Chapter Eighteen
terrifying as it sounds.
Everyone gathers in the gym after school on a Friday, armed with sleeping bags and their cutest pajamas to spend the night locked in a room that smells like feet. Which is exactly why I’m leaving as soon as I’m done helping Anna.
“Places, everyone!” I announce with a clap as Anna puts the finishing touches on her ensemble for the occasion—a silver sequined dress with matching crescent moon clips woven through her locs.
“Seriously?” she replies dryly.
“Just because this is a one-person performance doesn’t mean we can’t take it seriously.”
She fidgets with the star charm on her bracelet as she peeks out from our hiding place in the equipment closet to get a glimpse of the steadily growing crowd. “This isn’t a performance.”
“All promposals are performances,” I reply indignantly. “Or at least the good ones are.”
I sound like I drank the Cordero Prom-Craze Kool-Aid, but the point remains. If anyone deserves the picture-perfect promposal, it’s Anna, and I’m here to make sure that happens. It already took twenty minutes of pleading—and fifty dollars—to let us dip out of tech week rehearsal early so we could make it here in time to set things up, but Anna is well worth the emotional labor (and cash).
Even if I have no idea who she’s actually asking.
Anna’s been so tight-lipped about this new development in her love life, you’d think she was sworn to silence by the CIA. Still, helping her pull off her down-to-the-wire promposal has been a welcome distraction and a good way to free myself of the negative prom-related karma hanging over my head.
“She here yet?” I ask, peeking over her shoulder to scan the room despite not knowing who I’m looking for.
Anna slams the door shut like she just saw a ghost, leaning against it with an expression that screams pure terror. “Mmm-hmm.”
“You okay?”
Anna nods, biting her lip so roughly it creases the purple lipstick she spent ten minutes perfecting.
“You sure?” I reach out to rest a hand on her trembling shoulder. “Because you seem lik—”
“I’m asking Tessa,” she blurts out with so much force it makes the basketballs behind us wobble. “To prom. Right now.”
It takes my brain several beats to process what she just said, leaving me standing there open-mouthed. “Tessa?” I choke out, picking my jaw off the sticky floor. “As in Tessa Hernandez?”
Anna nods again, and I almost short-circuit from the effort of understanding how Anna, Tessa, and prom wound up in the same sentence.
“I know I should’ve told you when I first asked for your help, but I panicked. I thought it might make things weird, or you’d be pissed and wouldn’t want to talk to me again, and I realize how screwed up that is and I’m sorry,” she rattles out at top speed, careful not to step too close to me despite the cramped space we’re sharing.
Anger is the last thing on my mind, but I can’t blame her for not wanting to tell me. Especially after I spent almost a month sabotaging a slew of promposals meant for Tessa. I hadn’t planned on prepping for a real one. “Didn’t you two hate each other, like, five minutes ago?” I could’ve sworn I saw her scowl at Tessa in chem last week.
She shrugs, running her hands down her arms like she’s fighting off a chill. “We started talking again two months ago. Our parents made us go to this college networking thing. It was just a bunch of wannabe politicians handing out their business cards to anyone who’d give them the time of day. Unless we wanted to listen to someone give us their ten-step plan to eliminate world hunger, our only option was to talk to each other.”
Reconnecting while avoiding strangers—the world’s most relatable love story.
“It…didn’t really work out, at first. We went through too much shit for things to go back to normal overnight. I said some stuff I really regret over break, about how she can’t just waltz into my life again like nothing happened. And then you said something may have happened between her and Joaquin over break, and that drove me nuts, even when I knew it shouldn’t. But…she didn’t give up. Every night she’d text me, telling me she wanted me in her life, even if it was just as a friend. And eventually that turned into something more.”
Suddenly, Joaquin’s story about spring break with Tessa makes a whole lot more sense. Him finding her crying on the boardwalk. Anna’s subtle prying about their relationship, and her general irritation toward his promposal attempts. “Why didn’t you tell me before I agreed to help Joaquin ask her?” Knowing Tessa was spoken for would’ve saved us a whole lot of time, money, and heartbreak.
Anna is ashen, and I immediately regret not watching my tone. “Because I didn’t understand what was going on!” she replies, throwing her hands up in the air. “One second, I couldn’t stand her, and the next she was all I could think about. I told myself I wouldn’t get in deep if she didn’t feel the same way—not after what went down before—but things are different this time around. She can date now, for one, and her dad isn’t as much of a hard-ass as he used to be. But by the time we figured that out, you were getting ready to tell Joaquin how you felt, and I thought everything would just fix itself. We’d both end up with the right people.”
While I still have questions, my last—and only—conversation with Tessa cuts the line to the forefront of my mind. “She said she already has a date,” I say quickly. “She was at my last detention, and I tried to convince her to give Joaquin another shot, but she said she’d already found someone.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of Anna’s lips, the twinkle in her eyes giving her secret away.
“She was talking about you!” I whack her arm. She’s been Tessa’s prom date for days, and I had no idea. Either they’re phenomenal actresses, or I need to be a more attentive friend.
“She asked me. I said yes. She wanted to keep it low-key. She’s gotten enough proposals already anyway. But…” Anna trails off, a faraway look in her eyes and a smile playing at her lips. “We spent the past four years ignoring each other. We can’t make up for lost time, but we can make new memories while we can.”
I nod, weighing my next words carefully. “So…what happened between you two? Before high school, I mean?”
She sighs, her silver nails tugging at a loose piece of string at her hemline. “It’s a long story,” she replies, and I’m prepared to drop the topic when she continues. “We fell for each other before we even knew what it meant to love someone the way we did. And aside from her dad, we weren’t ready for it then. Her especially.” Anna’s smile blossoms as she tugs at the end of her star charm bracelet one more time. Suddenly, I make the connection. That was why Tessa’s seemed so familiar—they’re part of a matching set. “But I think we’re both ready now.”
A dozen emotions rush through me, each one punctuated by another dozen questions. I still want to know every detail of what led Anna and Tessa back to each other, but for now, I pull her into a hug. She’s stiff in my grip at first, arms locked at her sides for a few seconds before wrapping loosely around my middle.
“I’m really happy for you,” I whisper into her shoulder.
Her sniffles are muffled against the fabric of my sweater. “Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I reply when we pull apart. “I could still blow this whole thing up. I’m kind of a pro at the whole sabotaging promposals thing.”
She shoves my shoulder as we both break out into giggles, my body feeling lighter with every breath. It feels good to laugh about it, even if a part of me aches from the guilt.
But it sounds like I have one last shot at making sure a promposal for Tessa Hernandez doesn’t end in catastrophe.
“You ready for showtime?” I ask as I crack my knuckles and limber up like I would before any performance.
Anna inhales sharply, nodding before throwing open the storage closet door. “Let’s do this.”
Once Anna’s texted me that she’s reached her mark, I set things into motion. With the push of a button, the entire gym is flooded in darkness. Screams echo through the room at first, along with a few cheers at the prospect of privacy. We only have a small window before tonight’s chaperones—Coach Mills and Mr. Cline, who’s surprisingly alert tonight—spring into action to shut us down. I move as fast as I can in the darkness, hanging the centerpiece of Anna’s promposal on the hooks we’d spent the entire morning installing. With everything in place, I get out of the way and text Anna that she’s clear for takeoff.
“Hey, Tessa,” Anna calls out into the darkness.
Panic in the room mellows out. Now that we’re past the height of promposal season, the fatigue of constantly witnessing romantic spectacles has worn off enough for there to be genuine excitement buzzing through the room.
Once Anna has everyone’s full attention, I reach into my pocket for the remote that brings the neon sign hanging on the wall behind her to life, her declaration written out in cursive hot-pink lights.
It’s Always Been You
“You free next Friday?” Anna finishes once the sign has flickered to full brightness, bathing the gym in a soft rosy glow.
Tessa steps out of the crowd and into the light, wearing a light pink slip gown, her hair weaved into an intricate braid crown. The sound of her footsteps against the waxed floor echoes through the dead-silent room, and my heart pounds louder with every step she takes toward Anna. I can barely make out the eager faces surrounding them, but what matters is the way Tessa stares at Anna like she’s the only girl in the world.
“I think I might be free that day.”
And Anna, defying everything I’ve known about her for the past four years, beams so wide she could light up the sky with her smile.
The entire auditorium erupts into cheers that could be heard in Antarctica as the overhead lights flip back on, Coach Mills already barking at everyone to control themselves. In the midst of the chaos, Tessa pulls Anna in for a sweeping kiss. To avoid getting caught red-handed near the light switch, I rush into the crowd for cover, clapping and shouting until my throat starts to protest. I jump onto the balls of my feet to get a better view of them, accidentally stepping on the foot of the person beside me.
“Sorry, I—” My apology cuts short when I realize I’ve locked eyes with Joaquin, skin damp like he just finished a workout. He must’ve just come from baseball practice. “H-hi.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen him up close since senior skip day. I’d run away if I wasn’t stuck in the middle of a crowd. I half expect him to do the honors of leaving, but he stays, as rooted in place as I am, neither of us finding the courage to look at each other directly.
“Hey,” he replies quietly, glancing over his shoulder at where Danny is loudly brainstorming what Tessa and Anna’s couple name will be. Tessanna seems to be the front runner.
“I didn’t know they were together. I swear,” I say without thinking. Very smooth first thing to say post-argument. I’m pretty sure no one knew they were together, but I can’t have him thinking he and Tessa couldn’t get their happy ending because I was trying to protect someone else’s. Things fell apart because I wasn’t honest with him, but this isn’t something I ever would’ve hidden from him.
“I don’t think anyone knew,” he says with a shrug before turning back to look at them. “Makes sense, though. They were best friends.”
Despite my best efforts to stay in the moment, my mind starts to scour my recent memories for signs I could’ve missed, anything that could’ve explained how I didn’t see this coming. But maybe that’s the point. Love is unexpected. And I know as well as anyone, that falling for your best friend—even an old one—is easy.
When I turn back to Joaquin, he’s been whisked away by his friends. Gone before I could even wish him luck on the championship game tomorrow. Watching him disappear into the crowd hurts more than not seeing him at all. But watching Anna and Tessa hold one another in the soft pink glow, Tessa cradling Anna’s jaw like she’s the most precious thing on this earth, it’s impossible not to believe in second chances.