Prom Queen of Disaster

by Joseph James Hunt

  “C’mon then,” I said to Kaleb, tugging his hand.

  The buzz of excitement made me sweat. I was glad I put on extra deodorant. Kaleb grabbed my sticky hand and smiled, he had a coral handkerchief in his top pocket, matching his tie. He pulled it out and gave me it to wipe my hands.

  “I’m the model boyfriend,” he said.

  We turned to lock eyes with Dylan, standing around with some other guys from the basketball team, beside them was Char and Ava. Char, no longer on her feet after taking her heels off to sit with a plate of food.

  “It’s funny,” I said, grabbing Kaleb’s hand to dance.

  “What?”

  “That I came out on top of all this,” I said. “Soon to be prom queen.”

  “You’ll always be my queen,” he said.

  With the right words at the right times. I felt nauseous, in a good way, if this had been Dylan, I would’ve felt comfortable and normal, because that’s how it was, but with Kaleb, I knew it was a struggle for him to say that. He wasn’t the most emotional person, and that made any expression special.

  I couldn’t help compare him to Dylan. He was the only person I could compare him with. Kaleb always came out on top. The things he said and the actions he carried out were worth more than any gift Dylan had ever given me.

  “Damn, I really love you,” he said.

  I took a couple fast hitched breaths. “I—I love you too,” I said, squeezing his hands in mine. “Love you more.”

  A wave of people flew past us. I turned to see Dylan charging for Kaleb, his palms clenched into fists. I pushed myself in front of Kaleb to stop him.

  “What are you doing?!” Dylan shouted. “Why are you here?” I’d thought he was speaking to me. I took a deep breath and before I could say a word. “Go on, Kaleb, what’s happened, quiet all of a sudden.”

  “What are you doing, Dylan?” I asked, pushing him on his chest. “You don’t have the right to come up to me and ask what we’re doing.”

  Kaleb kept quiet. I knew he was internalizing everything. I imagined him getting angrier. I reached behind for his hand, already in a fist and plied it apart with my fingers, pushing them into the palm of his hand. Dylan’s face flushed red as he puffed out of his nose.

  “Of everyone,” he said. “Him.”

  “Don’t be fucking ridiculous,” I said, slamming my hands into him again. “You slept with my best friend. Over everyone, you slept with her!”

  “It was an accident,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I laughed, the burning tears in my eyes threatened to fall if I dared stop laughing. “Your dick slipped out when she opened up her legs.”

  “You’re a joke,” Kaleb said. “Go somewhere else.”

  He turned away as we walked in opposite directions. Kaleb wrapped his arm around my shoulder as I dipped my head and took several deep breaths. I didn’t see what happened, but I felt his hands leave my back and shoulder. I noticed, several seconds later, Dylan dropped on the floor.

  “Don’t lie to her,” Kaleb said as Dylan groaned on the ground. “She’s worth more than that. Keep your hands to yourself.”

  I didn’t say a word. Kaleb wrapped an arm around my shoulder again and guided me to the punch bowl.

  “What happened?” I asked as he poured us both drinks.

  Mila joined me at the hip. “Oh my god,” she laughed.

  “I didn’t touch him,” Kaleb said.

  “He swung for you, Kaleb,” Mila said. “You’ve got cat-like reflexes, don’t cha.”

  The sweat of relief rolled across my brow. I’d expected the worst. The bloodied knuckles and bruised faces. “He put whatever force into that swing and it threw him to the floor,” he said. “Rookie mistake, I guess that’s a benefit of having older brothers to fight all the time.”

  Mila chuckled. “Crowning is in 15 minutes,” she said. “Prepare yourself.”

  I was already prepared. I’d been prepared for this since I was little. I locked eyes with Ava and Char sat in the corner, surrounded by their entourage of has-beens and wannabees.

  “Zo?” I heard a soft-spoken voice from behind.

  “Bex, hi,” I said, hugging her before taking a look at the beautiful blue and white dress she wore.

  “You know Char’s no longer on the team,” she said. I nodded. “Good, we miss hanging out with you. Of course, the season is over now, but I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I only left because of what happened. So, did you do anything nice with the prize money?”

  She raised and knitted her eyebrows together in thought. “Char wanted to use it on herself, because she’s fully pregnant now,” she snorted. “Mr. June put his foot down. But we had a retreat. It was nice, wish you could’ve been there.”

  I’d remembered something Libby mentioned. I’d wished I was there to destroy Char from within instead of Mila taking me in for whatever use she had.

  The band stopped playing. “If you could all make your way to the dance floor, we’re moments away from revealing your 2016 Prom King and Queen!”

  All four girls and all four guys took to the stage. The guys up for prom king were Benny, Dylan, Kaleb, and Rick; Mila’s boyfriend. We stood in a line as the awkward vibes were felt on and off the stage.

  Principal Sanders took the microphone. At either side of him there were two teachers holding the crowns and scepters.

  “Before I begin,” his voice screeched through the microphone. It was a loud static crackling through the speakers. I shuddered, plugging my ears with my fingers. “These are your nominated students before me, have been picked by you, they’re the best our 2016 student body has to offer. Apparently.”

  I took a deep breath clenching my hands by my side.

  “It’s with deep regret, I have been informed someone has tried to replace the ballot boxes to guarantee a win,” he said. “Zoey Jensen.” For a moment, I thought I’d won. “All votes under your name have been taken out, you tried to game the system. Please leave the stage.”

  Gasping, I snatched the microphone from Principal Sanders. “FYI. Char is a whore.” I handed him the microphone, glancing at Mila. She mouthed sorry. I walked off stage as Mila took the microphone.

  “Zoey approached me to replace all votes, she was going to pay me,” Mila said.

  Principal Sanders pulled the microphone from hand “You too. You’ve been disqualified after adding Rick’s name to the ballot. It turns out from the papers in the trash, he received only one vote.”

  Mila walked off stage, following me, her jaw lopsided and slack. I slapped her. “You’re just like Char,” I said. She didn’t reply or move. She held her cheek and watched the stage.

  “As for the two remaining girls, Ava and Charlotte. Someone came forward earlier this morning with some damning information. It turns out, you were responsible for spiking the punch at homecoming,” he said. “This is a disgrace. I hope you’re all pleased with yourselves.”

  Char and Ava walked off the opposite side of the stage. Char now moving in a waddle. She walked past the guys, trying to smile while they stood awkwardly. Waiting for instruction. Kaleb’s hands clenched in fists. They were beside each other, and next to Dylan was Benny, I could see him closing his eyes and trying to relax.

  “You can leave,” he turned to the guys. “We had runner-ups, so I’d like you to give a warm round of applause to the deserving king and queen of the 2016 Marin County High School prom. Libby Danforth and Jarred Pine!”

  They walked right by us up the stairs. I took a hold of Libby’s hand and smiled at her. “Good luck,” I said as the tears fell down her face.

  “Do you have any words to say?” Principal Sanders asked.

  Libby took the microphone as she was crowned. “As much as I love you guys, and I really do love you guys. I’m happy you destroyed each other.”

  Principal Sanders took the microphone back. “That’s one way to put it,” he laughed.

  “I thought
you were a decent person,” I said to Mila.

  She glared, her eyes red and glassy. If I hadn’t watched her sob for the past few minutes, I would’ve been convinced she was a stoner. “I tried,” she said. “I still got what I wanted.”

  Before I could slap her again, Kaleb took me away. “There you are,” he said, spinning me around in my dress and kissing me. “You know I told you, you’re my prom queen, even if you’re not theirs.”

  “You’re my king,” I said.

  We danced through the evening. Although we weren’t crowned, and nobody got to watch us in the center of the floor as he spun me around and I twirled into one of his arms. He held me close.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked, my head now on the lapel as the slow dance music started. He asked me again.

  “I don’t know, do you?”

  “The first time I saw you in the bar, I asked myself what the hell you were doing. You had that glow, and trust me, that’s a difficult feat to achieve in that cesspit,” he laughed. “But the first time I saw you, I wanted to kiss you.”

  “The body wants what it wants,” I said. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive, but I was with Dylan then. And we know how that went.”

  “If we could go back, knowing what you know now, would you kiss me?”

  “You wouldn’t have to ask me twice,” I said, lifting my head from his shoulder to kiss him. “That’s probably why I pretended to hate you.”

  “Pretend?” he laughed. “I thought it was some weird foreplay.”

  I playfully slapped his chest. “Fine, I really did hate you. But if we could go back, and I could be with you, maybe we’d be in those crowns.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “You know you’d planned everything for so long?” I nodded. “Because, I booked us a hotel room, and it overlooks the ocean. But it’s about 30 minutes from here.” He stroked circles on my skin. “We don’t have to go.”

  “No,” I said. “That’s perfect.” Tears bubbled in my eyes. “Damnit, my makeup is gone to shit now.” I laughed.

  “Do you regret what you did?”

  “Tonight?”

  He nodded. “I don’t want you to live with regrets.”

  I smiled. “I regret trusting them, but they gave me the option and we played each other.” We danced and twirled some more.

  “I have a car outside now,” he said, kissing me. “We don’t have to stay here. They’ve crowned the king and queen, we’ve taken our pictures, and Dylan almost knocked himself out. What more could you want?”

  I kissed him. “You.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  As disappointed as anyone who’d been disqualified from being prom queen, I was at least upbeat about finals. With graduation only a few weeks away, I had a few exams to study for, and an art exhibition in the city—turned out, they approved it for the gallery over the school hall.

  Most periods at school were dedicated to study hall. I’d been helping Kaleb study for his GED as well, after finding out he could get into college if he passed his GED with an excellent personal essay, which he would, through everything life’s thrown at him, there were no excuses, he’d have something to tell them.

  I went home for lunch, especially with the amount of free time I had. I couldn’t keep myself in the stuffy library. My dad sat around the table at home with a letter in his hands. The debate over whether or not to open it was in his eyes.

  “Zoey,” he said. “Home early?”

  “Come to grab some lunch, and my English books,” I said, eyeing the letter. “Who’s that from?”

  He stumbled over his words before handing it over. “UCLA,” he said.

  “Shut up! Did you open it?”

  He shook his head. “I wanted to,” he chuckled. “Fingers crossed. Gonna open it now?”

  I didn’t want to. I wanted to go upstairs, sit on the floor and open it carefully. To read the letter completely before any of it sunk it. “Yeah,” I said, weakly.

  “Go on,” he laughed nervously.

  I nodded. The peaceful setting I’d laid out for myself disappeared and I tore the letter open. It went flying over the table. “Dear Zoey Jensen, Congratulations,” I said, stopping to take a breath. “Oh—oh, oh my god.” I handed it over to my dad.

  “We are pleased to inform you of your admission to the University of California, Los Angeles, within the school of arts and architecture for the fall semester, 2016,” he said, handing the letter over. “You’re going to UCLA!”

  I was crying. I slumped into the seat. After everything this year, I was just happy to have my first choice school.

  “I’ll let you tell your mom,” he said.

  I wiped my eyes. “She’ll probably get it out of you, or I’ll cry and won’t be able to get it out.” I wrapped my arms around him.

  “And we’re looking forward to the gallery opening,” he said. “We’re so proud of you.”

  They’d finally planned to attend something I was doing. Of course, I wasn’t going to be in any revealing clothes or jumping around for anyone’s attention or amusement.

  “Thanks dad.” I hugged him again.

  I grabbed lunch, re-reading the letter before collecting things I needed to study. On the way back, I called my mom to tell her the news, with the acceptance letter sitting on the passenger seat of the car. I pulled to a stop in the parking lot at school and phoned her several times before she finally picked up.

  “Honey, what’s wrong,” she asked.

  I burst out in tears again. “I got into UCLA,” I said.

  She screamed. “Oh my god, that’s amazing,” she said. “We’ll have to celebrate. I’ll have to invite everyone over. I have to tell the neighbors. We’re going to need banners and oh my god, that’s amazing, Zoey.”

  “Thanks, mom,” I giggled. If I didn’t know where my dramatic side came from, my mom was a pretty good indicator.

  “Does your dad know?”

  “Yeah, he was there when I opened it.”

  She controlled herself, hyperventilating down the phone. “I’m so happy for you. After everything that’s happened. You’ll be leaving it all behind soon.”

  “Still a few weeks until graduation,” I said.

  “Okay, hon,” she said. “I need to get back. I thought you were in trouble.” She laughed.

  Study hall was for quiet study only, so I texted Kaleb to meet me by the lockers. He rushed out, worried. I stood, frantically with the letter in my hands.

  “I got in,” I said.

  “You did?” He smushed his face up at mine with a kiss. “That’s UCLA, right?”

  I nodded. I’d read the letter at least ten times now, they’d taken the time to look through the portfolio I’d supplied and the personal statement I’d attached. “They liked my work ethic and believe I’ll be an asset to the course.”

  He kissed me again. “Good,” he said. “Even if I don’t get in, at least you’ll be in the same state, maybe I’ll get a job and do some open courses, but I’ll still be able to see you.”

  We walked back into the study hall holding hands with the largest grin on our faces. I couldn’t tell anyone why, except I could, and within moments I’d posted it online, several times over in excitement. Alongside the quiet study rule, there was also a strong no phone policy, but it was rarely enforced.

  “How many practice papers have you done now?” I whispered to Kaleb between the stacks of work books.

  “Social studies keeps getting me,” he said. “I got the mathematics, science, and language arts down, well I passed them, six times out of seven.”

  To pass the GED, you had to pass each section. If any section was to fail, the test itself was considered a fail. I wasn’t sure if I could’ve been any help with social studies; history, geography, and politics had never been my strong suit.

  “What if I write you some flash cards from the books,” I said, pulling his books to me.

  “No, you’ve got your studying to do,” he
said, taking his books back.

  “Let me help,” I said. “This is what I do before exams.” I took the books back, this time without any objection.

  His GED was before my finals, and I had a place at UCLA, although it didn’t mean I could slack, it did mean I didn’t have to stress over finals uncertain about my future, not in the way I felt Kaleb was.

  My mom wasn’t lying about inviting the neighbors over. She’d been grocery shopping especially for it, setting the dining room table with sandwiches and savory food snacks. As I walked in, a few of my neighbors were there to congratulate me, and following that, Libby and Hannah walked in.

  “Congrats, Zo,” Hannah said, hugging me. “I saw the post, I’m still waiting on mine, but I’m planning on going out of state.”

  “Nursing?”

  “Yeah. In medicine,” she laughed.

  “Are you still coming to the gallery opening next week?” I asked.

  “I am, definitely,” Libby said. “I’m bringing, Jarred, is that okay?”

  “Yeah, bring everyone,” I said. “I’m worried nobody will show.”

  “Well I’ll bring Max,” Hannah said.

  My art teachers even showed up at my house, it must’ve been a teacher thing to contact all other teachers, even when they’d only met in passing at a parent teacher meeting. Mr. June, my former cheerleading coach showed up with Mrs. Jennings, now an item, and both of my art teachers, Mrs. Galloway and Mr. Brooks.

  Being around so many people was exhausting. I laid in bed with Oreo as he stole most of the pillow. I stared up at the moonlit ceiling, wishing my life away, wishing for time to move faster; to graduate, to move to the college campus and have Kaleb with me, I wished for so much. I’d begged myself to forget the past and only think about the future, but the past was the person I’d been, and the future was the person I would become. Right now, I was a work in progress.

  Most nights I helped Kaleb study. He was getting there, each one was a different length, and two of them over two hours. They were split up over two days.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” I told him, again and again. “I believe in you.” It’s like he’d never heard those words before. I didn’t doubt that. He smiled when I told him how much I believed in him.