Page 121 of Lost Boy
The crowd cheers and claps, the energy building with anticipation.
“Your Prom Queen and Prom Princess are. . .” She slowly opens the envelope, a smile quirking her lips at the names she finds.
“Gracie Sinclair and Taylor Roberts!”
More applause and loud whistles fill the space.
“And your Prom King and Prom Prince are none other than Ryder Cruz and Fallon Rivers! Everyone come up here and accept your crowns and sashes!”
I glance over to my boyfriend to gauge his reaction to the title.
New Fallon is smirking. New Fallon may even be laughing inside at the notion of being prom royalty with me.
All four of us make our way to the stage. Gracie and Taylor jump up and down, holding hands and squealing as they both get crowns placed on their heads.
Then Alexis looks at the two of us standing side by side in matching black tuxes with neon green accents and winks.
I understand what she did for us, anointing us Prom King and Prom Prince.Together.As a couple. In front of the entire school, sending a message of acceptance and inclusivity.
The crowd cheers as I lean down, allowing her to place the crown on my curls while Taylor and Gracie help with Fallon’s.
This feels big. Monumental almost.
Allowing future classes to have same-sex couples win together is progress I didn’t even know we needed. I smile wide as Glenn from Yearbook snaps photo after photo, the flash nearly blinding us. But we don’t care. The four of us link arms for a group shot, and Fallon even gives a little half-smile.
“Alright. Let’s dance!” I shout, ready to get the night going.
The after-parties are when therealfun starts.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
FALLON
The senior class rented out the entire penthouse level, ensuring we could be as loud as we wanted before dispersing to our individual rooms.
And, of course, Ryder and I are sharing.
The after-party is going strong. The drinks are flowing, and the music is bumping.
I took my suit jacket off, tossing it somewhere around here. My tie hangs loosely from my neck, and I’m lounging on the sofa, legs spread, head on the back of the couch, watching my boyfriend dance with one of his girl friends.
I can’t take my eyes off of him. His smile is radiant, his personality unknowingly seductive, and with kindness so warm that he glows with an inner light. I’m dazed, completely charmed like a snake in a pot, and Ryder is the man with a flute.
I tip my head back, guzzling the last of my beer but never taking my eyes off him. He’s so carefree, and the positive energy radiating from him demands my attention. I was lost to his pull, the attraction slowly drawing me out of the dark pit I was trapped in. Until there was no more denyingus.
He’s fascinating. And mine.All mine.
I slam my empty bottle down and stand abruptly. I walk steadily despite the five beers I’ve had.
We don’t have to hide anymore, and I’m done with this afterparty.
I’m ready to get fucked by the prom king.
The alcohol has lowered my inhibitions, so my filter is gone, and my inhibitions are out the window.
I grab Ryder’s wrist and tug without saying anything or stopping my momentum. He’s half a foot taller, and God knows how much heavier, but he follows obediently, laughing and apologizing to the girl he was dancing with. Taylor maybe. I couldn't tell you. I have a singular vision for one boy with flawlessly tan skin, olive-green eyes, and adorable curls.
“Fallon, what are you doing?” he chuckles. There’s no point in answering. He won’t hear me over the thumping bass and vibrating crowd. I lead us down the hallway, away from the buzz of the party.
