Now that Spencer King is dating freshman Isobel Peters (Seriously. A freshman. Someone must be reaching for low-hanging fruit.), it appears that this year there won’t be one power couple for prom—unless Patrick Bradford and his new lady love, Steffani Larson, win over the student body.
Hey, it could happen. Considering the sudden geeky addition to Spencer’s life . . . crazier things have happened.
—from “Predicting Prom”
by Lisa Anne Montgomery
Published by The Smithsonian
“Are you out of your freaking mind? You don’t even like Chelsea Halloway!”
Mackenzie glanced up at me sheepishly from her bedroom floor. “Wow, Corey. Way to give me a heads-up. You know there is this thing called knocking. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“There are also these places called mental institutions. Girls who create posters for their boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends should probably live there.”
She tried to wipe her hands off on her jeans, but succeeded only in sending glitter flying everywhere. “It’s not that weird.”
“Chelsea Halloway for Prom Queen,” I read aloud. “Seriously, Mackenzie? You can’t post these up at school.”
Mackenzie shook her head. “No way. I’ve put too much time and effort and . . . glitter into these things not to use them. And I have a very small window of opportunity here. Just because I got Chelsea’s name on the prom ballot doesn’t mean anyone will actually vote for her.”
Careful to avoid any airborne sparkles, I sat cross-legged and checked out her work. The signs looked like they had been created by a well-intentioned preschooler, but I decided to keep that thought to myself.
“Want to tell me why you’re campaigning for a girl who single-handedly made your life a living hell for three years?”
Mackenzie rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating. Chelsea didn’t even know I existed for most of that time. And now that she’s going to a different high school and has a new boyfriend and y’know—”
“Isn’t trying to convince Logan to dump you?” I suggested.
Mackenzie winced. “Right. Well, now that she’s not doing that anymore, we’re actually almost . . . friends.”
“Bullshit.” I crossed my arms and waited for the truth to come bubbling out of her. Mackenzie has never been particularly good at keeping her own secrets, especially around me.
“Okay, ‘friends’ might be overstating it a little. We aren’t enemies, though.”
“And for that she gets campaign posters?” I tapped one of the glittery signs for emphasis. “I don’t think so.”
“Who else do you think is a contender for the crown?” Mackenzie demanded. “If Fake or Bake wins, one of them will only become more obnoxious—if that’s even possible. And if by some fluke, I get a pity nomination because of the whole YouTube thing . . . that’s even worse!”
“I don’t know why you’re so against the idea,” I said honestly. “I think you’d make a great monarch. Long live, Mackenzie.” I pretended to raise a goblet of wine. “Queen of the Geeks!”
Mackenzie laughed. “Thanks, but no thanks. Did you know there is a special dance for the king and queen? Seriously. They rule the dance floor while everyone else gawks at them. That’s way too much pressure for me. I’d much rather dance with Logan when nobody is paying any attention to my moves.”
I could understand that. If I thought I could avoid all the openmouthed stares by creating a few posters, I’d be coated from head to toe in glitter too. Although I suspected that the decoration on my posters wouldn’t look disturbingly like a cross between an octopus and a unicorn.
I picked up a glue bottle to test that theory.
“Do you, uh . . . ever wish you weren’t dating Logan?” I asked nonchalantly, as if that were a perfectly normal question. “If the two of you weren’t a couple, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with all of this.” My gesture nearly splattered glue everywhere.
“Sure.”
I jerked my head up as I searched her familiar brown eyes for any sign that she was messing with me.
“Seriously?”
Mackenzie laughed. “Of course, I do! Every time someone gives me a slow once-over and then shakes their head because they still can’t figure out what Logan could possibly see in me . . . that hurts. And yeah, my life would be a whole lot simpler without him. I’d have more time for my homework, that’s for sure.” She glanced ruefully at a stack of textbooks that were piled precariously on top of her desk. “It would be easier to catch up with Jane. Although now that she’s busy running The Wordsmith and dating Scott, that might be wishful thinking.”
“So then why don’t you do it?” I sprinkled some pink glitter onto the petals of the flower I had outlined in glue. It wasn’t half bad.
Mackenzie looked at me like I’d lost my freaking mind. “Off the top of my head? Because he makes me laugh and he doesn’t care that I’m America’s Most Awkward Girl. He wants to be with me, even when I make a complete idiot out of myself in front of his ex-girlfriend . . . even when I’m a total wreck after seeing my dad. And I don’t want to change him either. Not his dyslexia, or his popularity, or even his past with Chelsea freaking Halloway.” She glanced away from the rose taking shape on my poster and then glared at what I assumed was a horribly misshapen heart on hers. “Don’t you feel that way about Tim?”
“Tim never dated Chelsea freaking Halloway,” I said evasively. “I’m pretty sure he’d have mentioned her by now if he did.”
Mackenzie laughed. “Probably. Although the two of them would have the most insanely beautiful children the world has ever seen.”
I had no trouble picturing a little toddler with Chelsea’s huge blue eyes and Tim’s thick jet-black hair. Fast forward a few years and the kid would probably be ruling the preschool through sheer force of will—when not crawling the red carpet, of course.
“Okay, so I will never suggest using her as a surrogate,” I said, pretending to really have to think it through. “I can live with that.”
Mackenzie nodded. “The human race thanks you. But seriously . . . how are things with Tim?”
I began creating a long stem for the rose and then added thorns. Lots and lots of thorns. “In the wise words of Facebook: It’s complicated.”
“Yeah? Well, why don’t you talk and we’ll try to uncomplicate it.”
That was the reason I had driven to Mackenzie’s house, but now I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak. Hanging out with one of my best friends was comforting. Just the two of us.
It was so easy to pretend that nothing had changed.
“I don’t know, Mackenzie!” The words tumbled out in a rush. “I have no freaking clue, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Tim just does things and then he expects me to get onboard with them. I kept telling myself the problem was that we were long-distance or that we could never get alone time together . . . but I think it’s me. Or maybe it’s him. I don’t know anymore.”
“Wow,” Mackenzie said. “Okay. Here’s a crazy idea: Have you tried talking to him about this?”
I squirted way too much glue onto one of the posters, leaving a goopy mess that rivaled Mackenzie’s ugliest attempts at flowers. “When exactly do you think I should bring it up?” I growled sarcastically. “Right after he said he wanted to uproot the band to Portland for me? Or maybe in the principal’s office when he negotiated our prom experience in front of my parents. I know, I should totally bring all of this up at prom. Nothing like getting into a huge fight in front of the entire school.”
“Are you so sure you’d get into a huge fight?” Mackenzie asked tentatively. “He loves you, Corey. There’s got to be a way to work this out.”
“Do you know how to call off the paparazzi constantly hounding us? Because if you do, I’m all ears.”
Mackenzie grabbed my hand, preventing me from sprinkling blue glitter on the blob and forcing me to meet her eyes. I instantly wished I hadn’t glanced up, because the concern in them was almost too much for me.
“If you can’t handle the rock star lifestyle, there is no shame in that,” Mackenzie said quietly. “Not everyone is cut out for a life in the spotlight. Trust me, I get it. Just like not everyone can handle a relationship with someone in the military. It doesn’t mean you don’t love him.”
“I thought love was supposed to triumph over everything.”
Mackenzie nodded, but her smile twisted with sympathy at the bitter words. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the timing can’t suck.”
I rubbed my face absentmindedly with my hand, realizing too late that I’d just coated myself in glitter. “God, I can’t believe I’m acting like this! Remember when we mocked kids who thought they met the love of their life in high school? When exactly did I become one of those idiots?”
Mackenzie laughed. “Hey, right there with you. Sometimes I still glance at Logan and think, Um . . . sorry. When exactly did he fall for me? Can someone explain how that happened?” She gestured at the posters sprawled out at our feet. “I’m making prom posters for Chelsea Halloway! I think it’s safe to say that nothing has turned out the way I expected.”
“You really think you’ll be together with Logan in college?” I felt like a jerk for even asking the question, for putting voice to a fear that probably crept in whenever she poured over college brochures.
She shrugged. “I hope so. But even if we’re not . . . it won’t change the way I feel about him right now. That’s enough for me.”
I laughed hoarsely. “Okay, who are you and what have you done to my geeky best friend?”
Mackenzie grinned, dipped her finger in a thick puddle of glue, and swiped the tip of her nose with it. “How’s that? Recognize me now?”
“Nope, but I think you’re getting closer.”
She nodded and released red glitter, except instead of coating the tip of her nose, she accidentally breathed some of it in. “Oh crap. Bad life decision. Very bad life decision!” Mackenzie managed to say as her nostrils flared wildly. “You don’t have to laugh quite that hard at me, you jerk!”
But I did.
“I love you, Mackenzie.”
She looked like an elementary school kid who had gotten a bit overenthusiastic with a Valentine’s Day project, but she accepted my statement with a nod.
“I love you too. Always have, always will. Now, will you please help me finish these stupid posters?”
Yeah, that I could handle.