Page 30 of The Prom Queen Project
I swayed my hips to the music, letting the beat take control. Propping myself against a random stranger’s shoulder, I climbed onto the coffee table, instantly drawing eyes.
Funny thing, though—it didn’t bother me like it normally would. These people adored me, even if it was for all the wrong reasons. Every girl wanted to be me, and every guy wanted to have me. Too bad none of them ever would. Not that it mattered.Most of my relationships were just shallow illusions, anyway. No one here knew the real me—the quiet, socially anxious, book-obsessed girl hiding beneath the surface. Maybe if I had been myself when I first moved here, I could’ve made real friends instead of collecting hollow, lifeless imitations. All for Prom Queen, right? Smirking, I bent forward and snatched a red cup from a small brunette’s hand. She looked way too young to be here, anyway.
“Vote Clarke Taylor for Homecoming Queen!” I shouted, holding the cup to the sky.
The crowd erupted in cheers, fueling the fire of my ego. A surge of pride washed over me. These people hung on my every move, completely enthralled. Playing the role of the bubbly, ditzy blonde was second nature by now. If anything, the real challenge was being myself. Fortunately, they were far too oblivious to realize I’d been faking it for the last three years.
Except for Elliot.
I froze, scanning the sea of faceless people that surrounded me. Had I really fooled everyone, or were there others who saw through me? Had the outcasts at school always known I was nothing but a fraud? Maybe I’d spent too much time trying to win over the wrong crowd. But I couldn’t just abandon my so-called friends. Turning against them would mean giving up on Prom Queen, and even if I wanted to shed the mask and join the outcasts, how could I ever reach a group that saw me as nothing more than an ‘entitled, prissy bitch?’
A wave of nausea rolled through me, bile rising in my throat. No way I could let anyone see me puke—especially the one group of people who worshipped me. Forcing it down, I tipped my red cup back and chugged the rest of its contents. I blinked hard, willing myself to stay grounded, but the flashing lights only made everything worse. My vision blurred, the room tilting around me. It only took one small step to the left, and I hadlost my footing, tumbling off the table. That two-foot drop felt so much higher when everything was spinning. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for a hard thud as I tensed my entire body. But it never came. Instead, I felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around me, stopping my impending death. Dazed, I looked up—and met Elliot’s gaze.
Eight
“Oh great, my Prince Charming is here,” I muttered while pressing the palms of my hands against his chest, pushing him away from me.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fi…” I tried to move away from him, almost losing my footing again in the process. I clutched my purse, thinking it would offer some sort of stability. It didn’t.
“I’m taking you home.”
“No, El—”
“You’re drunk. You shouldn’t even be here right now!”
“Look, Abercrombie, you’re not my boyfriend, so stop trying to take care of me.”
“And leave you alone with all of these well-mannered gentlemen? Yeah, no thanks.”
“What do you even care? Don’t you hate me?”
“Contrary to what you believe, Clarke, I’m not an asshole or hat or…whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re leaving. Now.”
The way this conversation paralleled the one I had with Meredith was almost humorous, but there was one key difference—Elliot and I weren’t friends.Period.
He didn’t seem to understand that as he grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the front door. As he tried to guide me outside, I stopped in the doorway, refusing to budge.
“Wait, I have to make sure Meredith is okay!”
Elliot sighed, releasing my hand to rub his forehead. His expression tightened, as if he were deep in thought.
“Just wait outside. I’ll be back.”
“What? No way!”
Before I could stop him, Elliot pulled me outside, seamlessly switching places with me before stepping back into the house. I moved to follow, but that bastard locked the door behind him.Fucker.I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for him to return as annoyance radiated through me.
When I glanced up at the sky, I couldn’t help but notice how dark it had gotten. Too bad the moon wasn’t made of RGB lights…or maybe that was actually a blessing. The muffled thump of music still pulsed from inside the house, but out here, the crickets dominated the soundscape. It was oddly peaceful compared to the chaos I’d just escaped. A wave of nausea hit me, and I sank onto the cold concrete, willing it to pass. When the door finally swung open again, I sprang to my feet, only for my head to start doing dizzying somersaults. Clenching my fists, I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to look sober.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?”
“It’s taken care of. Meredith is fine. We’re leaving.”
“Do you get off on saving people or something? What do you mean she’s fine?”
“Oh, for the love of…” He knelt down, scooped me into his arms, and tossed me over his shoulder. “I’m taking you home, Clarke. You’ll thank me for this tomorrow.”
