Things haven’t been the same with Jesse since our “incident.” Okay, fine. Kiss. He’d swear up and down that he’s not avoiding me, but I know he is. Besides our morning drives to school, we barely see each other. I’ve tried suggesting that we hang out, texted numerous times, but he’s always busy with one excuse or another: basketball practice, basketball games, hanging with Phillip, or spending time with his new girlfriend—Heather “Hoe Bag” Plum. Oh, yeah, did I mention that they’re dating? Please stand aside while I congratulate the happy couple. Not.

The last few months of high school pass with us doing our own thing. I try to convince myself that I’m happy, that I don’t miss him, that I enjoy spending time with Tod as much as I do Jesse, but I’d be lying. And no one likes a liar.

One drizzly Friday morning on our way to school, a week before prom tickets are scheduled to go on sale, I finally work up the courage to ask Jesse about prom. We agreed that we’d go together no matter what, but with me dating Tod and him dating Heather, I knew the plan was bound to change.

“About prom?” I ask, my voice tinged with nerves.

He keeps his eyes on the road, but his grip tightens around the steering wheel. “What about it?”

I glance to him then back out the passenger window. “Are you going with Heather?”

He pins me with his gaze and fires back. “Are you going with Tod?”

I pick at a hangnail on my index finger and say, “He asked me, yeah.”

Jesse shrugs his shoulders and grunts, and I so desperately long for him to say, “You and I are going together. It’s our thing. We promised.” But he says none of that, just shrugs his shoulders again, and I read it as dismissal.

A cool, dark feeling, much like jealousy stirs in my body, slowly at first, just a whisper of breath, but eventually gaining momentum like a rolling rock. How dare he? He was supposed to be my date! Never mind that I had already reneged on my part of the deal.

And later the following week, when Tod and I purchase our tickets during study hall, I see the curly handwriting scrawled next to ticket numbers eighty-one and eighty-two: Heather Plum and Jesse Collins.

* * *

If this were a fairytale, now would be the time when I’d tell you that I went to prom with Jesse. That we made up, reconciled our differences, and lived happily ever after. Blah. Blah. Blah.

But this isn’t a fairytale, which explains why I’m sitting at the same table as Jesse and his date, Heather. Yep, that’s right. Even though it doesn’t feel like it these days, we are best friends, so it was more or less expected that we share a table, the reserved party bus, and the rented beach house for the weekend.

My mind wanders to when Jesse had promised me four years ago, at the start of high school, that no matter what, we’d be each other’s prom dates. The pact stemmed from my insecurity and underlying fear that no one—much less a cute boy—would ask me to prom.

Things change, I guess, but when Tod asked me, Jesse’s face was the first image to pop to mind. I agreed, of course, but a sick feeling coiled low in my belly, and I found myself nervous to tell Jesse that I’d accepted Tod’s “promposal.” Ridiculous, I know, because Tod and I had been dating well over five months.

Tod’s sweaty palm on my thigh rouses me back to the present. He squeezes not so gently. “I can’t wait for tonight.” Real subtle, Tod.

“Uh-huh,” I murmur, as I watch Jesse laugh at something that Hoe Bag says that I can’t quite make out. Don’t give me that look. It’s not like I call her Hoe Bag to her face.

I know I should be more focused on, more excited about tonight. About losing my virginity. To Tod. But I’m not.

I’m not excited. Or scared. Or nervous.

I’m…nothing.

In fact, I wish it were Jesse and me. Not having sex—God, no—but just spending the night together, ordering a pizza. Watching Netflix.

Jesse catches my stare, and I swear it’s like he sees right through me. His gaze is intense, and in it I read so many emotions. Sadness. Hurt. Resignation.

Tod grabs my hand and pulls me up. “Come on, babe. Let’s dance.” Translation: Give me an excuse to put my hands inappropriately all over you in a public place. He’s always been handsy, but lately, it’s getting on my nerves more than ever.

“Okay.” I turn away from Jesse, and just like that, the spell is broken.

By 11:00 p.m. I’m exhausted and my feet ache from where my cheap, too-tight leather shoes pinch my toes together. The DJ announces the next song; “Good Riddance” by Green Day will be the last song of the night. All couples rush to the dance floor, and the school photographer circles the perimeter to snap pictures of the happy couples.

Tod and I follow the crowd, but not even thirty seconds into the song, Jesse taps Tod’s shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?”

Tod’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “Actually, I do.”

The clenching of Jesse’s jaw is imperceptible to someone who doesn’t know him well, which is why Tod continues on, his voice condescending, “Dance with your own girlfriend.”

My eyes find Jesse’s and hold for a beat. “I’m sorry,” I say but he shakes his head and walks away.

I want to chase after him, to tell him I’d much rather be at prom with him, dancing and laughing with him. But Tod tightens his grip on my waist and pulls me closer. My eyes search the packed dance floor for Jesse. I find him and Heather almost instantly; they’re nestled in the far corner, swaying to the music.

God, everything is such a mess. I miss my friend. Will Jesse and I be able to patch up our friendship?

Sighing, I rest my head on Tod’s shoulder and close my eyes to stop my tears, because in this moment, it feels like Jesse’s gone for good.