Page 7 of The Year I was Almost Prom Queen

“You look great,” Stephanie says. “Just ignore him.”

She has to pull me out of the way as a boy who was walking near us drops to his knees. He holds out a bouquet of flowers to a girl walking down the hall.

“Bailee, will you go to prom with me?”

The cute brunette jumps up and down, while several of her friends whip out their phones to capture the moment. “Yes! Yes!” She glows with excitement.

We squeeze past the crowd and hurry down the hall. “I can’t believe the prom-posals are starting already,” I say, glancing back. There’s an anxious, queasy feeling in my gut.

“Seriously, Steph, what am I going to do about a date? Mrs. Graidy made it very clear that the nominees have to be at the prom and they have to have dates.”

“Someone will ask you,” Stephanie says. “If all else fails, I bet your dad could get one of his baseball players to take you.”

I shake my head vigorously. “I’m not desperate enough to ask my daddy to find me a date. That would be embarrassing! He’d probably have to bribe some poor kid too. Then Brody would be right.” I groan. “I hate this.”

Stephanie frowns. “I’m sorry, Em.” She squeezes my arm. “I gotta head, but I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

She waves and I step into the classroom. I fall into my seat and open a book. A boy I recognize, but don’t really know, sits right in front of me and turns around. I look up when he says my name.

“I would totally have taken you to prom, but I already have a date.”

I nod, though I’m very confused. Why do I care if this rando already has a date?

“Good luck,” he says. “I’m sure someone will ask you soon.”

***

“He apologized for not taking you to prom?” Stephanie asks. Her eyebrows pull together as she waits for my answer.

I nod. “Weird, right?”

I rip off a small piece of roll and pop it in my mouth. “And then almost an identical thing happened in second period.Another guy I barely know said he would have taken me too, but he already had a date. What is with all this sympathy?” I ask. “Does the whole school know I don’t have a date yet? Do I have a ‘desperate for prom date’ sticker on my back or something?”

“Boys are weird.”

I nod.

We hear a scream erupt from the next table over. A girl pulls a long piece of paper out from under her lunch tray. It has the wordprom?written in messy handwriting. She looks up at her boyfriend, who’s grinning anxiously beside her.

“Yes!” she says, kissing him with force. Everyone at their table cheers.

“What is it with these people?” Stephanie says, tossing her roll back onto her tray. “Wasn’t prom already cheesy enough? Why’d they have to go and pile even more cheddar on top?” She glances at the remainder of her lunch with a look of disgust. “I think I lost my appetite,” she says.

“I think they’re all just overly excited since we didn’t have a prom last year.”

“I know!” Stephanie says. “It was the greatest year of my life. None of the heteronormative, sexist, fascist political stunts we’re seeing this year.”

“Tell me how you really feel about it?” I laugh.

“Oh, I will.”

But Stephanie doesn’t get a chance to go off on one of her famous diatribes.

A tall, muscular kid with dark hair and dark features forces his way onto the bench between Stephanie and I. I recognize Jaron as one of Dad’s baseball players, but I don’t know him well.

Stephanie and I have to scoot down in opposite directions to make room for him.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says.

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