shirts each had a different letter on the front, spelling out P-R-O-M-?, and finally Abby would open her jacket and her T-shirt would say WITH ME.

Okay, maybe that sort of promposal was too over-the-top, not to mention difficult to pull off—who had time to practice a flash dance? But it was fun to daydream about. Abby realized she was on deck for long jump now. Time to focus on sprinting and positioning her steps—and stretching her arms and flying. Promposals would have to come later. If at all.

Abby ended her track practice back at the high jump pit. A lot of the other kids had already quit for the day, but Abby really wanted to get in a few last jumps while her legs were still warmed up. She'd done some jumps earlier but hadn't been happy with her height. She'd managed to raise her personal best jump two inches in the last couple of weeks, but for some reason she hadn't been able to clear it this afternoon. And the more she pushed herself at the end of practice, the worse it seemed to get. Finally, tired and discouraged, Abby collapsed onto the high jump pit pad and, lying flat on her back, simply looked up at the sky. A few fluffy white clouds were peacefully floating across the clear blue. So peaceful . . . so quiet.

Abby knew that she'd been overly focused on prom lately. And it was kind of weird since that really wasn't who she was. She could blame her obsession on Bryn's influence, but that wouldn't be fair. Abby was old enough to make her own choices. And, to be honest, Abby had enjoyed setting up the PBC blog. She liked being able to encourage students to economize by renting or borrowing formal wear. Already
the savings were starting to accumulate. It would be exciting to see how much they could donate to the Sofia fund.

Abby watched a horse-shaped cloud running overhead. Throwing its head and mane back, it raced with cloud-like freedom and abandon. The image of the fluffy white horse was invigorating and exhilarating. And suddenly Abby wanted to imitate it—to run free and wild. She got off the high jump pit and started out, jogging slowly at first, letting the muscles in her legs stretch a bit, and then she was running fast—all the way back to the locker room where she showered and dressed. She'd already texted Bryn to go home without her. Bryn's prom meeting would've ended nearly an hour ago. And then she'd texted her dad to pick her up on his way home from the college where he worked. But that meant that Abby had to wait until nearly six to go home.

As Abby emerged from the girls' locker room, she could hear quiet voices followed by some strains of laughter up toward the gym. Hopefully it wasn't another promposal. She wasn't sure if she could stomach that. But, she decided, if it was, she would be a good sport and be happy for whoever was involved. As she rounded the corner next to the gym, she heard the sound of music playing and suddenly a figure was rushing toward her, but it was too shadowy to see the face.

She wasn't sure whether to run or brace herself for impact, but her feet refused to move. In the same instant, the runner hit the floor, just like he was sliding into first base. He glided over the slick floor's surface, coming to a stop right in front of her. By now she knew it was Kent. He had a huge smile on his face and a gigantic pizza box in his hands.

“Special delivery for Miss Abby Morrison,” Kent said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. Someone turned the music off.

“What?” Abby stared down at him in wonder.

“Special delivery,” he said again, extending the box toward her. “For Miss Abby Morrison.”

“Uh—thank you,” she said cautiously.

He was awkwardly climbing to his feet, still holding the flat cardboard box in one hand. “Go ahead and open it,” he urged her.

She slowly opened the lid, almost as if she expected something to jump out at her. But there was a perfectly normal-looking pizza. Except that it was enormous and had a heart created from well-placed pepperoni slices. But it was the words written in red felt pen on the inside of the cardboard lid that got her full attention.

Dear Abby,

I know this is cheesy,

But please say you will

Be my date for prom.

Kent

Kent's eyebrows arched hopefully as he waved the aromatic pizza temptingly beneath her nose. How could she possibly resist this?

“Of course I will!” She hungrily snatched a big piece of pizza and grinned. “Thanks, by the way—I'm starving.”

They went outside, and while sitting on a bench in front of the athletic center, Abby and Kent and his camera and music crew proceeded to put a pretty good dent in the pizza.

“I really wanted to do something more exciting,” Kent confessed as they ate. “But I overheard Barrett Foster saying
he was going to ask you to prom at track practice. And I decided I needed to beat him to the punch.”

“Really?” Abby tipped her head to one side. “Barrett was going to ask me?”

Kent looked worried. “Would you have gone with him?”

She pursed her lips like she was uncertain. “Well, was his promposal coming with pizza too?”

“Would that have made a difference?” Kent frowned.

Abby chuckled. “No. I would've turned him down.”

“So you're glad I asked you?” Kent sounded unsure.

“I am glad,” she admitted. “But I had reached the place where I decided it didn't really matter if you asked me or not. I would be content to go to prom with the girls' group that Cassidy keeps saying she's putting together.”

Kent looked slightly hurt now. “You'd rather go with the girls than me?”

She laughed. “No, silly. More than anything I wanted to go with you. I just wanted you to
want
to go with me.”

He looked relieved. “I do.”

Abby stood when she saw her dad's car pulling up. “Mind if I take my dad a piece?” she asked.

Kent closed the lid on the box and handed what was left to her. “I got it for you, Abs. You can do what you like with it.”

“Thanks, Kent.” She resisted the urge to bend down and give him a kiss. Only on the cheek! But she knew that even a gesture that small might be a bit much for her overly protective dad. Instead, she said good-bye, then hurried to the car.

“Hanging with your guy friends?” Dad said as she slid into the passenger seat beside him.

“Yeah.” She held up the pizza box. “Want a piece?”

“Smells good, but I better wait until we get home. Not safe to eat and drive.”

“Suit yourself.” Abby took another piece. As she ate, she told Dad about Kent's unexpected promposal, complete with pizza. “I don't know if Kent knew that I was ravenous, but it was a pretty good idea.”

“So what if his promposal hadn't involved food?” Dad asked. “Would you have still said yes?”

“Oh, Dad.” She shook her head. Really, sometimes parents could be so thick. While she was eating pizza with one hand, she used her other hand to text Bryn the good news. By the time they got home, Bryn was calling and demanding to hear all the details of the promposal.

“I'm not really hungry for dinner,” she told her dad from the stairway while Bryn waited for her on the phone. “Besides, I have a ton of homework. Maybe you and Mom can just have a quiet dinner for two.”

Dad seemed to consider this. “Okay, I'll tell your mom.”

As Abby carried her pizza box upstairs, she told Bryn all about Kent's promposal. Naturally, she dragged it out some, probably making it seem better than it really was. But, hey, she'd been hungry. And Kent had delivered.

“I'm so depressed,” Bryn finally said.

“Why?” Abby took another bite of pizza, then realized she'd hit her limit, set it down, and closed the box.

“There are only two days until spring break—and I still don't have a date for prom.”

“Oh, yeah.” Abby sat down on her bed, realizing it was time for some compassion. “With Jason and Harris out of the running . . . where does that leave you?”

“I don't know.”

“You could always go with Cassidy's girls' group.”

Bryn let out a loud groan.

“Or ask someone yourself.” Abby confessed to how she'd been about to do the same thing. “I was giving myself until Friday—to get the track meet behind us—and then I was going to ask Kent.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And why not? Lots of girls are doing the asking. And, hey, if I'd done the promposal I was dreaming about, I might've won a bike.”

“Really?” Bryn sounded very interested now. “What kind of promposal did you have in mind?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Abby said quietly. She was sure Bryn would have no interest in hearing her silly ideas. What Bryn wanted was a date and some encouragement. So Abby spent the next ten minutes trying to cheer up her best friend. She even told her about the running-free cloud horse, hoping it would seem like something of an epiphany. But Bryn didn't seem to really get it. In the end, she sounded just as discouraged as at the beginning of the call.

“I'm sure you'll think of something,” Abby finally said. “I hate to go, but I've got a bunch of homework that's calling my name.”

“Yeah . . . me too . . . thanks for listening.”

As Abby hung up her phone, she felt sorry for Bryn. Sorry and frustrated. And it wasn't the first time. Why did Bryn always have such unrealistic expectations about almost everything? She'd get these crazy, grandiose dreams—that always needed perfect wardrobe and accessories—and it seemed like most of the time, Bryn was let down in the end. Abby thought by now Bryn would learn. It wasn't like she wanted
Bryn to give up all her dreams, but she did wish Bryn could find some kind of solid middle ground. Then again, maybe that wouldn't be Bryn—and Abby had to admit that Bryn often brought a little more sparkle and fun into their lives.

As Abby opened her math book, she wondered if there might be a way that the DG could help Bryn out. It was ironic that Bryn would even need the DG's help in getting a date for prom. But maybe she did.