Page 19 of The Prom Queen Project
“You just…” He rubbed his fingers harshly against his forehead, leaving a red streak behind. “You just look so different at home than you do at school.”
I panicked internally as I glanced down at my outfit.
I was still in the spaghetti-stained sweatshirt and a pair of faded leggings from earlier. I hadn’t had time to change, having completely forgotten about my study session with Elliot until hearrived. I looked like a disaster. I lowered my gaze and ran my fingers through my messy hair, trying to tame it.
“Oh, I just…umm—”
“Stop,” he said, resting his hand on mine. A wave of electricity coursed through my body. “Don’t be embarrassed. I…like this version of you.”
My body tensed, every muscle locking up. I froze, unable to look away from his hand on mine. Barely a moment after making contact, he eased his grip, just as I was starting to settle into it.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s fine. Uh, thanks.”
“Yeah. So, um, we should get back to the book.”
“Yeah.”
No matter how many times I read the same sentence, I couldn’t get my mind to focus. How could he possibly like how I looked right now? Honestly, calling my appearance a four-car pileup was being generous. I wasn’t new to compliments, but usually, I looked...better? More put together? Not like a zombie? My reputation was built on being a pretty girl with a bubbly personality, so how was it that Elliot didn’t seem to care about either?
My thoughts were interrupted when my dad walked into the library with a plate of fresh chocolate chip cookies, with Cleo following close behind.
Without hesitation, the cat jumped right onto Elliot’s lap, settling on him as if she were his best friend. The look of pure fear in Elliot’s eyes was impossible to miss. My dad smiled widely as he set the cookies down in the middle of the table.
“Is this your way of apologizing for earlier?” I asked, closing my book.
“More like me checking to see if the two of you still have your clothes on.”
“Ew, Dad. Gross.”
“Kidding,” he remarked, lifting Cleo into his arms as relief washed over Elliot’s face. He gestured toward the plate and added, “I think it’s only fair that Elliot gets the first cookie, since I was being so hard on him.”
“Oh,” Elliot said, seeming taken aback at my dad’s words. “Okay, sure. Thanks.”
Before I could question his motives, Elliot shoved a whole cookie into his mouth, chewing as though it had been ages since his last meal. Crumbs scattered from his lips as he smacked them together.
“Hope you like it. It’s a new recipe I’ve been working on. Milk chocolate, eggs, butter, brown sugar, flour, andlaxatives.”
Elliot choked, quickly spitting the cookie into his hand where it formed a ball of mush. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Laughter spilled from my lips despite my efforts to contain my amusement. As much as I wanted to watch him freak out for a little while longer, my good conscience wouldn’t let me.
“Dad,” I groaned. “Not funny.”
“Is he serious?” Elliot directed toward me, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency.
“No. He’s just really bad at jokes and way too protective of his daughter.”
“All in good fun, Elliot.” My dad chuckled, giving him a hearty pat on the back as he left with a satisfied grin.
I cocked a smile as I glanced at Elliot, who appeared mortified while staring at the half-eaten cookie in his hand.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” He paused. “I think your Dad’s starting to like me.”
“Totally.”
“So, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Where’s the nearest bathroom? If I look at this half-chewed cookie much longer, I’ll barf.”
