Page 47 of The Promposal

“And I’ll do our hair and makeup. Our dates can pick us up in their cars. Or wait, I think Brent already reserved a limo. Once Jake asks you, tell him you guys can get in on that if you want. Which pretty much takes care of everything Mercedes ruined.”

More nodding. “Yep. Almost everything.”

Ella kept talking, as if I hadn’t said anything. “Now we just need to call all the ticket holders on the list and give them the new address.”

List? I hadn’t seen a list. Rosie was in charge of ticket sales, and knowing Ella as I did, she’d probably already had Rosie put together an alphabetical list of the students we’d have to inform about the venue change. If we each took a part, it shouldn’t take long for us to contact everyone. “Give me a section of the list and I’ll help.”

She looked at me in surprise, as if she’d forgotten I was in the room. “No, it’s fine. I already distributed the lists earlier today. We’ve got it covered.”

Why was she acting like this? “You’re being ridiculous. Let me help out. It’s kind of my job.”

“No!” she practically barked the word at me. “I mean, no, thank you. You’ve got a lot going on. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back with my measuring tape in a minute, and we’ll get started on your new dress.”

I was too tired to fight with her about the lists. And she was right. I did have a lot going on.

At the moment, the most important thing I had to figure out was how to tell my boyfriend that I suspected he was cheating on me and I was hurt and disappointed that he hadn’t given me a promposal.

And hope it didn’t mean the end of us.

The next day I awoke to a mild scandal. The reporter from my mom’s online clip published our interview, which caused a bit of an uproar in the New York art scene. It wasn’t very wide reaching or applicable to the real world, but it was enough to embarrass my mom. Who issued a statement that read, “What I meant by saying I had no daughter was that we have no relationship to speak of, so my notion of self does not include having a daughter.” Which did not make things better. It turned out most people didn’t think it was cool when you denied your child’s existence.

Admittedly, it made me feel marginally better that I wasn’t the only one who thought she was a terrible person.

Today was the day. I was going to talk to Jake and put everything on the line. And it would end one of two ways.

I hoped the universe had one more happily ever after for me.

But he didn’t come to English, our first class together. I wasn’t willing to wait around for him to show up. Because there were words to be had.

After class, I saw Mindi in the hall and grabbed her. “I have a question for you.”

Her mouth dropped open, shocked. “You’re ... you’re talking to me?”

“Yes.”

Giant tears welled up in her eyes. “I thought you would hate me forever.”

I did not have time for Mindi drama when I had my own to attend to. “I can’t hate you for being in love and letting Mercedes blackmail you. You’re not the only one she’s tried to torture. I’m still not happy with you, and it might take me a while to get over it. But you can help me get there a little faster by telling me how I can find out where my boyfriend is right now.”

She gave me a tentative smile and then took my phone. “Are you friends on Snapchat?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it will be easy to find him. It’s how I track down where Victor, my boyfriend, is when we’re not together. Here.”

She handed my phone back to me, and I saw a map that had a pin for Jake’s current location.

“Thanks,” I told her.

“Thank you. For talking to me. And, Mattie? I really am sorry. I wish I could do it over.”

Me too. But it wouldn’t do me any good to hold a massive grudge against a girl who was also a victim in all this. “Victor asked us to think about things from your perspective. And while I’m not sure I’d make the same choice as you, I think I get why you did it.”

“I wish I could make things right.”

Hoping I wouldn’t regret it, I said, “Why don’t you go see Ella and get an assignment for setting up on Saturday?”

“Seriously?” Her hands flew to her chest, as if she wanted to hug me but settled on hugging herself instead. “You’re going to let me come to prom? Back to student government?”

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