Prom Date (13 page)

As Devon grabbed up her coat and dashed back to the
bathroom where she'd stashed her school clothes, she felt giddy. Had she really just done that? Asked nerdy Leonard Mansfield to prom? What would her friends say when they heard?

She laughed. Really, did she care?

I
t was the Monday of the week before spring break, less than two weeks to prom, and Emma was feeling uneasy. Oh, she wanted to act nonchalant. She admired how Cassidy acted like she could take it or leave it when it came to receiving a promposal. Just this morning, Cassidy had been seriously talking about going to prom with a group of girls. And Emma had tried to appear interested. She wished she was interested. But what Emma really wanted was for Isaac to surprise her with a fabulous promposal. Really, was that too much to ask?

She couldn't believe it when Isaac had shown her the hilarious video he'd taken of Devon playing Juliet and asking Leonard to prom. And it wasn't just Devon's unexpected promposal that stunned Emma. It was the fact that Isaac had the gall to show her someone else's promposal without even considering how that made her feel.
What about
your
promposal?
she wanted to demand. Fortunately she just man
aged to laugh, complimenting him on his good camera work. “Devon might've just won herself a bike,” she'd told Isaac. And at the rate the other promposals were
not
coming in, Devon really might win.

Bryn complained about it at lunch that day. “What if Devon and Leonard are the only couple at prom?”

“Then we'll be crowned King and Queen,” Devon teased. “And I will win the bike.”

“And the prom will make no money,” Abby pointed out. “And FYI, Devon, Northwood doesn't have prom king. Just prom queen.”

“Let's put a lid on it,” Emma said quietly. “Here comes Felicia.” She waved to Felicia as she quickly relayed the latest. “She's feeling pretty bad about Sofia right now. The chemo kicked in and Sofia's hair started falling out, so they shaved her head this weekend. Felicia showed me a photo and Sofia was smiling brightly, but it was still sad.”

The girls all greeted Felicia and, to Emma's relief, kept the prom talk upbeat and positive. When Bryn inquired about Sofia, Felicia produced her phone and showed them the photo. “She's really got a good attitude,” Felicia told them. “I even offered to shave my head in solidarity, but she wouldn't let me. She said I needed my hair to go to prom.” Felicia frowned as she slipped her phone back into her bag. “Not that I'm holding my breath.”

Emma noticed Isaac and Marcus coming their way. Occasionally some guys would join them at their table, but not so much since the prom wars had begun. Emma repressed the urge to sneer at Isaac. For all she knew he could be here for a reason—and he was pulling something from his pocket. Was he about to ask her to prom?

To her dismay it was only his phone, which he was aiming at Marcus. She turned to look at Marcus, wondering if he was about to do a promposal. But he simply stood in front of their table with a goofy grin. He looked handsome in a cowboy sort of way with his plaid western shirt, jeans, and harness boots.

“Felicia,” he said in a rather loud voice. “Come here!”

Felicia looked embarrassed, but stood. “What?”

“Go ahead.” Bryn gave Felicia a gentle shove toward Marcus.

“What's going—”

Just then Marcus reached up to his collar. He ripped his shirt open, the snaps releasing to show his bare chest. Inked carefully and rather artistically there were three words:

Felicia

Marcus

Prom?

Felicia squealed as she jumped up and down. “Yes, yes!” she cried. Then she hugged Marcus, and Emma could see tears in her eyes.

“Way to go, dude!” Devon was on her feet, slapping Marcus on the back as he snapped up his shirt. “It's nice to see that at least one of the guys isn't a coward.”

Felicia looked at Isaac. “Did you get it? Did you record it?”

He nodded as he studied his phone. “Yep. It's all here.” He looked at Marcus. “I just sent it to your phone.” He nodded to Felicia. “And yours too.”

“You can enter the contest,” Felicia told Marcus.

“Yeah, but it probably won't beat Devon's.” Marcus tipped his head to Devon. “Nicely done, Devon.”

“Thanks.” She grinned. “I figured someone needed to get the ball rolling. And hey, if I win that bike, you won't hear me complaining.”

Emma tried not to look directly at Isaac as the group continued talking and joking about promposals, but all she could think of was that it was hopeless to keep pining away for Isaac. This guy had absolutely no interest in going to prom with her. She'd already hinted to him several times. She'd even complained to him at youth group. And even though he'd acted understanding, like he was going to do something, he had done nothing. Well, she decided, if Isaac didn't want to go to prom with her, maybe it was time to start looking around for someone else. Because suddenly, and inexplicably, Emma really wanted to go to prom. And, as Grandma would say, Isaac was not the only fish in the sea.

After the guys went on their way, the girls congratulated Felicia on her invitation to prom and rewatched the video that Isaac had sent to her phone. Emma was happy for her friend. If anyone needed a promposal today, it was Felicia. What great timing.

“I went ahead and got my dress yesterday,” Bryn told them.

“Even though no one's asked you yet?” Abby shook her head.

“I had to get it in order to have time for alterations.” Bryn looked at Abby. “You'll be pleased to know that it was on sale and I'll donate the savings to your PBC fund.”

“But how can you be so certain you're going to prom?” Emma demanded. “Or are you like Cass—planning to go in a girls' group?”

Bryn wrinkled her nose. “I do not plan to go in a girls' group.”

“Bryn could get Jason to ask her,” Devon told them. “All she has to do is give him the time of day.”

Bryn seemed to consider this. “He wouldn't be my first choice, but hey, he might do in a pinch.”

“You'd go with someone you don't even like?” Emma asked.

Bryn seemed to consider this. “Well, to be honest, I'd rather not.”

“What about Harris?” Emma suggested—and then suddenly wished that she hadn't, since she was pretty good friends with Harris. Maybe he'd be a good option if Isaac remained stubborn.

Bryn's eyes lit up. “Yeah . . . I've actually been thinking about that. I wouldn't mind going with Harris.”

“Want me to drop some hints his way?” Devon offered. “I have him in my economics class.”

Bryn nodded firmly. “Yes,” she agreed. “That'd be great, Devon. Thanks.”

“Or you could just invite him,” Cassidy suggested.

Suddenly the girls were all talking about promposals that they thought would be fun. “What about writing it in lipstick on his windshield?” Devon tossed out.

“Or put it out on the school marquee,” Abby said. “Unless that's not allowed.”

“You could paint it on his locker,” Emma suggested. She'd actually considered doing that to Isaac but couldn't work up the nerve. What if he said no?

“Hey, look!” Cassidy pointed over to a table where a bunch of guys were congregated. They all turned to see Mazie Tucker
carrying a platter of what looked like cupcakes toward the guys.

“Let's go watch this.” Devon was already up. And the rest of the DG followed, clustering around Mazie and her friend who was getting the unfolding event on camera. Emma peered over Cassidy's shoulder to see what the red letters on the white cupcakes spelled out.

Harris?

Prom?

With me?

Mazie's cheeks flushed pink as she waited quietly for Harris to respond to her sweet invitation. Emma knew that Mazie was very shy and to do this in front of everyone—risking public rejection—was really, really brave. And Emma was silently cheering for her.

“Say yes!” Devon urged him.

“Yeah, man,” a guy said. “Those cupcakes look yummy.”

Harris grinned at Mazie. “Sure, I'd like to go to prom with you.”

With a relieved smile, Mazie handed over the cupcakes. “They're red velvet.”

“Seriously?” Harris looked surprised. “I
love
red velvet.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Yeah, that's what I heard.” And now she grabbed the arm of her camera friend and hurried away as the guys dove for the cupcakes.

“Well, I don't think that's going to beat my promposal,” Devon said as they walked back to their table. “But I gotta admit it was pretty cool.”

“At least people are starting to get on board,” Abby said.

“With no time to waste,” Bryn said in a dejected tone.

“I guess I don't need to drop hints with Harris now,” Devon said.

Bryn just frowned.

“Hey, you should do what I did.” Devon poked Bryn's shoulder. “Ask a nice, nerdy guy.” She laughed. “Maybe I should create a new holiday:
Ask
a nerd to prom day
.”

Emma considered this as she walked to class. Maybe she needed to lower her expectations about prom. Just because she liked Isaac didn't mean that she had to go to prom with him. If Devon was okay going with someone like Leonard—who was actually a really nice guy—maybe Emma needed to expand her own search. Not that she was searching exactly.

By the end of the day, Emma had made a decision. She would quit thinking about a prom date. Like Cassidy, she would simply be content with the idea of going to prom with a group of girls. And, really, wouldn't that be fun? Since she'd promised to help her grandma with a garage sale during spring break, she might even make enough money to purchase her own prom ticket. What was wrong with being independent—and hanging with girlfriends—at an event like prom? Cassidy was right—they didn't have to be on the arm of a guy to have a good time. Perhaps they'd have an even better time by not being with a guy.

From now on, Emma was determined to focus all her prom energy on the decorations. And since she was chairing the decorations committee, she would have more than enough to keep her busy for the next couple of weeks.

Emma headed back to the art department, where she'd asked the committee to meet with her after school to help
with decorations. Today was their first official meeting and she knew they had no time to waste. Last weekend she'd started a list of easy and inexpensive ideas that she felt would lend themselves to the red carpet theme. She'd even made some sketches.

“Thanks for coming,” she told everyone as she stood in front of the small group of students. “As you know, our theme is red carpet and our budget is limited.” She held up a large sketch. “The entrance to prom will be set up like this.” She explained how a rental company had offered them a discount on the red runner and brass poles to cordon it along the sides. “We'll make glittery gold stars to lay on the red carpet, and we'll use lots of white lights and metallic-toned balloons to make it feel glitzy.” She held up another sketch. “We'll create an eight-foot-tall star with more silver and gold balloons and light strings. It will provide the background for photos.”

As she continued sharing her ideas with the committee, she was surprised at how enjoyable it felt to be up front and calling the shots—especially in the art arena, a place she felt comfortable. And everyone seemed supportive and agreeable as she assigned various tasks.

“As you guys can see, I'm trying to keep it simple. The main thing is to make it look like a fun and exciting gala without spending too much money, because everything we save goes to help Sofia Ruez.” She paused to catch her breath. “But I don't want it to feel cheesy or cheap.” Then she told them a little bit about how it felt to be at the real red carpet. By the time they finished the meeting, she knew she had a good team behind her. They could do this!

Still feeling like it had been a successful meeting, Emma took her time to bundle up her sketches and even wrote down
a few more notes from some of the ideas that the committee had tossed out. She packed everything into her oversized bag and was just turning off the lights to the art room when she heard the sound of footsteps coming through the breezeway.

To her surprise, it was Isaac—and he still had on his lacrosse uniform. She knew they'd had a match after school. Apparently it was over now. But she couldn't read the expression on his face as he approached her.

“Hey, Isaac.” She closed the door behind her.

“Hey.” He had what looked like a cup of coffee in his hand as he planted himself in front of her. But there was a strange look in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No.”

“How was your lacrosse match?”

“We won.”

“Good.” She gave him a stiff smile. “I just finished a decorations meeting . . . for prom.” She wished she'd left off that last phrase.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh.” She just nodded, attempting to step past him.

“Wait.” He held the cup of coffee out toward her.

“Huh?”

“This is for you.”

“For me?” She felt puzzled as she took the cup from him. “Why?”

“Don't you still like mocha with whipped cream?”

“Yeah, sure. But why are—”

He reached over and gently turned the cup around in her hand. On the side of the white paper cup was the word
P
ROM
?

She blinked then looked again. “Are you sure this cup is for me?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I mean, are you sure this cup is from you? To me?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, Emma. I'm asking you to prom, and I won't blame you for pouring that over my head.”

She looked down at the cup. “And waste a perfectly good mocha?”

He chuckled. “So, will you go?”

She waited for a few seconds, acting like she was unsure, then broke into a big grin. “Sure, Isaac, I'd love to. Thanks.”

He gave her a relieved smile. “Cool.”

“So how did you know I was down here in the art room?” she asked as they walked together.