Prom-Wrecked

by T. H. Hernandez

  She leads me over to the keg, where we run into the former committee chairperson. “How’s prom committee?” asks Tristan Fleming, stepping in front of a group of soccer guys. His lips curve into a false smile.

  I hesitate, unsure how to answer the question. “So far, we’re managing.”

  “Riley Hart, prom superstar,” he says, drawing out my name. “She swoops in and saves the day for all of us.”

  Why is he roasting me in front of everyone? Does he really think I wanted this? All the attention? “Nothing’s final—not yet,” I say in a low voice. Organizing prom is hard work, and he should know better than anyone else.

  Jane notices Tristan’s glaring and hooks her arm through mine, tugging me away while Jeremy smiles and hands me a filled plastic cup. “Thanks for stepping up, Riley. Our prom should be the best night ever.”

  I take a sip of beer and force myself to swallow. While Owen and I have been friends forever, Jeremy only moved to Hamilton last year. Other than Owen mentioning him once in a while when he’s talking about baseball, I don’t really know much about him.

  “It’ll be killer,” Jane chimes in, and even in the dark, I see her eyelashes batting behind her glasses.

  Jeremy throws her a quick grin before turning back to me. “Tell Owen to give me a shout if you need help with setup.”

  As if he heard his name, Owen materializes by my side, clapping Jeremy on the back, then fist-bumping his friend. “Riley? Why are you hanging out with this loser?”

  “I’m not. I’m here with Jane. But Jeremy offered to help us with the prom committee.” I look at Jeremy. “Sorry, I should’ve also said that you’re not a loser.”

  Jeremy laughs. “Thanks for sticking up for me, but Owen knows I’m the guy who carries the team. Right?”

  “Definitely,” Owen agrees. “We wouldn’t have won yesterday without your clutch hitting.” He slides closer to me, a curious expression on his face, like he can’t quite make out the scene in front of him. “Did you need help with something, Riley? Something I don’t know about?”

  I shift away from him while checking the crowd for Catherine. Or Hunter. Or any of the cheer girls. “I can’t think of anything in particular, except for the barn cleaning tomorrow.”

  “What’s the barn for?” Jeremy asks me.

  “It’s our new prom site. We decided not to go back to the stuffy country club this year.”

  There’s a long pause as Jeremy mulls over this change in plan.

  I cut my eyes over to Owen, and he shrugs. I never considered how people would react to learning that the most special night of their lives (thus far) would be held on a farm. Turning my attention back to Jeremy, I say, “A group of us are heading out there tomorrow to check out the scene and decide how we’re going to set everything up on prom night. You’re welcome to join us, if you want to help.”

  “A barn, huh?” Jeremy bunches up his lips and bobs his head. “That could work. A few cows in the background will set the moo-ood.”

  Jane and I crack up at the terrible joke. Beside me, Owen shakes his head, refusing to admit that Jeremy is actually pretty funny. One of the girls by the firepit calls to Jane, and she ditches me without a second glance.

  Jeremy steps around the keg, moving closer. Moonlight shines over his face, illuminating his long eyelashes and light brown eyes with a faint golden glow. His hair is a lighter brown than Owen’s, shaved on the sides but left longer on top. One side of Jeremy’s mouth tilts up into a smile. “I’m free tomorrow, so count me in. Need a ride?”

  “She’s riding with me,” Owen says before I can answer.

  “Realllllllly?” Jeremy asks. “What’s Queen Cat gonna say about that?”

  Owen flips his empty cup to Jeremy, who refills it as he says, “I’ll be there, Riley. If you need a ride, shoot me a text. Jane has my number.”

  After Jeremy saunters off to join the glow-in-the-dark frisbee game, I turn to Owen, throwing my arms into the air. “Why did you say that? You know I’m not riding with you. I’m picking up Desmond tomorrow morning at eight.”

  “I was helping you out,” Owen says, his eyes darting away from me. “You need to stay away from J.D. He’s cool and all, but not the right guy for you.”

  “Oh, and you’re an expert on the best guys for me? Good, because I must need some kind of help. Other than you, no guys ever talk to me long enough for me to make that decision on my own.”

  Owen eyes me with surprise. “Do you not want me to talk to you anymore? Because of something Hunter said?”

  A round of called-out hellos draws my attention to Jessa, Bryan, and Hannah snaking through the crowd, heading toward us. Just what I need, more of Catherine’s friends spotting me alone with Owen.

  I aim a sharp look at Owen. “You have a girlfriend. Why aren’t you talking to her?”

  He frowns. “She had something to do tonight.”

  So what am I, backup entertainment when Cat’s not available? That will get me exactly nowhere when it comes to finding a prom date. And if Hunter hears about me and Owen having private conversations in a dark corner at Jeremy’s party, she’ll definitely say something to Catherine. I turn so we’re no longer facing each other and talk out of the side of my mouth. “I want to go to prom this year, Owen. I missed it last year, and this is my last chance. Please…don’t ruin it for me.” My voice breaks. Super. Now Owen knows exactly how desperate I am to find a date. As someone who’s never had trouble finding a partner, he must think I’m a complete loser. Disgusted with myself, I leave him by the keg and head over to Jane. When I glance back, I’m shocked by the hurt flashing on Owen’s face before he lifts his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and sets off in the opposite direction.

  I don’t see him again for the rest of the night.

  “I hate cleaning,” Desmond says when he throws open his front door and finds me waiting for him.

  “I know. That’s why I’m picking you up before you call and tell me how sick you are.”

  His old work boots thunk against the driveway as he plods over to my car and jerks the door open, scowling. “I wanted to claim a family emergency.”

  “Nice try. Very unoriginal.”

  He continues to grumble for the entire twenty-minute drive.

  “Look at the big picture,” I say. “If we get through the next few hours, book your grandpa’s band, and find a caterer, we’ll be ready to announce that prom is happening. You can finally ask Carrie to go with you.”

  “But why are we cleaning? I thought you paid to use this place.”

  “At a significant discount. Mrs. Cleary said she won’t do anything to fix it up, other than provide tables and chairs. I need to clean and move the farm equipment out of the way before I can measure the space to make sure we have enough room for a dance floor. I don’t want to wait until the week before prom. You know I’m not a last-minute person, Des.”

  We arrive at the barn, and I push open the heavy wood doors.

  “Whoa. This place is a festering hellhole of my future prom nightmares,” Desmond says, eyeing the rusted assortment of farm equipment sprawled out on what I hope will eventually become a dance floor.

  I dig my elbow into his side. “Because you lack the proper vision. Picture the stage along the back wall and a dance floor here.” I twirl in the middle of the hay-covered floor.

  Desmond appears skeptical, tapping his fingers against the side of his jeans as he takes in the entire setup. “So, where do we start?”

  “We move all the non-prom stuff out of here and clean this place up a bit.” Coughing my way through the dust-filled air, I find the supply closet unlocked and shine my flashlight inside, searching for cleaning supplies.

  “Please tell me there’s electricity in this place.” Desmond flips a light switch, with zero results.

  “There will be. The owner said she has some sort of generator she can hook up for us.” I back out of the closet and pass him a broom. “Start sweeping the entryway.”

  He gr
umbles under his breath, letting me know how unhappy he is. Ignoring his griping, I fill a bucket with water from the sink, grab a rag, and attempt to scrub the layers of grime off the walls. Light creeps through scattered holes in the weathered barnwood, and the scent of long-gone animals lingers in the air. I add air freshener to my list of prom supplies.

  Before he starts sweeping, Desmond checks out the bathrooms and reports back to me. “They’re heinous. Who’s cleaning in there?”

  “We could bring in porta-potties.” I write it down on my list. “But girls won’t like using a porta-potty in a prom dress.”

  “If the alternative is braving the scummiest indoor plumbing on earth, they would,” Desmond shoots back.

  Outside, the familiar growl of Owen’s Jeep grows louder before coming to a sudden stop.

  “We’re here to work!” Owen announces, storming in like he’s leading a revolution. Behind him, Catherine pauses in the doorway, wincing. Owen reaches back and grabs her hand. Jeremy follows, along with a few other baseball guys and a group of cheerleaders.

  “Here. I wrote up a list of what needs to get done,” I say, handing it to Owen.

  He reads it over and hands it back to me. “You’re in charge. Tell us what to do.”

  Oh, great. Now everyone’s looking at me. I wheeze a breath through the coating of dust in my throat. Owen grabs a chair from a stack along the back wall and motions for me to stand on it. I step up and call everyone to attention. “Thanks for coming today. Jeremy and Owen, can you move the farm equipment to the storage area in the back?” I point to a metal cart filled with rakes and pitchforks. “Desmond, take a break from sweeping and work on wiping down the tables and chairs. The rest of us can dust and mop.”

  Ten minutes later, everyone’s busy working when Jordon Oswald strolls in. Before I can think of a job for him, Catherine waves him over, and they speak to each other in low voices. Meanwhile, Owen and the baseball guys finish storing the farm equipment much faster than I’d anticipated.

  “What’s next, boss?” Owen appears beside me.

  I hand him a measuring tape. “Can you write down the room specs so I can figure out how to place the tables? Also, we’ll need space for a dance floor.”

  “On it. Everything else okay so far?”

  “Yeah.” I run my hand through my hair and wiggle my shoulders. “Other than constantly feeling like I’m walking into cobwebs.”

  One corner of Owen’s mouth tips higher. “You know what happens next. Just like that time we got stuck in a slime storm in Immortal Quest. Shake it out.” Imitating his Immortal Quest character, he bobs his head back and forth, then follows it up with a horrendous dance move. A burst of laughter escapes me. Everyone stops working and turns to us. I practically feel Catherine’s eyes burning a hole in my head.

  I thrust my body backward, and in my rush to add distance between Owen and me, I bump into Jordon. “Oh, hey, are you finished?” I ask him, the words sounding harsher than I intended.

  He blinks several times and adjusts his glasses. “I haven’t started. What can I do?”

  I point to a mop. “Follow the girls with the brooms. And if you can think of some way to set up a stage, you’ll automatically be added to my list of favorite people.”

  “I could talk to the stage crew about bringing in lighting and a temporary stage,” Jordon offers.

  “Jordon! That would be so awesome. Just let me know if they have questions. I’d be happy to call the faculty director and beg for free stage crew services.” He relaxes into a shy smile, and I really look at him for the first time. Jordon is cute, with his big brown eyes and dark blond hair. He’s easily the tallest guy in the room, but he moves with such a quiet confidence that I’d never noticed his height before. Because we hang out with different crowds—Jordon: drama, Me: Desmond and Jane—Jordon is one of those people who usually fades into the woodwork of my brain. But he’s coming through for me now, so I throw my arms around him for a quick hug. “I’m so happy you volunteered to help with the prom committee.”

  His smile weakens, and he looks like he might pass out from the force of my over-enthusiastic embrace. “It’s all good. We’re having fun, right?”

  “Definitely. Tons of fun.” I leave him, mop in hand, ready to assign another job to Desmond, who’s currently napping after setting up a makeshift sleep spot on top of a line of folding chairs. Across the future dance floor, I notice Jeremy watching me with an amused expression. We exchange smiles, like we’re sharing private information, although I have no clue what we’re really saying to each other.

  And standing behind Jeremy, Owen looks on, as if he’s stunned by the realization that someone might actually consider me as something besides a gaming partner. Whatever. As far as I know, Jordon and Jeremy are both available. Maybe I’ll find a prom date sooner than I thought.

  I might even check out some prom dress ideas online, just in case.

  Chapter Nine

  Catherine

  Six weeks until prom

  Once the last of the cleaning supplies has been packed away, I’m ready to leave, but Owen’s still messing around with Jeremy. The odor of sweat and animal coats my skin, and I need a shower. Bad. I run my hands through my hair a few times, dislodging a few pieces of straw.

  “You need to watch out for that Riley chick,” Hunter says, coming up beside me.

  My blood turns to ice in my veins. This is what I’ve been terrified of all along. As much as Hunter knows me, she doesn’t know how awful I was to Riley in middle school. I’m not sure she’d be my friend if she knew. I swallow hard and turn to face her. “Um, why?”

  “’Cause she’s got eyes for your boy.”

  Okay, so Riley was getting pretty chummy with Jordon, but it’s not like I have any designs on him. Sure, we’ve been hanging out more lately, and I discovered that in addition to being cute, he’s funny and apparently honest, at least according to him.

  “What? We’re just friends. Okay, he’s mildly attractive in a nerd-hot kinda way, but still.”

  “Who?”

  “Jordon?”

  “The drama dork?” She starts laughing. “No, although…” She turns to glance at me, tapping her chin with her index finger as my cheeks burn. “We’re going to have to dissect that statement real soon. I’m talking about your boyfriend. I’m not saying Owen would ever cheat on you, but Riley looks at him like he’s lunch and she’s starving.”

  My attention is drawn to Riley across the barn as she sneaks peeks at Owen. She’s known him nearly as long as I have. Could she have an unrequited crush on him? It’s not the craziest thing ever. I mean, Owen’s a catch, but he’s with me, and, as far as she knows, we’re the perfect couple. I know they’re still friends, because Owen would never abandon someone due to peer pressure, but I doubt he sees her outside of school any more than I do.

  Hunter grabs my arm, dragging my attention away from Riley. “I’m telling you this because I think you need to be careful. She rocks that whole girl-next-door vibe, plus, she’s got this vulnerable thing that some guys are really drawn to. Some girls, too,” she says with a playful smirk.

  My gaze shifts to Owen. He and Jeremy are punching each other on the other side of the barn and laughing like they’re six years old instead of almost eighteen. Could he be into Riley? Again, not the craziest idea. She’s fun, smart, cute. And loyal, unlike me.

  Hunter glances at her phone. “I gotta go.” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze and pockets her phone. “Talk to you later.”

  I turn back toward Owen, ready to drag him out of here, when my phone buzzes with a text.

  Jordon: All set for tomorrow

  Catherine: What time?

  Jordon: Any time after 7:30. Can you get out of the house?

  Catherine: I’ll come up with something

  I slip my phone into my back pocket and return my attention to Riley, who’s talking to some dark-haired band guy, Duncan, I think. Riley and I were once inseparable, until my “friends” dee
med her to be an anchor to our rising balloon of popularity in eighth grade. They said either she was out of the group or we both were. Jessa couldn’t even be bothered to come help out today. She said barn cleaning wasn’t for her. And here’s Riley organizing the whole messy operation.

  Not for the first time, I realize I made the wrong choice all those years ago.

  Riley lifts her head, as if she can feel me staring, and looks straight at me. I lift my chin a little higher, refusing to glance away first. She holds my gaze for a few seconds before turning back to Duncan, or is it Derrick? But within a few seconds, she’s stealing glances at Owen again.

  Maybe Hunter’s right. I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on her. The perfect revenge against a former BFF—steal her boyfriend before prom.

  “The barn was a bigger dump than I expected,” I say. “I was thinking rustic and charming, but it was just…old and smelly. I don’t see any way to make it charming.”

  Owen is quiet, focusing on the road.

  “Owen?”

  “Huh?” He shakes his head and gives me a lazy grin. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what? If it’s got you that wrapped up, maybe it’ll help to talk about it.”

  “I…think we should break up.”

  My throat suddenly feels as if I haven’t had any water in days. I struggle to make a sound travel through my dry throat. I mean, I knew this was coming. Heck, I’ve been thinking our days as the darlings of Hamilton High are numbered, but not until later. In the future. After prom.

  “Cat?” Owen’s voice is strained, like he’s worried he broke me.

  I put a hand on his arm. “Pull over. We shouldn’t have this conversation while you’re driving.”

  He eases his Jeep to the side of the road and cuts the engine before turning to face me.

  “Is this about Riley?”

  Color creeps up his neck, but he gives his head a hard shake. “What? No. No!” He swallows and glances at his knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel. “Of course not.”