Page 11 of The Promposal

Lunchtime rolled around, and Ella and I sat together since both of our boyfriends were MIA. She stared at her phone, scrolling through large blocks of text.

“What are you doing?” I asked as I pushed aside what the cafeteria claimed was a feta and quinoa salad. As I didn’t recognize either of the top ingredients, and “salad” was just code for vegetables nobody actually enjoyed eating, I wasn’t going to force it on myself. Making sure the coast was clear, I pulled out a plastic baggie filled with soft-baked chocolate chip cookies.

“Looking through my course schedule for UCLA next year. They don’t have the fashion merchandising major I was hoping for.”

“I thought you were going to major in design.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m good at pulling looks together or copying famous designers. I’m not very good at creating my own clothes. I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m going to try and become a fashion stylist. But it’s really competitive, so I just wanted to make sure I’m taking the best possible classes this fall.”

“If UCLA doesn’t have the major you want, why not go to a different school?”

Ella looked at me like I was stupid. “Because I want to go to UCLA.”

It had been the school her mother had attended, and Ella had never even considered another university. She’d worked hard not only to get in, but she also had a part-time job to help pay for tuition. When Ella’s mom, Dad’s second wife, had died, Ella had had no other family. So we had taken her in, and she’d seemed to feel like she had to earn her place with us. Dad had told her that was dumb and that he would pay for all her college expenses, because as far as he was concerned, she was his daughter just as much as I was.

It had been a really emotional experience, but it had also taken a lot of the strain and stress out of Ella’s life.

Especially the whole not having to get student loans and go into debt for the rest of her life part.

“Where is Belle? Has anyone seen Belle?”

I turned to see Victor Kim in a blue-and-gold suit/costume, holding a glass bell jar in his right hand. Was he actually wearing white knee-high tights? His legs were so thin it amazed me that he could walk around on them all day without them breaking. It took me a second to figure out what he was doing.

“Where is my Beauty?”

Mindi stood, both hands over her chest, her eyes bigger than any anime character I’d ever seen. “Here I am!”

He knelt in front of her, offering her the glass-encased crystal rose. “Dearest Belle, will you ‘Be My Guest’ at prom? Because this Beast needs his Beauty by his side.”

With shaking hands, Mindi took his gift. “Yes! Of course I will!”

Victor stood and pulled Mindi into a serious kiss among applause, hoots, and hollers. I couldn’t believe what I’d just witnessed. Serious, straitlaced Victor Kim had made an utter fool of himself for the girl he loved.

He’d given her a literal fairy tale.

The ugly wave of jealousy that slammed into me made me feel like I was going to be ill.

After their kiss ended, Mindi rushed over to our table with Victor in tow. “Mattie! Ella! Did you see that? Did you see what Victor, my boyfriend, did?”

“Kind of hard to miss.”

She nodded enthusiastically, missing my sarcasm. “Here, look at this!” She handed her rose inside a jar to Ella, who put down her phone to take it. “Beauty and the Beastis my favorite movie ever. Which Victor, my boyfriend, totally remembered. Isn’t he the best?”

“He’s ... something.” I tugged on Ella’s arm. “Come on. Sorry, guys, we need to get to class.”

Ella congratulated them both and handed the rose back to Mindi. “Why are we leaving?” she said after we were out of earshot of the annoyingly happy couple. “We still have like fifteen minutes before lunch ends.”

“I prefer not to throw up my cookies, thanks.” I’d discovered that promposals weren’t nearly as fun when you despaired of ever getting one. “Plus, I’ve missed enough class today already.”

“Yeah, I noticed you weren’t in PE today.”

“That’s because I’m in the Fitness Protection Program. Can’t blow my cover by exercising.”

Actually, I’d skipped class because I’d decided having your mother publicly disown you to the entire internet should have some kind of side benefit. So I had told Jennifer I needed a break from a couple of classes. She had, predictably, given in after enough begging and pleading. I had spent the time drawing manga, and it had improved my outlook even more.

Or it had until the Beauty and her Beast fiasco.

And the fact that we were headed to calculus, also known as the Black Arts of the Devil, didn’t help my annoyed mood.

---