Page 84 of As You Walk On

Whateverthisis.

He blinks first. “Let me guess...” His fingers bump mine away from the screen. He scrolls before grinning. “This is what you call romantic?” The smug bastard’s stopped on a black-and-white album cover I know very well.

I gasp. Heat spreads from the bridge of my nose outward as I say, “Mariah’s iconic! Timeless.”

Study Girl peeks her head from behind her laptop. HerDude, really?glare sends an itchy, embarrassed feeling crawling over my skin.

“That’s certainly a hot take,” counters Luca.

I shrug.

“So... if you could prompose to anyone,” he begins, waiting until I’m focused on him again. “Not, like, you know...”

Christian, I think he wants to say.

“No one we know,” he quickly corrects. “An imaginary person. Hypothetical date.” He’s stumbling, face rapidly turning maroon, and I’m helpless to how quickly my mouth curves upward. “Someone. Would you go with Mariah?”

I purse my lips. Pretend to consider my options. Even back in Maddie’s bedroom, I never really thought about what song I’d use to prompose to Christian. Whether I’d even go that route. If given the chance, how far would I lean into my own corniness?

My stomach flips the other way.

It’s a shame I’m almost too scared to let myself think that big. My dream prom night.Dream promposal. All of it. Like expecting these simple but enormous things is too dangerous for people like me.

Luca’s soft, curious eyes watch me.

It can’t hurt to dream big for a second, right?

My fingers slip under his to touch the screen. I swipe and swipe. His hand never leaves. Silver rings kiss my knuckles as I find what I’m looking for. Press play.

Suddenly, the Waffle House is filled with, you guessed it, One Direction.

Luca groans obnoxiously.

“What can I say?” I rub the pad of my thumb along his grandfather’s ring. “Sometimes it’s not about the song, buthowyou prompose.”

As if on cue, Makayla appears in front of us. Her smirk says she knows what I’m going for.

Everything happens so quickly. Makayla drags me to the middle of the restaurant. She tosses her hair over one shoulder, smoothly falling into the role of Devya. I drop to bended knee, pretending to be Luca, heart-eyes and all. Aleah hops into a kneeling position in the booth, singing gleefully. It’s a crime against humanity that she knows every lyric to this song. At least she nails the Rolling Tones cheesiness.

The true scene-stealer is River, who hip-checks me out of the way to kiss the back of Makayla’s hand midway through our performance. A true Peter Vasquez understudy. I fall dramatically, devastated expression cranked to level eleven. That’s when Aleah loses it.

At the last second, as I’m standing, Luca swoops in. Phone in hand. He blinks up with doe-ish eyes.Oh. He’s me.

I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha.”

After helping him up, our hands stay clasped. For the longest moment, I finally let myself picture it: Luca and me. Dancing to played-out music. Posing for silly photos. Kissing as he fixes the lapels on my rented tux.

My heart tightens then expands.

After an echoing applause from the diners and staff, the air around our table is supercharged. We’re all smiling over our plates. Strips of bacon are exchanged for toast slices. Heady scents of thick maple syrup and melting butter and the Tabasco sauce Luca drenches his eggs with fills my nose. He even passes me the ketchup bottle for my hash browns, no judgmental eyebrows included.

No one discusses what just happened. We all know it was badass.

Out of nowhere, River slams a hand on the table, cracking up. They’re red-faced. Tears stream down their cheeks.

“Hmm, those edibles finally kicked in,” says Aleah, smirking.

But River isn’t laughing anymore. They’re sobbing.

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