It turns out being friends with Webster is not like riding a bike. Don’t get me wrong—he’s friend-ly. We are both so freaking neighborly and amicable over the next few days. Which of course translates to totally stiff and overly polite conversations all through Life Skills.
I just wanted to slow things down, not bring them to a screeching halt. But now he’s not driving me to school anymore, and he hasn’t asked me to hang out after school, either, and it doesn’t take long for other people to pick up on the weirdness between us. For Anna Simmons to see an opening.
Anna has been glancing in our direction since the start of class, trying to get Webster’s attention. He’s either oblivious or ignoring her, so the first chance she gets, she comes over, clutching her yearbook.
“Hey, Web. Will you sign for me?” She holds the book out with this arch in her brow, like it was expected he’d sign anyway. Like she expects him to write something flirty and adorable.
He scrubs his eyebrow with the heel of his palm, then smiles and reaches for the book. “Yeah, of course.”
He scribbles out a quick note and tries to pass the book back. But Anna pushes it toward me next. “I’m trying to get everyone in our class. Do you mind, Aubrey?”
I manage a flimsy smile and take the book. The cover pages are already mostly full—I can’t find Webster’s note, and I can’t sit here reading all of them right in front of Anna and Webster.
My pen hovers over a blank space near the bottom. I can’t think of anything original to say. So I default to: You’re such a sweet girl, hope we stay in touch! Which is pretty much exactly why I hate signing yearbooks. They’re filled with these kinds of clichés. Keep in touch! Don’t ever change! Friends forever!!!
Because when you’ve never gone more than a summer without seeing someone, forever doesn’t feel so long.
I pass the yearbook back, and Webster’s gaze flickers to me for just a moment before shifting back to Anna. They talk about the all-night party planned for seniors in a couple weeks, and since I’m not included in the conversation, I fold my arms on top of the table and put my head down, doing my best to ignore them.
Which works, until Anna corners me after class, just as I’m reaching my locker.
“Hey, Aubrey.” She leans against Webster’s locker—he stopped using it again.
I focus on my combination. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I was wondering...did Webster ask you to prom?”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. He did. But we’re actually not going together.”
Anna tilts her head. “Oh, okay. Soo, does that mean you guys aren’t dating anymore?”
My hand tightens on the lock and I yank the door open. “We’re just friends,” I say to the inside of my locker.
“Got it.” She hesitates, exhales a nervous laugh. “So you’d be cool with me asking him, then?”
My throat is dry. I find my water bottle in my bag and take a sip, then choke on it and start coughing. I look for somewhere to set my bottle down but the lid is off and the only flat surface around is the floor, so I just keep holding it. Anna stands there wincing while I try to breathe like a normal person.
“Sorry. Wrong pipe,” I finally say. I clear my throat and screw the cap back on. “Anyway. Yes. Of course it’s okay.”
“You’re sure?” Her eyes narrow. She lightly touches my arm with cool fingers. “Because I don’t want to go for it if it’s going to cause any problems.”
I smooth my lips together. What does she want, a written fucking contract spelling out how cool with it I am? “Yeah, you’re totally free to ask him. I mean, I appreciate you checking in and everything, but...you don’t really need my permission to talk to Webster.”
“Okay.” She smiles. “Thanks, Aubrey.”
She walks away and I turn back to my locker. Realize I’m holding the door open with my foot. I step back and slam it closed.
“What are you doing?”
I look over my shoulder. Veronica is watching from her locker across the hall. “Nothing.”
We fall into step and head toward the cafeteria. She waits to resume her train of thought until we make it to our table, where Reese is already seated.
“You could have played that so much better.”
“Played what better?” Reese asks.
Veronica raises an eyebrow at me, and I sigh before launching into an explanation. “Anna Simmons asked me if it was cool if she asked Webster to prom, so I told her to go for it.”
Reese stares blankly at me, her fork hovering a few inches off her plate. “You didn’t.”
“She did,” Veronica says as she bites into her sandwich.
“Why would you do that? Wait—please tell me you haven’t reverted back to using Bayes’ rule to orchestrate your love life.”
Veronica scrunches her forehead and turns to me. “What?”
I side-eye her and shake my head as I turn back to Reese. “No, it’s not—look, I already told Webster I wouldn’t go with him. And he’s barely spoken to me since then. So. If he wants to go with Anna instead...that’s his prerogative.” And frankly, he’d probably have more fun with someone else anyway.
“But...it’s prom!” Reese says. “You have to go!”
“I never said I wasn’t going,” I tell her, surprising even myself. I’m actually not sure when I made this decision, or why it even feels so important to me, but I’m not okay with sitting at home with my mother while everyone else is at prom. I’m going. By myself... Or maybe with Veronica, if I can convince her to be my date.
Reese claps her hands, and before she can even string a sentence together, I’m out of my seat.
“Be right back.”
I cut through the caf to the table student council has set up outside and buy two tickets. When I sit down next to Veronica again a few minutes later, I slide one of the tickets over to her.
She eyes the piece of paper, frozen with a mouthful of her sandwich tucked into her cheek. Finally she blinks, chews. She swallows and cuts her gaze up to me.
“No.”
“Please? We don’t have to stay the whole time. Just like, a couple dances.”
Across the table, Reese lets go of her fork and spreads her fingers wide. She looks dangerously close to doing jazz hands. “You’re seriously coming?”
“Yep.” If I was having any lingering doubts about prom, picturing myself watching GBBO reruns while Webster dances with Anna pretty much sealed the deal. “I’m not going to miss out on anything I’m even remotely interested in because of Webster Casey. I spent a year avoiding him, and I’m not doing it for another second.”
“Yes!” Reese sucks in a huge breath, lets it out with a squeal. We both look at Veronica.
“This is peer pressure,” she says.
“Is that a yes?”
She groans and tilts her head. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“I’ve got you covered,” Reese says. “Seriously, between me and my sisters we have like, a dozen dresses you can choose from.”
Veronica picks at the crust of her sandwich. “It’d be a while before I could pay you back for the ticket.”
“No way. You’re doing me a favor, and I totally sprang this on you, so the ticket’s on me.”
She wrinkles her nose, but a resigned smile takes over. “Okay. I’m in.”
This earns another excited screech from Reese. I grin and tuck my own ticket away. For the rest of lunch we talk logistics, deciding Veronica will meet at my house (despite my warnings that my mother will make us pose for no less than fifty pictures), and that we’ll both be putting minimum effort into hair and makeup. Reese arranges for Veronica to come over and pick out a dress after school, and then tries to convince us to join their limo group since the spots reserved for me and Webster are now up for grabs. But since I’m not sure Veronica and I will want to stay for as long as Reese’s group, I tell her Webster can take the spots.
We part ways with Veronica as we exit the cafeteria, and it isn’t until then that Reese’s giddiness fades and she says, “I really am glad you decided to come.”
“Me too. I really think there’s a solid seventy-five percent chance I’ll have a good time.”
She tilts her head and gives me a goofy grin. “Eighty percent, easy.” She softens and adds, “Seriously though, I know you’re still hurting after what happened with Webster—”
“I’m over it.”
Reese just stares at me. “Oh, okay.”
“I am. Mostly. Besides, I should’ve seen it coming. Remember when I said it wasn’t a family I should get involved with?”
“And yet, you got so very involved...” She curls her lips in and dips her chin.
“Ha ha.” I grip the strap of my backpack and say, “The point is...I’ve worked too hard to let this drama be the only thing I remember about my senior year.”
I’m not sure anymore if I’m better off alone, but I do know I’m not defined by who I’m dating. And I don’t need a date-date to have fun at prom. Veronica and I are going to prove it.
Reese nods. “You’re right. Which is why I’m gonna go ahead and say it—ninety-five percent chance of fun on prom night.”
“Gotta love your optimism.”
I manage to stay excited about our new plan until the next morning, when I walk past Anna and Webster talking outside our Life Skills class. I pretend to be searching for something in my bag as I pass them, but once I’m in my seat, I hunker over my notebook and peek out the door. I slide my chair all the way to the end of our counter so Webster’s in my line of sight.
Anna tosses her hair and rests her hand on Web’s arm. She says something that makes him scratch his neck and put on an apologetic face. But Anna just shrugs her shoulders and whatever she says next makes Webster’s gaze cut to me. His eyebrows knit together, and I’m frozen in this moment that drags out forever, unable to look away from the question in Webster’s eyes—until his jaw twitches and he turns his attention back to Anna.
Webster takes his seat right as the bell is ringing. He says nothing to me, doesn’t even look at me again for the rest of class. And when the period is over, he and Anna walk out together.