Page 17 of Princess and Country

Before Carter could say something, I climbed the remaining stairs two by two. In my room, I picked a new T-shirt, a steel-blue one that I knew made my eyes look more vibrant—Mom had told me many times—and hurried to the bathroom. I washed my armpits and applied a fresh coat of deodorant, brushed my teeth, and put the clean tee on.

“You can do this, man. Don’t be a chicken. Go down there, ask her, and look confident. Be sure of yourself.”

I closed my eyes, exhaled all the air in my lungs, and whispered a hasty prayer she’d say yes and that my brother would forgive me.

I wasn’t asking Dahlia out—not yet, at least—just to prom. I’d use the friendship card if it came to it.

With steady steps and a straight back, I made it to the kitchen, doing my best to hide the cluster of mixed emotions rumbling inside me.

Dahlia sat at the counter, chopping vegetables for dinner, as Mom stood by the stove, stirring tomato sauce.

Carter was busy with math homework, sitting next to her.

And Dad was nowhere to be seen.

One less spectator to witness what could be an epic rejection.

I cleared my throat. Carter’s eyes lifted to meet mine. I offered him a tight-lipped smile, braced myself, and puffed my chest out.

“Hey, Dah. I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while now.” She glanced at me, her green eyes drawing me in. My heart almost tipped over in my chest. I could do this. “Would you go to prom with me?”

A guttural sound tumbled out of Carter’s mouth, and his eyes flared. Could he pop an eyeball?

His face turned a dark shade of red.

He dropped the pencil he was holding, and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

I swallowed hard.

Mom gasped as she turned on her heels to watch the scene.

The beating of my heart and my own gasps were all I could hear.

Dahlia raised her eyes. Our gazes collided. She parted her lips to say something, and a dark pink flush covered her cheeks. The throbbing pulse in her neck matched mine.

Her head turned. Her eyes found Carter’s.

They exchanged one of their silent stares that nobody understood but them.

I held my breath, each passing second bringing me closer to fainting from lack of oxygen to my brain.