Chapter Twenty
Catherin
The week before prom
“I can’t wait for Bryan to see me in my dress,” Jessa says, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder.
“I can’t wait to see you out of it,” Bryan says, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Jessa slaps his shoulder and stares up at him from beneath her fake lashes. She had extensions done the other day and tried to get me to go with her, but that’s money I don’t have to spend right now, and I didn’t think she did, either. When I asked her if she finally got a job, she just made a weird face and said her parents wanted to make sure her senior prom experience was the best.
“Cat,” someone calls from down the hall.
I spin, searching for whoever it is, and spot Owen rushing toward me, his expression frantic.
My stomach drops as I wonder what could possibly have gone wrong now. “See you later,” I call to my friends, who aren’t paying any attention to me anyway, and rush to meet Owen.
“Hey. What’s up? You look freaked.”
He nods and swallows hard. “So, remember when you told me to tell Riley about how we’re working on getting a new venue?”
“Yeah…”
“I didn’t.”
“What? Why not?”
He grabs my arm and pulls me into the nearest classroom. Two freshmen are in the back row, collecting their books. One look at me and Owen, and they scramble to get out of the room, their backpacks banging against the desks as they scurry past.
Owen runs a hand across the top of his head, mussing up his hair. “You got me all messed up by telling me to ask her to prom. I was so distracted with trying to figure out how to tell her about…you know…”
I lift an eyebrow. “Your feelings for her?”
“Whatever. I was going to tell her about the stuff your mom’s been working on after that, but she was avoiding me.” He scratches above his ear. “At least I thought she was, but turns out she’s been working in secret, getting another backup prom venue ready without us.”
“What?” I screech.
“I know. She’s been decorating the gym by herself, and it looks…awful.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth as a mixture of horror and the urge to laugh at the absurdity of this situation fight for dominance. But the dejection playing across Owen’s face and the thought of Riley working her butt off in secret keeps my laughter in check. “Look, I’m not going to say I told you so, but I did. And now you need to go fix this. Fast. Before Slater makes that announcement.”
“I know. But first I wanted to find out the latest. Have you heard anything final?”
I pull my phone out of my bag. “Let me call my mom. She was trying to wrap up the vineyard dispute last night. If not, she was going to call the Hamilton Art Museum and see if they would host us. She was there for cocktails last month and said the place is huge.”
My mom’s phone goes right to voicemail. I leave her a message and send her a text.
“Anything?” Owen asks.
“Not yet.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t tell Riley.”
“Wait…you still haven’t told her?”
His head drops.
“You were just in the gym with her. Why didn’t you tell her then?”
“I don’t know. I’m…we talked about a lot of stuff. I was trying to find the right place to slide it in.”
“And the moment she told you the gym was the new prom location wasn’t the right one?”
“Well no, I mean, yeah, but we need to stop Slater first. I was worried he was gonna announce it while I was standing there with her. We need to go talk to him now.”
“I’ll go with you, but you’re doing all the talking. This is on you for keeping the information from Riley. I’m not owning that.”
“That’s fair.” He yanks open the door, and we weave our way through the students in the hallway to the office, where Mrs. Whyte is clicking away on her keyboard with overly long fingernails. Each one is painted pure white with a tiny little jewel near the tip.
She glances up and pushes her glasses into her mess of dark curls. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, we’re here to see Principal Slater.”
She glances over her shoulder. “He’s just wrapping up with someone. Have a seat, and I’ll let him know you’re waiting.”
Owen drops into one of the hideous burnt orange chairs and rests his elbows on the skinny black armrests, his knee bouncing up and down. I remain standing, convinced some freshman has peed on those chairs at one time or another.
Slater’s office door opens, and a girl walks out, head bent, clutching a folder to her chest. Principal Slater waves two fingers at us, an indication that we’re next. Owen hoists himself up and follows me across the stained linoleum floor to the office.
Slater gestures toward the chairs across from his desk, and Owen and I take a seat.
“What can I help you two with?” he asks, chin resting on steepled fingers.
I glance at Owen, who looks like he’s about to puke, his knees bouncing up and down. Even though I said he had to do the talking, I’m not sure he’s capable of it. “Um, we just found out Riley’s been decorating the gym as our new prom location.”
His bushy eyebrows meet in the center of his forehead. “Yes, and aren’t you helping her?”
“She didn’t tell us anything,” Owen says, throwing his hands in the air.
I take over before he has a complete meltdown. “After the farm was bulldozed, Riley was so upset. She decided prom was off, and with everything that happened, we just…”
He eyes me with a healthy dose of disdain. “You just what?”
“We didn’t tell her we were working on something without her,” I whisper.
“And why not? She is in charge of the prom committee. I don’t understand what you two are up to, but I don’t like it.”
“No, no,” Owen says, his face redder than I’ve ever seen it. “It’s not like that at all. Riley worked so hard on this…but the last disaster was like the final straw. She just kinda gave up, and I can’t blame her. So we didn’t want to disappoint her again, and we thought—”
My phone pings loudly. I pull it from my bag, nearly dropping it in the process.
“It’s from my mom!” The widest of smiles splits my face. I turn the phone around so Owen can read the message.
I let out a squeal, and Owen jumps up and down before high-fiving me. He even tries to fist-bump our perplexed principal.
Mr. Slater leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Good news?”
“Very,” I say and show him the message.
He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, no doubt considering early retirement. Finally he leans forward and levels his gaze at Owen. “Would you like me to take care of informing Miss Hart?”
Owen clears his throat. “No. I, um, can do that.”
Slater rubs his upper lip, and I think I see a hint of a smile. “Okay, then. You two better get going so you don’t miss lunch period completely. I’ll hold off on making the announcement until after lunch to give you time to notify Miss Hart.”
“Thank you, sir,” I say, standing.
Head down, Owen follows me out. “I’m going to go find Riley.”
I pat his shoulder. “Good luck.”