22

After our conversation about the promposal ended, I walked toward my locker to find a commotion in one of the junior halls. Girls were clustered near a row of lockers, squee-ing and OMG-ing and being generally shrill and annoying.

“Who did it?” one of them squealed.

“It’s so pretty!” cooed another.

I craned my neck to see what they were talking about. At the center of the fuss stood Sara Mendez, grinning from ear to ear. Her locker door had been wrapped in shimmery, white wrapping paper and dotted with silky, red bows. White rose petals were scattered all over the floor, and inside the door, a single white rose had been taped up next to diagonal green and red letters that spelled out Winter Formal?

The crowd buzzed louder and grew larger with each passing second. A moment later, they let up a collective shriek as one of the girls gasped and pointed down the hall. There at the end stood Jordan, holding a white rose that matched the one in Sara’s locker and wearing a cocky, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“What do you say?” he asked Sara.

Only he could barely be heard over the screaming and clapping of what seemed like every junior girl in the school. You would’ve thought they’d discovered a freaking boy band concert in the middle of the hall. I actually had to cover my ears to protect my hearing, which was probably why TJ tapped me on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?” he yelled.

I pointed to Sara’s locker, knowing it was pointless to try and make myself heard.

She moved through the crowd, nodding her head, her hands covering her cheeks, though I didn’t know why. From where I stood, I didn’t see a trace of blushing. If she wasn’t relishing every bit of this attention, I’d eat my own foot.

When she reached Jordan, Sara nodded again and said yes. He wrapped his arms around her in a big bear hug. That’s when I noticed one of Jordan’s friends in the corner, recording the whole thing.

TJ leaned closer to my ear. “Guess Jordan couldn’t wait for Friday.”

I shook my head. Apparently, whatever the senior and junior guys had planned for Friday wasn’t good enough for Jordan. He’d had to find a way to top it, to beat them to the punch. I wasn’t surprised.

Sometimes he reminded me a lot of Kendall.

• • •

It took a little nudging to persuade Kendall that it didn’t matter if we were seen together now that she and TJ were broken up. She only agreed when I pointed out that TJ would be nowhere near Waterside, and it no longer mattered if anyone else recognized her while we were together.

Still, I’m sure she was as disappointed as I was surprised when the restaurant door opened, bringing with it a blast of cold air and a pink-cheeked Charlie. I scooted out of the red vinyl booth that Kendall and I were sharing while we waited for our pizza.

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

“What are you talking about?” She knitted her brow as she took off her gloves. “Your brother told me to meet you guys here.”

“He did? But he’s not—”

I cut myself off as I realized what was happening. Nick had told me he was “hanging out with some kids” after school and didn’t need a ride. When I’d tried to get more details, he’d mumbled unintelligibly and walked off.

Now I understood. Nick was part of the promposal. Charlie was about to get asked to the Herring Cross winter formal.

And I was covering it for the yearbook.

“Um, he’s not here yet. One of his friends should be dropping him off any minute. They had…some after-school thing. Anyway, sit down.” I motioned toward the booth, ignoring the fact that she was looking at me like I had an extra limb growing out of my head. Her expression hardened when she spotted Kendall, and under my breath, I added, “Be nice.”

“Hey,” Charlie said, shooting a stiff smile at Kendall.

Kendall sat on her hands. “Hey. Sorry I’ve been taking up so much of Marisa’s time lately. I’m not trying to steal her from you, I swear.” Her gaze shifted over to me and she grinned warmly. “Hopefully we can share.”

“I’m sorry to hear about you and TJ,” Charlie said. “What happened?”

Kendall squirmed in her seat and I fought the urge to do the same. I hadn’t breathed a word about kissing TJ, not even to Charlie. I couldn’t bring myself to say what had happened out loud. It would only raise questions I didn’t have answers to.

“I don’t know exactly.” Kendall picked at her napkin. “I mean, I know our relationship wasn’t perfect, or I wouldn’t have needed Marisa’s help, but I thought we could fix it. He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“Sorry. That sucks.”

I cringed. Charlie’s genuine sensitivity was top notch, but her phony stuff needed a buttload of work. I almost couldn’t blame Kendall for seizing the opportunity to hit below the belt.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to hear about your drama too. I hope you don’t get kicked out of school.”

Charlie glared at me. My jaw dropped in indignation. “I didn’t say a word!”

Our waitress came with our pizza then, and Kendall picked a long string of cheese off a slice and dropped it into her mouth. “Everybody in the honors program knows.”

“For the record, I didn’t steal those answer sheets, which anybody who knows me would never question. And I’m not getting kicked out of school.” Charlie snatched her napkin from her lap and threw it on the table. “Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“I probably shouldn’t have said that if I want her to stop hating me,” Kendall said as Charlie cleared hearing range.

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s a sore subject, that’s all. She’s really upset about it.”

“Of course she is. It’s a huge accusation. No one expects someone like her to go rogue.”

“Um, right. Because she didn’t.” Kendall shrugged and I couldn’t believe I had to defend something as obvious as Charlie’s innocence for the second time in less than two weeks. It irked me, but I didn’t have the right to be angry with Kendall at the moment. Not after what I’d done.

I knew if I ever wanted to have a clear conscience again, I needed to tell Kendall about what happened between me and TJ. I couldn’t stand keeping the secret inside for one more second.

My heart thundered. My mouth opened. And then the sound of blaring horns, hoots, and hollers sounded in the distance, growing louder and louder. I looked out the window. A line of cars zigzagged into the parking lot, swerving through the empty spaces with boys from school hanging out windows, waving their arms and yelping. Silver, red, and green tinsel and paint decorated their cars, and the words WINTER FORMAL? were written on every windshield. The same hip-hop song blasted from every car, slightly out of sync, but not enough to muddle the lyrics: I want you to say yes/And I’m gonna say yes/I want you to say yes. Squeals rose up around us.

Charlie came out of the bathroom looking bewildered. “What’s going on?”

I scooted out of the booth with yearbook’s expensive camera and my purse and grabbed the sleeve of her coat. “Come on. You’re about to find out.”

We made our way onto the sidewalk with the rest of the crowd, and I elbowed my way to the front to get some pictures for yearbook. The cars parked in a V formation, like a flock of decorated metal birds, and in each corner of the lot stood someone with a cell phone. When all the cars had parked, one person got out of each car holding white poster board in his hands. They climbed atop the roof of their cars and laid the poster board down.

One of the guys was my brother. I’d always known Nick was a good dancer, but two seconds later when they broke into a choreographed dance number, I discovered the boy could move.

The fact that only a couple of the other guys didn’t look like bumbling idiots had no bearing on the level of copious screaming and squealing and clapping around me. Even Kendall had a big smile on her face. It was kind of hard not to. Especially when the song reached its last chorus, and the rest of the boys emerged from the cars and climbed onto the hoods and roofs. They shook their asses to the final notes, and then everyone grabbed their pieces of poster board and held it high in the air. Each card had a name written on it with a question mark. With their other hands, they pointed to the words WINTER FORMAL? on their cars’ windshields.

Nick’s card, of course, said CHARLOTTE?

She jumped up and down, laughing and clapping. I had to laugh too—until she turned to me and her face fell. “What?” I asked, suddenly afraid she was about to embarrass my brother by saying no. “Do you not want to—” But she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking past me. I followed her horrified gaze over my shoulder. It was trained on Kendall.

And Kendall’s dumbfounded stare was fixed on the back of the formation of cars, where TJ stood atop the roof of a Nissan, holding a piece of poster board with my name on it.