Page 8 of The Prom Queen Project
My throat constricted.
Every seemingly insignificant piece of the puzzle had a purpose. Everything I’d done to rise through the social ranks wasn’t just for fun; there was a deeper meaning hidden beneath what looked like a shallow ambition. It was never about the title or the cheap plastic tiara. Trust me, if that were the case, it wouldn’t be worth it at all.
“I was just—”
“No! This is unacceptable, both of you! I will not stand for this, and since you did not heed my warning earlier, the punishment must fit the crime.”
“Whoa, calm down, lady.” Elliot huffed. “You sound like that old bag, Judge Judy.”
“Two-day suspension!” Her shrill voice echoed.
My heart sank as I shook my head furiously in disbelief. “No, wait—”
“You can’t do that!” Elliot shouted, fear laced in every word.
“Elliot, not only were you caught smoking on school premises, which is what got you detention in the first place, but you were also late. Then, when you finally got here, you spent the majority of the time chatting, and you have no work to show for the last half an hour. Clarke, you seem to think everything is just a big joke and that the world revolves around you, not only in class yesterday, but also proven by this assignment. Maybe since detention clearly isn’t enough to change eitherof you, a suspension will. Effective immediately, you are both suspended.”
Adrenaline flooded my veins as my heart pounded against the inside of my ribcage.Was I breathing?Why didn’t it feel like I was breathing? The veins in my neck protruded as I gasped for air. How did I not only break my rule of staying out of trouble but also make it so much worse by landing both a detention and a suspension on the same day? I couldn’t be cheer captain if I got suspended, it was against policy. Not to mention who would vote for the girl who lost her new title as cheer captain in less than eight hours.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I pleaded. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
“It’s far too late for that, Ms. Taylor.” She clicked her tongue.
This frail sixty-something-year-old woman with graying hair slicked back into a taught bun and wearing a chain to hold her oval spectacles stood at maybe five feet, but she seemed to be towering over us at this point. The scowl on her face left nothing to be desired, and I felt smaller and smaller with every single word that she spoke. I swallowed hard, trying to satiate the sandpaper that was lining my mouth.
“Please. If I get suspended, I might not be able to graduate this year. I can’t get held back again.”
Held back?I glanced at Elliot, who looked utterly defeated, his usual tumultuous energy nowhere to be seen. That explained why I had never heard of him until today—and why he was struggling so much with such a simple assignment. He just probably wasn’t the best when it came to school…or grades…or being on time…or manners.
An idea suddenly clicked in my mind.
“Wait, Mrs. Hawthorne,” I interjected, holding my hands out to reason with her. “What if I promise to tutor Elliot for the semester?”
Elliot scoffed. “You tutor me? The blonde cheerleader with a walnut for a brain?”
I bit my tongue to keep from screaming at him. Arguing with him wouldn’t help solve my suspension problem. I knew that.However, I couldn’t help myself from throwing his words back in his face.
“I have a GPA of 4.0, and I’ve already been accepted into one of the best colleges in South Carolina. Don’t let one shit essay or the blonde hair fool you, Elliot. I’m smarter than most of the seniors in our grade and definitely smarter than some loser who failed the twelfth grade.”
“You two are like petulant children, and enough with the swearing!” Mrs. Hawthorne rubbed small circles on her temples. “Why exactly do you think this would be a good idea, Clarke?”
“Because.” I stood proudly with my hands on my hips. “It will help Elliot get his grades up so that he can graduate, and it will help me do something selfless and not…shallow.”
“Clarke, what the—”
“Mr. Keller, don’t youdareswear again.”
“Heck. I was going to say heck,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
The teacher pinched the bridge of her nose and let out an exasperated sigh. I guess this wasn’t what she had in mind when it came to the first day of school.Me either, lady, me either.
“Fine, Ms. Taylor. We have a deal.”
It worked? It worked!
“Thank y—”
“But,” she interrupted, her lips forming a tight line. “There will also be some ground rules.”
