Page 97 of Between Love and War
This is okay, I think.
Just a little bit longer.
“Come with me,” I say suddenly, the words tumbling out before I can think twice.
Kate blinks. “What?”
“To the interview. Or after. I don’t know.” I exhale, flustered. “I just… I feel like I can do this if you’re there.”
She stares at me for a long time, probably letting thoughts circle her mind the same way they do mine. “Okay,” she whispers.
I smile. “Thank you,” I say. “I’ll text Heather to schedule it after prom night.”
“Oh my gosh!” Kate suddenly clasps her hands together. “I almost forgot, we need to get everyone’s RSVP. We still have a few left who didn’t submit. I need to know if they’re inviting outsiders or if they’re out of town or what.” She’s already about to open her door when I grab her hand again, my fingers closing in on her wrist as her eyes widen and she sits back down.
Just a little bit longer.
“Wait,” I say. “I have one here.” I pull an RSVP card out of my backpack.
“Who’s this from? Is it Emily? We all know she’s going with Josh—” Then she stops short when she sees her name on the card.
She blinks, trying to register what’s written there.
I got one of these cards yesterday and decided to be witty and write Kate’s name on the invitation list. On the “Attending with” section, I wrote “Hopefully her handsome neighbor Michael Lee.” I was about to drop these off later, but the moment called for it, so here I am.
Kate is speechless. “Are you… asking me to prom? We’re the committee,” she says, trying to hide her smile.
“Yes, I know, but will you actuallygowith me? I’ll get you a corsage and everything. We both had shitty proms, the least we can do is spend this one properly.”
Her eyes hover on the RSVP note, reading it one more time. “Sounds good,” she says as she smiles at me. “I’ll save you a dance,” she says with a chuckle.
“Just one?” I fake a pout. She laughs as she shakes her head and gets out of the car.
As I get out and walk to my house, I can’t help but think about how Kate is slowly shifting from someone I enjoy being around to someone I want tokeepin my life. I’ve never had that before. There was my grandma, once. But she’s gone now. After that, it’s just been Trish and Polly. And they’re family, yeah, but they’re not… this.
I like my teammates. I like the guys I train with, the people I text when something funny happens on the court. But I’ve never had the urge to tether myself to someone. To stay.
Sucks for me that all I have is two more weeks. I better make the most of it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Kate
Iwasn’t even this excited for my actual prom. Back then, I had a rented dress two sizes too big and a date who spent more time flirting with the next table than he did talking to me. My heels gave me blisters, my corsage wilted halfway through the night, and I remember sitting in Lily’s with my friends at the end of it all, wondering if something was wrong with me for not feeling like it was some magical, movie-worthy experience.
Yesterday, the four of us—Haley, Emily, Bon, and me—went dress shopping. Real dresses this time, ones we didn’t have to return by noon the next day. Emily and Bon kept gushing about how they finally get to go to prom with people they love. Haley, ever the cynic, rolled her eyes and muttered something like, “And I’m stuck with Richard again.” But the way her mouth twitched into a smile told me she didn’t really mind.
I, on the other hand, kept quiet. Let them laugh and swoon and try on glittery things while I smiled and nodded and tried not to let it show—that I was wondering what exactly was happening to me.
This crush, whatever it is… it’s not just a flutter anymore. It’s scarily evolving into something deeper. Is it love? How would I know? I’ve never actually been in love, have I? Never been the girl who was chosen, pursued, adored. Never been kissed just because someone couldn’t help it. Is this it?
I sigh. Right now, I’m focused on finishing off my hair, mostly to keep myself from spiraling. Emily’s behind me, fussing with the final pins. She somehow managed to tame my waves into a soft, romantic bun—neat but with a few wisps left loose on purpose.
“There,” she says with a proud smile, meeting my gaze in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Kate.” She’s standing behind me in a red dress that dips low in the back. She looks beautiful,as usual. Effortlessly radiant. The kind of woman people turn their heads for when she enters a room—twice, just to make sure they saw her right. I’ve always admired that about her. The way she’s picture-perfect without even trying.
I smile back, almost shyly, and slowly stand from the stool. My dress flows as I do, soft and weightless like I might float away. It’s a muted lavender, like my tattoo. The fabric is tulle and airy, layered like petals, cinched at the waist before it falls freely to my ankles. The hem is scattered with faded floral appliqués, like they’ve been pressed gently into the dress, pale pink and ivory blooming against the lavender. It makes me feel delicate. Soft. Beautiful, even.
“I feel like I’m playing dress-up,” I admit.
