The Promposal

by Sariah Wilson

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I resolved to remain cool, calm, and collected when I found Jake. I would be reasonable and logical and get all the answers I needed. I would not overreact or freak out or accuse him of anything. I would let him explain himself.

  And I kept my resolutions right up until the moment where I found him on the fourth floor of the hospital hugging some girl. Some girl who obviously did not value her life. She had her back to me, which meant I could clearly see Jake’s face. And he had the biggest grin imaginable.

  Something about the girl seemed vaguely familiar, and I wondered if that was because I had dreaded and imagined this moment so many freaking times that I’d become temporarily psychic. She wore lavender scrubs, and I couldn’t remember if that was what those candy strippers wore. Maybe this one was a nurse stripper. Who should be old enough to know better.

  I had waited almost my entire life to be with him. Nobody was going to swoop in and take this from me. I marched over, ready to confront them both. “This is what you’ve been doing? This is why you’ve been missing school? Running around with some teenage tart?”

  Jake and the girl let go of each other, and the girl turned around.

  Only she wasn’t a girl or a teenager and was someone I actually knew.

  Dr. Bahati Okafor.

  “Tills?”

  “Mattie?”

  They both said my name (well, one of my names) at the same time, and then looked back at each other. “How do you know—” Again, they spoke in unison and laughed.

  I was so glad I could be amusing for them. I supposed that someone could find it funny that I accused Bahati of being a teenager and cheating with Jake, but in my defense, she was so young looking that she could have easily passed for a teen if she wanted to, especially given her smooth, flawless skin. At least that’s what I would be telling myself for a long time as justification for being oh-so-jealous of someone who had at least a decade on us.

  “Mattie is Kenyetta’s tutor,” Bahati said when I wasn’t forthcoming about our connection. “Kenyetta is my boyfriend’s daughter.”

  “Yeah, I know Kenyetta. Tills—I mean, Mattie is my girlfriend.”

  “That is why you’ve seemed so familiar to me, Jake. Kenyetta has a picture of you on her phone. I thought you were just some online model that she had a crush on.”

  My mind was temporarily distracted by my fervent belief that Jake could have so easily been a model.

  “That’s funny. It’s a small world!” Jake said.

  “The smallest,” she agreed.

  We could get on that Disneyland ride later because it had just occurred to me what kind of doctor Bahati was.

  An oncologist.

  “I have other patients to see, more test results to deliver. Jake, Mattie, I’m sure I will see you soon.”

  She left, and I couldn’t keep quiet. “More test results? Oh my Buddha, why are you seeing an oncologist? Are you dying?” Was that why he’d been so secretive? Why he was pulling away? Because he had only six months to live and wanted to spare me the pain of losing him? Which was so something Jake would have done.

  All the blood left my brain, and I felt woozy and weak. Which I didn’t realize until I felt Jake’s arms go around me, as he led me into a waiting room and had me sit down. I couldn’t imagine a world without Jake in it. My hands went clammy, and I could feel the sweat pouring down my back.

  “How you’re feeling right now? That’s how I’ve been feeling for the last two weeks. But you don’t have to worry. I’m not dying, Tills. I’m not sick. I’m not here for me.”

  Relief, overwhelming and sudden, rushed through me. But that was tempered by the fact that there was a reason Jake was talking to an oncologist in a hospital. “Then why are you here?”

  He took in a big breath and leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Okafor was just telling all of us that my mom’s biopsy results were negative. She doesn’t have breast cancer.”

  That cleared my head and made me sit straight up. “You thought your mom had breast cancer? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Jake let out a small, deprecating laugh. “There were so many reasons. Reasons that I told myself were good and made sense. My mom asked me not to say anything to anyone. Even you. She wanted to keep it private until we knew for sure. Then that whole thing with your mom happened, and I don’t know, I didn’t want to add to what you were going through.”

  I quickly filled him in on how I’d contacted the reporter and made some corrections to my mother’s version of the truth. “And just because my mom wants to turn Dalmatian puppies into coats doesn’t mean that you can’t talk about your mom. I know how much you guys love each other, and you should be able to talk to me. About anything.”

  “That’s the thing, Tills.” He reached over and laced his fingers through mine, sending little shocks and thrills all up and down my arm. “You’re my girlfriend, but you’re also my best friend. You’re the person I want to tell stuff to. Sometimes it feels like things don’t really happen until I tell you. But if I told you that the doctors thought my mom had breast cancer . . .”

  “If you told me, then what?”

  “Once I told you, it would have been real. And I didn’t want it to be real. I wanted to pretend like it wasn’t happening. That’s not really an excuse, though. I should have told you.”

  “You should have told me,” I agreed. “I could have been here for you. Helping you. So that’s why you’ve been so weird and secretive? Because you thought your mom was sick?”

  He leaned over to kiss me softly, gently, and it was over far too quickly. “That was probably most of it. But then something else happened, and I wasn’t sure how you would take it.”

  Here it was. Now was when he told me that he’d changed his mind about us. He knew he could do better.

  “You found someone else?” The words threatened to strangle me.

  “What? No! How could you think that? I would never—” He paused. “Is that why you called Dr. Okafor a teenage tart? You thought that she and I were hooking up?”

  “Not with her, specifically, but after that whole Trent-was-cheating-on-Ella thing there was this quiz from a teenage girl’s magazine about whether your boyfriend was cheating, and you were doing all the things on the list. Taking secretive phone calls, acting distant, canceling at the last minute. And you lied about where you were.”

  “Lied? I wouldn’t lie to you. I haven’t.”

  “What about you missing Kenyetta’s party because you were going shopping with your mom? Or that day I asked you about your after-school plans and you said you had baseball stuff, but you left school in the middle of the day?”

  He looked confused for a moment before answering. “My dad was working so I did go shopping with my mom that day. She wanted to look at hats and scarves for her head in case she had to get chemo. She deals with a crisis by preparing for it. If she was going to lose all her hair, she wanted to have everything she needed lined up first. And I did do baseball stuff after school. I left in the middle of the day to be here with my mom and dad for an appointment, then went back.”

  Oh Buddha, I was the worst girlfriend ever. “Okay. Well, so you have rational and logical explanations, and I sound like I’m living on this side of crazy. I just couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

  He took my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “I would never cheat on you.”

  His words made tears start in the corners of my eyes. “Part of me knows that. But Ella had so much faith in Trent, and we saw how that turned out.”

  “What Ella and Trent had? Not even a drop in the bucket when it comes to you and me. It’s like comparing . . . I don’t know, a candle to the sun. They both give off light. But one lights up a room, and the other lights up the whole world.”

  “Half the planet at a time,” I corrected him, while my body melted over how unbelievably sweet and romantic he was.

  He laughed. “Half the planet at a time. But we ar
en’t the same as them. What we have is so much more.” He made sure I was looking deep into his chocolaty brown eyes. “I love you. You are perfect for me and the only girl in the whole world that I care about. Get it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  I believed him. A hundred and fifty percent. I knew that he was telling me the truth, and I felt so dumb for having suspected him of messing around on me. “Now I feel bad. And stupid. But mostly bad for not believing in you.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll make a list of things you can do to make it up to me.” That teasing, devilish sparkle was back, and I knew I was in trouble.

  “I have a pretty good idea of what that list will contain.”

  “That’s because you’re so smart.” He kissed me swiftly, burning my lips with his. Like he was branding me, and I was all too happy for the world to know we belonged together.

  “Wait,” I said, pulling back. “You said there was something else going on.”

  “Oh. The athletic department from UCSC just called to tell me that I will be required to live in a dorm all the way across campus next year. They should have told me when I accepted my scholarship, but they didn’t. Which means I’m messing up all our plans to be close to each other.”

  Seriously? I pointed to my legs. “See these? I use them to walk. I can even walk across campus to where you are. You can do the same. You’re not messing up any of our plans because the only plan I have is to be with you. The rest is all fluff. Get it?”

  That made him smile. “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  This time I kissed him, a lingering, loving kiss that reminded me of how very dumb I had been. When Jake and I began dating I’d made a promise to myself to not immediately go dark, to always believe in love and magic.

  I needed to renew that vow. Because being with Jake? Nothing but love and magic.

  Especially in his kiss.

  I also reminded myself to believe and trust in Jake and the love that we shared. Sometimes it was so hard to imagine that he could be into someone like me that it might have made me a tad bit crazy.

  “Anything else we should be discussing?” Jake asked when we finally came up for air. “It feels like there’s something else you want to say but haven’t.”

  The knowing look in his eye made me think he knew exactly what I was going to say next. And it was still kind of scary, but I had to talk about it. “What about prom? You haven’t asked me.”

  A rueful expression made the ends of his lips tilt up. “I have something planned. It just took a lot longer than I thought it would to make it all come together. Your promposal is coming.”

  “Really?” I tried not to squeal. I never should have doubted him.

  “You think I’d leave my girl high and dry at what is probably the most important event of our entire four years in high school?”

  “It’s the pinnacle of my student body presidential career,” I said.

  “That too.”

  “You’re going to have a hard time topping your Sixteen Candles move.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it covered.”

  I could not wait. “So when is it happening?”

  “You’re going to have to wait and see. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “Oh?” I asked, running my fingertips along his forearm. “I may need clarification on what good things are.”

  “I could show you.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Jake let out a strangled sound and had me on my feet. I giggled as we rushed down a hallway, avoiding medical personnel until he found an empty room. We went inside, closing the door shut behind us. He pinned me up against the wall, out of eyesight from any of the windows.

  He began kissing the side of my neck, his lips running along my jaw, and I sighed with pure happiness.

  “You know,” he murmured the words in between kisses, “I was actually surprised that you hadn’t asked me about prom yet.”

  “I didn’t want to seem needy.” My voice was high and breathy.

  His fiery lips pressed against mine, nearly consuming me. “I like it when you’re needy.”

  I put my hands on his face so that I could look into his eyes. His eyes that burned like two brown bonfires. “You’re all I need. I love you, Jake.”

  His wolfish grin made my knees feel weak. “I know.”

  The world had once again become a beautiful, fantastic place. Jake stopped skipping school since his mom’s results were in, and our lives went back to what passed for normal.

  The sky was crisp and blue, and the grass on the school grounds was emerald green and perfect, and even the girls’ bathroom on the second floor was less disgusting than it normally was.

  Birds were singing, bees were buzzing . . . and the girl in the stall next to me was sobbing her eyes out.

  I finished my business, flushed the toilet, and then knocked on the divider. “Hey, are you okay in there?”

  The other girl made a combination groan/sob, and then I heard an all too familiar voice saying, “You have got to be kidding me!”

  I opened my stall door at the same time as Mercedes Bentley opened hers. We glared at each other in the mirror, and she looked absolutely terrible. Her eyes were swollen and red with streaks of mascara running down her face.

  I wondered what could be bad enough to make the devil herself cry?

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  What was up with me, Mercedes, and bathrooms? It was kind of becoming our thing. Not that I wanted us to have a thing. And we most definitely had already déjàed this vu.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked her as I went over to wash my hands. “Did you find out that being an evil skank is not a valid life choice?”

  She threw something plastic into the sink next to me. “Even better. I just found out that I’m pregnant.”

  I looked at the pee stick in the sink next to mine, stunned. “How? What? How?”

  “Excellent and insightful questions.” Mercedes went to an empty sink and washed her hands as well.

  “How did this happen?” I asked, not able to tear my gaze away from the pregnancy test that said Mercedes was most definitely with child. “I mean I know how it happens.” Not from personal experience or anything, but I had the general gist of it. “Is Scott the father?”

  I seriously hoped Mercedes had cheated on her gross boyfriend. Because Scott was such a tool that he should have “Craftsman” tattooed on his forehead. Just to warn off other girls.

  “Of course he’s the father.” She dried her hands off, threw away the paper towel, and leaned against a wall. “Although we just broke up for the millionth time.”

  Right before prom? I felt a little sad for her until I remembered that she couldn’t have gone to the dance, even if she’d wanted to. And why had Scott gone through the effort to do a big promposal when she couldn’t go and he was just going to break up with her? I asked the only question I could. “Why?”

  “Religious differences. He wanted me to worship him, and I wasn’t interested.” I realized that her sarcasm was an attempt at holding back tears. Tears that she now shed as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “What am I going to do? How am I going to tell my parents?”

  Was Mercedes having a momentary lapse in evil? She seemed almost human. I reminded myself that this was the same girl who had just ruined our prom by blackmailing Mindi. Who had sold off our dresses so that we couldn’t have them. Broken up with Trent from Ella’s phone.

  And I was actually feeling bad for her.

  Part of me wanted to rip into her and tell her off. The other part held back, unable to do so while she cried in a heap on the bathroom floor.

  I mean, what else could I do to her that would even be worse?

  In comparison, I had everything in front of me. Jake. UCSC. A summer internship at a manga company. Prom. A supposedly awesome incoming promposal from Jake. All my dreams were about to come true.

  And she . . . didn’t have tho
se things. Mostly because of her own choices, but still.

  She’d tried her best to sabotage our happiness, but the one person who was hurt the most was Mercedes.

  No matter what she might decide to do about her pregnancy or her baby, right now she was terrified. And not even I was enough of a jerk to kick her while she was down.

  “I’m sorry.” And I was.

  “Is that some kind of sarcastic comment?”

  “No. I am trying to be nice here. But you don’t make it very easy.”

  “Oh please. You think you’re so innocent in all this. But you’re just as mean to me as I am to you. You talk about me behind my back all the time, don’t you?”

  Yeah, it was called manners. “You started it.”

  “And you participated. You’ve given just as good as you got.” She rubbed her nose on her sleeve, and I stepped into a stall to grab her some toilet paper. Which I thought was very big of me. I handed it to her, and she actually took it, without a single snide remark.

  “Jake likes you,” she sniffled.

  Correction, Jake loved and adored me, but now was probably not the time to be splitting hairs.

  “He’s always liked you. Ever since we were kids.” Something that I still thought should have been brought to my attention a long time ago. “Nobody else ever stood a chance.”

  “Like you.”

  She nodded. “Like me. He’s such a good guy, you know?”

  I did know. Even if I had temporarily forgotten. And I again felt pangs of sympathy for her. I knew from firsthand experience exactly what it was like to be deeply envious of someone because they were dating Jake. Heck, I’d even been jealous of imaginary women that I thought he was cheating on me with.

  “I really am sorry. I hope you figure out what’s best for you and your . . .” I let my voice trail off as I gestured at her stomach. “Do you want me to get someone for you? Ms. Rathbone? Or the guidance counselor or something?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”

  And here I thought we were having kind of a moment. “Okay. I have to get to class.” I started to walk away and then stopped. I didn’t have to be mean, but she deserved to get called out on her behavior. “You shouldn’t have blackmailed Mindi and nearly ruined the prom. It’s one thing to go after me and Ella and take away our dresses or whatever, but you almost destroyed one of the most important nights of everybody’s lives.”