Page 73 of The Wrong Prom Date

Mr. Randall started handing out the assignments but paused when he reached my desk. “I’d like to see you after class,” he said, making nerves ratchet up my spine. As if my week could get any worse. Since the teacher hadn’t returned my assignment, I knew there was clearly something wrong with it. I couldn’t afford to get another bad grade in this class.

I didn’t hear a word Mr. Randall said for the rest of the period as I waited for the inevitable doom that awaited me once class was over. Whether or not I passed English was dependent on the grade I got on the biography assignment, and I felt completely resigned to the fact I’d failed.

When the bell finally rang, I dragged my feet to the front of the classroom. Mr. Randall waited until all the other students had left the room before he started talking.

“I was surprised by the final draft you handed in,” he said, only making the dread curdling inside me intensify. His surprise didn’t sound promising. “It was a complete change from the version you had me look over.”

Again, I wasn’t feeling any more comforted by his words. I looked at the ground, unable to face him as he condemned me.

“So, I failed?” I whispered.

“No. You got an A.”

My head snapped upwards and I was greeted by Mr. Randall’s beaming smile—a phenomenon I never thought I’d witness.

“W-what?” I stuttered in disbelief.

He handed over the paper, and I stared at the big red A written across the top of the page, my mouth hanging open.

“I wanted to congratulate you myself,” Mr. Randall continued. “You wrote an insightful piece and I wanted to say that I’m proud of you for really digging deep with this assignment.”

I was in so much shock I could barely speak. “But I never get A’s in English.”

“Well, you deserve this one, and I hope this is the start of many more for you. You’re a talented writer, Teagan, when you put in the effort required.”

“Thank you, Mr. Randall.” I blushed at his compliment, completely unaccustomed to hearing anything positive from a teacher who wasn’t Miss Appleby. This just didn’t feel real.

He pursed his lips before he continued. “I was also told to return Mr. Black’s assignment to you.”

“You were?”

“Yes. Since he won’t be returning to Lincoln, he asked if you could collect it for him.”

I frowned. Mr. Randall had spoken with Liam? It seemed ridiculous that he couldn’t find the time to explain his disappearance to me but was willing to contact our English teacher. It was stranger still that he wanted me to have his assignment. I had to admit I was curious about what Liam had written though, so I took his biography of me without complaint. There was no mark across the top of the page, but the title made my stomach dip:A biography of Teagan York.

“Thanks, Mr. Randall,” I said, quickly looking up at him and smiling. “I’ll see you in class next week.”

I left the room quickly, hoping to making it out of there before Mr. Randall remembered what a difficult student I usually was and reconsidered the good grade he’d given me. I found Evan waiting in the corridor, and he lifted an eyebrow when he saw the papers clutched in my hands.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

I grinned and showed him my front page. “Mr. Randall just wanted to congratulate me in person. I got my first A.”

Evan grinned and lifted a hand to give me a high-five. I happily slapped his palm, enjoying the first burst of positivity I’d experienced all week. The feeling evaporated all too quickly though when I remembered that I also held Liam’s assignment in my hand.

“You go on to lunch,” I said to Evan. “I just need to go to the library quickly.”

Evan smiled. “Okay, Brainiac. Glad to see you didn’t let that A go to your head or anything.”

I poked my tongue out at him and started to walk away. “I’ll see you at rehearsal after school,” I called to him.

I started in the direction of the library but had no plans of actually going there. My curiosity had been piqued, and I needed to find somewhere private where I could read Liam’s assignment. When I spotted an empty classroom, I ducked inside, closing the door behind me. I walked toward the back of the room and took a seat by one of the windows. The lights were off, but sunlight streamed inside, warming me where I sat.

I placed Liam’s paper on the table and played with a stray hair as I started to read. I could barely breathe as my eyes devoured the words on the page before me. I was surprised to find that Liam was actually a good writer. But what surprised me more was how he described me in his biography.

He hadn’t known the truth about my mom when he’d written it, and yet he spoke about how strong and resilient I was. How I brought out the best in the people around me and challenged them to be better than they were the day before. He went into great detail about how talented I was on stage and how he had no doubts about my future as an actress. But what really made my heart stutter was the way he ended the biography.

Teagan York is beautiful inside and out, and I look forward to one day seeing her light up our screens the way she’s lit up my heart.

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