Page 16 of The Promposal

As I got closer, I saw the title of the book he was holding. “The Sound and the Fury? Aren’t we reading the CliffsNotes for that in English?”

“Some of us prefer to read the actual book.”

Same snark, same kinds of jokes, but they felt flat. Devoid of any warmth or friendliness. Like ... he didn’t want to talk to me and hoped I would go away. Things had been this way between us since he had announced that his father was leaving his mother for some twenty-two-year-old.

Awkward and uncomfortable.

“So ... what have you been up to?” I was this close to asking for his opinion on the weather.

“Well, I have that fantasy football league, and it’s eating up most of my time.”

He was being sarcastic, and it might have even been a jab at Jake. Because Jake actually participated in a fantasy football league. Which I kept trying to convince him wasn’t a real thing and just something invented by men to waste time and allow them to talk about sports past the designated season.

I decided to give Trent the benefit of the doubt. “So ... prom.”

Not my most graceful of transitions.

“The ultimate four-letter word,” Trent agreed, not even looking up from his book.

Might as well cut to the chase. “Do you have a promposal? For Ella?”

That finally got me his full attention. He blinked at me several times, as if I were some figment of his imagination.

It made me feel dumb. I pointed toward the main hallway, where I could still hear the flash mob’s music. “You know, like what everybody around you is doing? Asking their girlfriends to the dance?”

“How very peer-pressurey of you,” he said, closing his book and standing up. “No, I’m not going to prom.”

Panic clawed at my throat. This was wrong. All wrong. Had I done this? Messed it up somehow? “Does Ella know?”

He shrugged his shoulders and looked like he couldn’t care less that he’d just lobbed a weapon of prom destruction straight at me. “You can tell her.”

Without another word, he walked off, leaving me to stare after him, my mouth hanging open, my palms sweaty.

Was he serious?

Because there was no way I was telling my sister that she’d lost her phone and her prom date all in the same day.

And that I might possibly be to blame for half of it.

CHAPTER SIX

Kenyetta and I met at the library at her elementary school. She was in the sixth grade and was about to turn twelve years old (a fact she brought up constantly). We’d been working together for about five months, and I suspected during that time period she’d become better at math than I was.

Today we were supposed to be working on science, but Kenyetta was especially uncooperative. She leaned back in her chair and brushed a dreadlock out of her eyes. “I’m going to be a professional dancer. When am I going to need science once I’m grown?”

“I’m probably supposed to say a lot. Which I don’t think is true. But you will definitely need it for school.”

She picked up one of the note cards we’d created for her test next week. “In high school I need to know that protons have mass?”

“Who knew protons were Catholic?” I joked. At her disdainful expression, I added, “You do need to know that. Until you graduate from college. Then I give you permission to forget everything. Except if you become like a scientist or a doctor. Then don’t forget it.” I didn’t want to be responsible for a malpractice lawsuit or a nuclear meltdown.

“My dad said last night that I’m more of a visual person. Like in ballet, I need to see a step done before I can do it.” As if to prove her point, she stood up and executed a perfect turn on her tiptoes with some kind of foot thingy at the end.

I pointed at her chair. “Visualize yourself as the only twenty-five-year old seventh-grader. Come on. Your dad will be here soon.”

Kenyetta’s dad worked harder than anyone I’d ever met. Her mom had died when she was three, just as her father had been finishing his residency to become an oncologist. He was very good at what he did, which meant he was highly in demand. One of Kenyetta’s aunts had moved in with them for a few years to help out Craig, Kenyetta’s dad. But now that Kenyetta was older, her aunt had moved back to Georgia. I knew Kenyetta missed her terribly.

This poor little girl had lost her mother and the only mother figure she’d ever known. When I thought about her situation, I felt stupid for being such a Prom-a Queen.

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