Page 122 of As You Walk On

He’s been jumpy since we strolled into the quad, which is funny since I’m the one with more enemies than allies these days. Luckily, it’s a Jay-less lunch break. No topknot or vicious glare in sight. That and the warm rays beaming on our stone table have made this a shockingly good time. But Darren’s on obvious edge, looking around every corner like Ghostface from those Scream movies is coming for him.

“No!” Darren exclaims when I bounce another pretzel off his cheek.

“Bullshit.” I laugh. “You owe Amanda Cox money or something?”

Speak the devil’s name and she shall appear.

Through the sea of students enjoying the spring heat, Amanda marches forward with a couple of the Rolling Tones following. Hands behind her back, preppy style on level twelve, she smiles our way.

No. Amanda Cox is smirkingmy way.

She and the Tones stop five feet away. People are staring. Phones are trained on us like everyone’s expecting a verbal throwdown worthy of social media notoriety. I swallow, then croak, “Uh, hello?”

With an unsubtle hair flip, Amanda raises three fingers, slowly lowering a digit at a time. It’s a countdown. When the last finger drops, the Rolling Tones behind her—somehow doubled in number since their initial approach—burst into song.

Surprised laughter erupts from our audience, some cooing too. My heart lurches. Everything goes fuzzy. I barely make out the upbeat, poppy song they’re belting out. The lyrics are mad corny and...

I gasp, eyes widening.God, no. It’s “Live While We’re Young” by One freaking Direction.

From all corners of the quad, the remaining Rolling Tones appear, falling into seamless harmony with Amanda. She’s front and center, working through the robotic choreography that has won their a cappella group an assortment of first-place ribbons. Offbeat claps from the table next to ours encourage her to go all out.

That’s when I notice something.

Darren’s not beside me anymore. No, he’s joined the Rolling Tones’ line of rhythmless dancing. He’s not the only one.

River’s next to him. I clock Makayla jumping and shouting the lyrics off-key, earning a lethal stank face from Amanda. But the cherry on top. The most unbelievable thing is...

Aleah’s here too.

She steals the lead from Amanda, hitting a dope slide-shoulder-shimmy combo while nailing her notes. I can’t catchmy breath from laughing. Tears stick to my eyelashes.

But it’s not over.

Midway through the second chorus, the Tones and my friends reconfigure, forming a circle around me. Phones are aimed higher to capture every second. But I notice half the cameras are pointed somewhere else. Squeals arise. The volleyball team stands on tables to applaud.

Amanda plops a plastic crown on my head. It’s almost like the one from Maddie’s bedroom.

The Tones are humming a new, slower melody. I instantly recognize it: Mariah Carey’s “Always Be My Baby.” The song I serenaded this very quad with.

A cheek-aching, heart-in-my-throat smile engulfs my face.

The circle splits. With pink cheeks, impeccable hair, and a black T-shirt with a white?in the middle is Luca.

To his right, our friends form a line, all wearing white T-shirts with a black letter printed on them. Together, they spell outP-R-O-M-?

I can’t breathe. New tears spring to my eyes. How is this happening? I’m having the moment I’ve wanted for so long but could never imagine transpiring. In front of all my peers, Luca Ramírez is promposing to me.

His crinkled-eye smile is twitching. He’s nervous. After everything I said, how I acted, why isheworried?

“Well?”

There’s not enough oxygen going to my brain. Wrinkles overwhelm my forehead. “I didn’t think you wanted... I mean,” I stammer. “You deserve a better date.”

Luca rolls his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, but I get to decide what I want. Like going to prom with the people Ilike.” He reaches up to fix the crown on my head. “And going with the boy who won’t complain when I eat all the pink Starburst.”

Despite myself, I snort.

He grabs my hand. His nails are still black. My fingertips brush against his rings.

---