Page 4 of The Promposal

I heard Allison and Vanessa shrieking and squealing somewhere behind us as they accepted their promposals, all while being filmed.

“Listen to them,” Ella said with a sigh. “We won’t be that lame, will we?”

“Oh, please. Of course we will be. If we were horses, they would have to shoot us.” We would both be giddy and just as squealy and excited.

If it ever happened.

I caught our reflection in the front door. Ella and I looked like total opposites. Where she was petite, blonde, blue-eyed, and perfect looking, I was tall, curvy, green-eyed (literally, that was not a metaphorical statement), and currently sporting blue-purple hair. I claimed it was inspired by a specific pop star in her music video, but the truth was that the prom colors were purple and silver, and I wanted to match.

See? Super lame. Somebody would have to put me out of my misery.

“You know, it is the twenty-first century. You could just ask Jake,” Ella told me, causing me to almost trip over my own feet. Sexist as it might have seemed, girls did not do promposals at Malibu Prep. There had been a few who asked a guy to go, but then he still had to do something elaborate in front of everyone if he accepted. It was viewed as, like, a kind of consolation prize. There was no way I could ask Jake and still maintain some level of dignity.

“I’ll get on that as soon as you ask Trent.”

She gave me a look. “Be serious.”

Ha. “Hey, pot, the kettle wanted me to remind you what color you are.”

I heard a strange sound, like someone had just poured a huge bag of M&M’s into a giant bowl. I turned to see Ximena Veracruz surrounded by hundreds of Ping-Pong balls bouncing up and down. Her mouth was open, her eyes wide. She still had her hand on her locker door, as if she’d just opened it and been attacked by a Ping-Pong avalanche. A sign hung from the locker that said, “We’ll have a BALL at prom together!”

Ella sighed longingly, and I tried to downplay the gesture. “Attempting to clean all that up in the fifteen minutes before class starts kind of takes away from the romance of it all.”

Because while our headmistress, Ms. Rathbone, let the promposals take place, what she would not tolerate was a mess. I was trying to figure out whether Porter really wanted to take Ximena to prom or if he was trying to land them both in detention and banned from the dance. It was kind of ingenious, really. This way he got the credit for asking but might not have to actually go.

My sister tugged on my arm. “Come on. We’ll be late.”

Ella was my vice president, along with being captain of the cheerleading squad and spending more hours volunteering for various causes than any teen girl should. She had even gotten me involved with a tutoring program for elementary-age kids. Ella was the kind of girl who seemed like she got help cleaning our house from birds and chipmunks, and she was so often a pushover because she wanted to be kind. But when Ella wanted something, she did not mess around.

She’d volunteered to head up the prom committee in addition to all her other obligations. Which meant she did all the hard work, day-to-day stuff while I was the visionary whose plan she executed because I’m super generous like that. But it also meant that when she decided to have a prom check-in meeting, we all had to show up.

Outside of the student government room stood Parminda (Mindi) Kandhari and Victor Kim, my treasurer and junior class rep. Sucking face like it was the only way to get oxygen into their lungs. They were the weirdest couple. Victor was a straight A student, in all AP classes, and participated in the academic decathlon. He was always serious; in fact, I couldn’t remember a single time I’d ever seen him smile. Mindi, on the other hand, was all about having a good time. Well, as much of a good time as her very strict parents would allow her to have. She loved to laugh, dance, be as frivolous as possible, and was barely passing her classes.

As if she could read my thoughts, Ella said, “I still don’t get what those two have in common.”

“At the moment? A deep-seated interest in cleaning each other’s tonsils.”

“Ew.”

Ms. Rathbone walked by just then, and I wondered if Ximena was about to get yelled at. Without breaking her stride, the headmistress said, “Mr. Kim, Ms. Kandhari, unless one of you is in need of CPR, please desist with the public displays of affection. Thank you!”

Our headmistress’s words finally got them to stop. I kind of expected there to be some sort of seal-breaking suction sound when they pulled apart.

“Oh, hey.” Mindi gave us a little wave as she followed us into the classroom. Ella took out her phone and called the meeting to order right away. She ran through her list, making sure that everyone had done their assigned roles and that we were still on track.

I realized that neither Jake nor Trent had showed up, and they should have. Mostly because it was their responsibility as part of the student government, but also because they so obviously needed the reminder of their sacred duty to ask their girlfriends to the freaking dance.

Organizing this prom had been the biggest win for my presidency. As per my campaign promises, I’d also gotten us senior parking and casual Fridays. The board had refused to budge on the “healthy lunch” initiative, which made it so that we weren’t allowed to bring our own food from home and tried to force us to eat whatever garbage they were serving in the cafeteria. Which I still counted as a sort of win considering that it had led to a thriving black market of Twinkies and Snickers contraband.

I was determined to have my way for the prom, though. Because every single dance was a fund-raiser for Malibu Prep. Alumni would always attend. The dance was never just for the high schoolers to enjoy and let loose. Not to mention that it would be kind of hard to have a magical prom with your dad and his girlfriend (no matter how much you liked her) chaperoning.

I’d convinced the board to let this prom be strictly for the students. By teenagers, for teenagers. All we’d had to do was a million extra fund-raisers to make up for the lost funds.

So worth it.

I reached out for the dog-eared prom catalog on the table. I turned to my favorite page again. The theme of our dance was “Dream Come True,” which was so on the nose for how almost perfect my life had become. Since we didn’t have to worry about impressing adults, we could order all the cheesy decorations we wanted. A giant pumpkin-shaped carriage. A large clock about to strike twelve. A castle mural to put up on one wall. A cake shaped to match the mural castle. Centerpieces that would consist of calla lilies spray-painted silver in purple vases with castle confetti. Purple orchids hanging from live potted plants placed around the room. Actual paper streamers and balloon arches. I couldn’t wait to see it all come together.

Her list completed, Ella turned her phone off and thanked everyone for coming. But not everyone had come. It was unlike Jake to miss a meeting. But I knew I shouldn’t have been all that surprised that Trent hadn’t bothered to show up. Ever since he’d told us about his parents getting divorced, he’d basically cut off all contact with us. I hadn’t spoken to him in months, in part because he almost never came to school. Ella had some sporadic conversations with him that made her hold out hope because she couldn’t ever give up on anybody. I kept wishing he’d go back to being himself and stop ignoring my sister.

---