Elin deserved to be prom queen—that way, she’d look back on her senior year and have something to think about besides hospitalization and bad grades. But I’d like to see Hannah or Sings Praises, who dropped Computer Science after a whopping two days, prove that shit. I’d programmed the app for prom royalty voting in class last quarter and simply gone back and re-coded it so as long as no candidate won a majority of the vote, every candidate who got less than ten percent of the vote registered as a vote for Elin.
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m going to tell Josh that we need to skip the crowning,” she threatened.
My cheeks were probably well on their way to matching my dress in color, but I didn’t care. I took a few steps toward Hannah and Sings Praises, and they retreated, pressing back against the stalls. “Crowning is prom tradition, Hannah,” I said, my voice low. “You can’t forgo it. Besides, if you talk to Josh about this, he’s just going to ask me what to do, so what is the point?”
Hannah’s resolve was starting to crumble—I could see the defeat in her eyes.
A lightning bolt of pain shot through my skull.
The sophomore at the sink was still washing her hands, listening to every word we were saying. My face twitched. “Could you finish washing your hands and turn that water the fuck off, already?” I snapped, turning to the mirror and pulling the bobby pins out of my hair. This hairstyle must be pulling my scalp too tight.
The sophomore jumped, and Hannah and Sings Praises stared at me as I discarded bobby pins on the floor. I felt a twinge as she hastily turned off the water, her face red with embarrassment. But my regret only made me angrier—she was the eavesdropper, not me.
“This is a desert and we are in the midst of unprecedented national drought,” I snapped as the girl walked out of the bathroom. Why was I the only person who cared about water security? Ugh. Now I was going to have to find her and apologize and I had no idea what her name was. I imagined making the announcement during PSAs on Monday: Snoopy blonde sophomore, please report to the office. Jenna Sinclair would like to say sorry. And tell you about the dangers of desertification. I choked back a giggle. Oh damnit, they were back.
“What is wrong with you?” Hannah asked.
I bit my lip, trying not to burst out laughing. “Nothing.”
Hannah took a step toward me and gave a deliberate sniff. “Are you drunk, Jenna?” she asked, eyes wide and gleeful.
I pulled a tube of gloss out of my purse, reapplying carefully, focusing on the task as the urge to laugh subsided. I pursed my lips critically. “It’s prom, Hannah. Unbunch your panties.”
“You’re senior class vice president!”
I ignored her faux outrage, running my fingers through my hair, untangling stiff hairsprayed curls. “And you’re embarrassing yourself. Elin won, get over it.”
“I’m going to tell Vice Principal Seelig,” Hannah threatened, eyes shining with glee.
I paused, slowly unwinding a red curl to tuck it back behind my ear. Tell Seelig? Yesterday, this would have made nausea rise in my throat. Getting caught drunk at school would mean suspension, which would mean no competing at state, no graduation with high honors, no senior party, no volunteering on a campaign before I moved to New Jersey, no China.
But as I studied Hannah and Sings Praises’ reflections in the mirror, I realized something important: that was yesterday.
Tonight I was just in no mood to be fucked with.
I raised one eyebrow, willing to give Hannah one last chance to save herself—knowing she’d turn it down. “I’d be careful. Threats are beneath the dignity of the institution of prom.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have never met anyone who cared as much as you do about everything. So take your pick, Jenna. Prom queen or suspension?”
I shrugged, a half smile quirking up the side of my mouth. “It’s up to you. But if you get me suspended, I’ll tell everyone you gave Josh a hand job after we cleaned up the pep rally last week. I bet Ben will be super impressed.”
Hannah jerked back like I’d slapped her. Sings Praises’ jaw dropped, her judgey little ferret face now registering her disapproval at Hannah instead of me.
I ran my fingers through my hair one final time and retied my headband. “I don’t like you, Hannah, but here’s some advice,” I said, never taking my eyes away from my own reflection. “If you want to fool around, fool around. Just pick a guy who’s more discrete than Josh Bowman. And then don’t bait other girls with words like whore.”
I turned to go find my friends before the crowning, and I could practically hear Hannah’s heart break into a million itty-bitty pieces.
And I couldn’t help but grin a little.
19
Ket West-Beauchamp
April 18, 7:55 PM
I don’t know what I expected prom to look like. Magical, I guess. But when we stepped through the tulle-wrapped archway and into the gym, my first impression was mild disappointment. Jenna ran off immediately, presumably to do Important Jenna Things, leaving the three of us to circulate around the dance floor and me scrambling for an excuse to jet myself.
Rosie looked around, chewing her lip, clearly wishing she could disappear. I knew I should stay with Ro, try to ease her into this totally normal experience that she was treating like joining the Marines, but I had to act fast if I was going to convince Vaughn to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll be right back!” I yelled to Rosie over the music. “I left something in the car!”
Then I grabbed Elin. “Talk to Ben ASAP,” I hissed in her ear before I ran off, leaving her in Rosie’s Ever-Capable hands.
On the ride to the dance, Elin had chattered nonstop. If she was angry with me after our conversation in the bathroom at Fisher’s condo—in which I had Ever-So-Delicately explained that I’d shared a Few-Too-Many details of Elin’s spring with Vaughn—she was hiding it well, and I matched her joke for joke. Jenna laughed until she snorted and even Rosie cracked a smile or two from behind the wheel.
I had expected Elin to be hurt or angry when she found out, but she was hyperfocused on her Ben Plan. To be fair, I had stressed how positive I was that Vaughn would keep his mouth shut, and she seemed to believe me, even though I had glossed over the Why of it all. But I worried that if Elin had a chance to stew for too long, she’d realize Vaughn was a potential time bomb and that she should rightfully be pissed at me.
Which meant I had to keep this up for the rest of the night. It was finally feeling like the way it had been last fall, before everything had fallen apart.
If someone had been Sex Blackmailing me last fall. And Rosie regularly wore makeup. And Jenna only made eighty percent as much sense.
So … maybe not quite like things used to be.
I pushed my way out of the double doors to the gym that we had just come through and glanced both ways. Random kids were loitering in the halls but there wasn’t a teacher in sight. I hurried down the hall, hoping no one I knew saw me and would want to gab.
One of the good things about being friends with a pair of Super-Losers like Rosie and Teddy, bless their hearts, was that I knew all the good hideout spots in the school. Ro and Teddy had spent nearly every high school dance and many an assembly hanging out in the big, soundproofed practice room in the band department.
With Rosie in the gym behaving like a real teenage girl and Teddy moping at home, that meant I had the perfect hookup spot available. I just had to make sure it was still unlocked and then decide when—if—I was going to use it.
And if Vaughn ended up in there, waiting for me for, oh, say forty-five minutes, then I would just remind Vaughn of all the times he’d left me waiting back when we were hooking up.
I didn’t know how I got myself into messes like this one. Like, I remember joking with Teddy once about his love life—or lack thereof. We were sitting on his grandparents’ porch, just the two of us because Rosie was at her dad’s house, and it was one of those moments where we were pretending that we didn’t know that Teddy
had been hopelessly in love with Rosie since sixth grade.
“I’m literally going to be a forty-year-old virgin,” Teddy said, just enough bitter edge to his tone that I knew he wasn’t entirely joking.
And because I am Keturah West-Beauchamp—Sexually Adventurous and Ever-Ready with a joke—I immediately bumped his shoulder with mine and said, “Oh Teddy. I’ll seduce you before it comes to that.”
Do you know those times in life when there seem to be two of you because you’ve done something so monumentally DUMB, not even you can believe what you did?
That’s what that moment was for me.
Outer Ket lifted one eyebrow at Teddy’s initially shocked expression and giggled with him when he burst out laughing. Outer Ket kept running her mouth, teasing him with gloriously dirty details of his inevitable deflowering.
Inner Ket wanted to die.
Even as Outer Ket was gleefully detailing how she would fulfill any and all of his sexual fantasies—even if she had to dress up as Ronald McDonald, because she was just That Good of a Friend—Inner Ket was thinking, “Shiiiiiiiiit. Why did I have to say that?”
As Teddy was gasping for air because Outer Ket was just So Damn Funny, Inner Ket wanted to run home and bury her face under her comforter for a week.
As I’d hinted to Rosie on more than one occasion, Teddy Lawrence was the sole unattached unicorn in our high school—a boy who was funny and respectful and loyal, a boy who possessed the exact same level of maturity as all the girls around him. Teddy was possibly the only such mythical creature in Summit County, excepting maybe Miles Brooke and Ben Holiday.
If Rosie never pulled her head out of her ass, Teddy would go off to college and find some girl with a French name who loved manga and volunteered at a homeless shelter and who’d never even been kissed. They’d have sex and it would be instantly magical because when mythical creatures bang, that’s just how things go.
Guys like Teddy Lawrence did not end up with girls like Ket West-Beauchamp, girls who lost their V-card at fourteen in a burst of lust and curiosity.
Telling Vaughn about Elin had been like that moment. Outer Ket just needed someone to listen while she cried, and kind of liked that it was Vaughn—who was usually sort of a dick—being extra nice about it.
Inner Ket was like, I think I just made a massive mistake.
Inner Ket can be such an insufferable know-it-all.
I hurried down the stairs to the basement band room, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Surprisingly, there were no band nerds making out in the stairwell—which just goes to show you, private spots are wasted on the dorky. I reached for the knob of the band room, closing my eyes and hoping for the best.
Success.
I slowly opened the door. The band room was partially lit, the lights in every practice room on and glowing through the windows, the main lights off. I shut the door behind me softly, creeping over to the largest practice room and opening the door.
Teddy looked up from his iPad, grinning at me. “Hey, Ket.”
20
BEFORE
Elin Angstrom
March 9
Her mother had brought her favorite sweatshirt, slip-on canvas shoes, and a pair of jeans so she’d be comfortable when they checked out. She tucked her hands into the kangaroo pocket, trying to keep warm as she stared out the window of her room.
Not her room anymore. The room. She was leaving today. Going home to recuperate with her parents.
As soon as the final details were ironed out.
Elin figured she wasn’t in any position to bargain, but she really wished her mother had remembered her makeup. It may have made her feel a little more grownup while the grownups argued over her.
“She needs to be around other kids,” her dad snapped. “Look, doctor, I respect your expertise, but I know my daughter. This is not her. It’s not. She’s a happy kid who’s been having a few bad months. It’s her senior year and the pressure is getting to her. And you know teenagers, they’re always so dramatic.”
“She broke up with her boyfriend,” Elin’s mother added helpfully. It was probably the third time she’d mentioned that since Elin had woken up in the hospital.
“Yes!” her father agreed eagerly. “The boyfriend, and her grades, and all her friends are getting into excellent colleges and it turns out she missed the application deadlines. Senior year stress, I’m surprised this doesn’t happen more often.”
“It does happen often, actually, Mr. Angstrom,” the doctor replied softly. “Which is why I would strongly urge you to find a therapist for your daughter, so she can continue to get well.”
“She doesn’t need therapy,” her mother said, her voice gaining strength. “She needs to go back to her routine.”
Elin stared out the window. The sky was flat and gray, like brushed nickel.
If Ben were here, he would know the name of the clouds.
“We want her to feel normal,” Elin’s dad said firmly. “You’ve given her the prescriptions, we’re going to make sure she takes them like clockwork. But what she needs is normality.”
“Normality,” Elin’s mom repeated.
The doctor sighed. “How would you feel about a support group?” he said finally.
March 14
Elin’s parents had done their best to keep her ensconced safely in the house, after she came home from the hospital. When Elin asked when she was going back to school, they exchanged glances and said, “Soon.”
She wanted to fight them about that, but she could hardly stand to look at them. The way they seemed to have aged ten years in two weeks. Even if she hadn’t meant to, she’d done that to them, so she said nothing.
So Elin spent the week in her room, her phone and laptop practically useless because her parents had turned off the wifi in an effort to—who even knew. Rewind the clock to the 1980s, when everything was awesome? She watched movies and slept. Ket and Rosie and Teddy texted her, and she texted back appropriately reassuring things.
She should have expected Jenna to just barge in without asking.
“Hey, can I come in?”
Elin glanced up from her book to see Jenna standing in the doorway, her messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Oh, it was a Friday afternoon—Jenna must have just finished school. Elin had lost track of the time and the days.
“Sure,” Elin said, putting down her book and feeling self-conscious. She hadn’t changed out of pajamas, and Jenna was wearing a white button up under a blue sweater, jeans rolled up past her ankles, her red hair up in a messy-cute topknot, her makeup perfect. Like always.
Jenna dropped her bag on the floor and sat on the edge of Elin’s bed, kicking off her shoes. “You’re coming back to school on Monday?” she asked, tucking one leg underneath herself. “Your mom said you were.”
Elin raised her eyebrows. “Apparently.” And apparently Jenna was able to get a straight answer out of her parents even when Elin could not.
“That’s good, you’ve missed so much school,” Jenna said, sounding relieved, as if Elin had simply had mono and was finally well.
“Yeah, I know,” Elin said warily. She picked up her book, thumbing aimlessly through the pages, just to give her hands something to do.
For the first time since she’d come in, Jenna looked uncomfortable. “I know you know,” Jenna said, biting her lip and glancing out the window.
They sat in silence for a moment, and it wasn’t like the silence they’d lived with their whole lives. This silence was heavy, uncomfortable. Like they both knew it had to end eventually, and neither one of them liked what they were about to say.
As expected, Jenna broke the silence first. “Your parents are really pissed at mine,” Jenna said, still looking out the window.
Elin felt a rush of defensiveness toward her parents—her poor parents, who had gone through hell for the last two weeks. “Well, your parents had no business telling the school anything,” Elin said.
Now Jenna met her gaze, her ey
ebrows knit together. “Of course they did,” she said, sounding baffled. “The administration isn’t going to say anything; there are privacy laws against that. But they had to know. Besides, my parents had to excuse my absence.”
Elin stared at Jenna incredulously. “You missed school?”
“Well … yeah,” Jenna said. “Just last Monday, but, you know. I was really upset.”
Elin could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breath getting shallow. “Not everything is about you, Jen,” Elin snapped.
Jenna blanched, and Elin knew she should feel bad, but she didn’t. It might have been wrong—it was wrong—but she had to protect herself. Had to banish the panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.
“I didn’t say it was about me,” Jenna said quickly, but Elin suddenly knew that was why she had come over without calling.
So they could talk about it.
And Elin didn’t want to talk about it.
Not now, not ever.
“This is something I am going through, Jen,” Elin said, and even she was shocked at how icy her voice sounded. “And when and if I feel like talking about it, I will let you know. But until then, I would expect that, as my friend, you respect that.”
Jenna stared at her, eyes wide and unblinking. For a second, Elin thought she would argue, but instead she nodded. “Okay,” she said simply, standing. She grabbed her shoes and bag. “See you Monday.”
Elin watched her go, wishing she could call her back, talk to her about everything she was missing at school, hear about all the gossip.
But the relief with her gone was too great.
March 17
The first day back at school went as well as she could have anticipated. She dressed for school carefully, like it was a chance to do her first day over. She braided her hair and put on a cute outfit—but not too cute, she didn’t want to stand out—and did her makeup. Her mother drove her but she arrived at the usual time, walking in with her friends like she had come from the same parking lot as them.
But there were little reminders, everywhere, that things were different.
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