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“I want to know what it’s like to be normal,” she elaborated. Her features were open as she glanced at me, large eyes wide and vulnerable. “I don’t even want to dance. I just want togo, to see the decorations and stuff. I bet it’s like a fairytale.”
I was sure itwasn’t, but there was no way I could destroy her dreams when she had that look on her face.
“If he’ll really take me,” she began, and my heart sank. I knew where this question was going to go, “do you think I should find a way to sneak in?”
“No.”
“No?” she asked, blinking at me, looking as if she’d heard the most absurd thing.
“Because you’re going with me,” I added.
“W-w-what?” She blinked up at me, and my resolve steadied. The fact that me even asking hadshockedher into stuttering was something that didn’t sit well in my stomach.
“The junior prom,” I clarified, looking past her to the lit bay windows where her parents were waiting. “I’ll take you if you really want to go.”
There was an expression of expectation in her eyes, and I knew I was screwed no matter what happened next.
“Why?” she asked, almost hopeful.
Because I wanted to make her happy, and because it was something she longed for. Because I’d put up with two hours of watching tone-deaf morons grind against each other on the dance floor just so she could fulfill one of her fantasy daydreams. And—
“Because I don’t want you to go with anyone else.”
She wasn’t mine, but that didn’t mean that sometimes, I couldn’t pretend.
“Are you sure?” she asked, and guilt twisted in my stomach. It was like she couldn’t even bring herself to hope.
And now I was more determined than ever to make things ‘normal’ for her. She deserved that much at least.
“Yes.” I held out my hand to her.
She glanced at it, unsure, as physical contact was still something she rarely allowed unless in a critical situation.
But then she smiled. “Okay.” Even though the gazebo was shrouded in shadow, I could still see that her skin was turning pink and her eyes shone with something that might be admiration, but I also didn’t want to linger on it.
A jolt shot through my chest as her fingers touched mine, and I pulled her to her feet.
“Great,” I said, trying not to seem at all eager—cause, really, I wasn’t—at least not for the crowds. But the chance to see Bianca dress up and glow? Absolutely.
I was just a little bit excited. “It’ll be great.”
“Finn.” Mr. Geier wasn’t happy. I’d stayed for the most awkward dinner in my memory, then had to sneak back to Bianca’s house after she went to bed, because this was simply too important of a conversation to have on the phone.
Mr. Geier hadn’t wasted any time. The second I sat down, he linked his fingers under his chin as his normally friendly features had changed into something far more serious. “What are you trying to do?”
“Nothing!” I tried to reason with him, pretending—at least for the moment—I wasn’t at all terrified of the other man’s disapproving stare.
“Biancawantsto go to prom,” I told him. “If not with me, she’ll find a way to go withhim.” I knew that sounded terrible, but it wasn’t the only reason…
Mr. Geier frowned, and I could see his resolve wavering already.
Bianca rarely asked foranything, and it’d probably pained him to refuse her request the first time.
“That’s… different,” he said, facing his bookshelves. “She surprised me. I was going to bring it up with you. Do you think she might be getting closer to recovery?”
“She says that she wants to feel ‘normal’,” I told him. “But you can’t let her go withhim.”
Mr. Geier’s response, though, wasn’t what I expected. “Do you want to take her to keep her from someone else, or do you genuinely want to spend that time with her?”
