by Erin Downing
“So that’s it?” he asked, turning toward her.
“I guess so,” Emily said. “Things just don’t feel right. Not right now.” She knew it sounded lame, but she didn’t know how else to put it. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t like him—that was a lie. And she couldn’t say things were going nowhere—she didn’t know if that was true either. She just knew something didn’t feel right with her life, and she needed to try to fix it.
Ethan stared straight ahead when he repeated, “Not right now?” He turned to look at her in the darkened car. “Does that mean there’s still a chance someday?”
She met his eyes in the moonlight and knew she couldn’t answer his question definitively one way or the other. “I don’t know. I hope so? But I know that it’s not fair to hold on to you right now, and I don’t expect you to wait around. I’m sorry. You have no idea how hard this is for me.”
Ethan pulled out of the parking lot silently, and they rode in silence all the way to her house. Emily’s hands were folded in her lap. She opened her mouth a few times to say something, but couldn’t think of the right words. “I’m really sorry,” she managed finally.
They pulled into the darkness outside Emily’s house. Ethan hadn’t parked his car in the driveway, and Emily couldn’t see his expression in the darkened car. “I understand,” he said, turning to look at her. “I’m sorry too. I’m really happy with you, Emily.”
She choked back tears and managed to squeak out, “Me too,” before she opened her door and left Ethan alone. “Good-bye, Ethan.” It wasn’t until she was alone in her room, tucked under her covers with her prom dress laid next to her on the bed, that Emily let herself cry.
A few nights later Emily sat alone in her bedroom again. She was picking her fingernails nervously. She felt sick.
Ethan had just called. She had offered him no further explanation, other than telling him again that she was sorry about everything and that she just couldn’t commit right now. He had been understanding and kind about it, but said he was really disappointed, which had made the conversation that much harder. Emily was heart-broken; she wished they had met at a better time.
Emily had discussed the situation with Charlie and Sid at the Leaf Lounge the night before, and they had both agreed that she’d made the right decision. When Emily complained about losing Ethan, Sid had declared that Emily “needed to get over herself. Sh—crap happens.” And that’s how Emily felt now—like crap.
The phone was back in its cradle and Emily felt alone and miserable—Ethan was gone. Her dad’s laptop was open on her bed in front of her, with the home page of Buzz on the screen. Max’s prom crashing article had been published on the website a few days earlier, and Emily had finally had a chance to read it for the first time. It was really funny—he had captured all the nuances of their weeks of crashing perfectly. He had cast Charlie, Emily, and Sid in a hilarious light, and his style was spot-on for the tone of the website. The only thing missing from the article was her and Max’s maybe-almost-could-have-been-a-kiss. She wasn’t surprised it wasn’t in there.
Emily was so proud of Max and wanted nothing more than to tell him how excited she was for him. She knew she couldn’t ignore this big achievement just because they were apparently avoiding one another. She pulled up her Instant Messenger.
E: max?
E: r you home?
Nothing. He wasn’t there. Nor was he home when she called his house. She would try to find him at school the next day, but there was an assembly during their lunch period, so it was unlikely they would have any time to talk.
Sighing, she flopped off her bed and walked to her window. She had a perfect view of Max’s room from her own. Emily still had the flashlight she had used as a kid to send him messages out her bedroom window, and she pulled it out from under her mattress now. She flicked it on—the light still worked.
She flipped it off and stowed it under her mattress again. Max’s shade was closed, and his yard was empty. Emily couldn’t believe that just a few awkward moments had put a kink in their friendship after all these years. She and Max had never even considered dating, and she wondered if maybe this was some big misunderstanding.
Until they had an honest conversation, she would just have to hope that things would go back to normal—or something better than normal. They would have to talk to each other eventually, and when they did, Emily could see if she had been alone in feeling the spark between them on the boat.
But no matter what happened with Max, one thing was certain: Emily was going to be alone for her prom.
Fourteen
“I’m not going.”
Emily had told her mom that she wasn’t going to prom six different ways, but her mom was still convinced maybe she would change her mind. “You’ll look so pretty in navy.”
“Mom. I’m. Not. Going. End of story.”
“Maybe lavender would set off your dark hair better.”
“Prom’s tonight.” Emily threw her hands in the air. “It’s too late.”
“Why aren’t you going with Max?” Her mom asked the question innocently. But Emily wanted to scream and shout and tell her she was horrible for asking such a loaded question.
Why aren’t I going with Max? she fretted as she stomped up the stairs to her room. She had obviously been debating this very question for the past few days and couldn’t come up with an answer she was happy with—other than the fact that he was going with someone else, of course.
“Are you okay, Emily?” Abby’s pigtailed head poked around the door of Emily’s room, breaking her out of her head.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Do you want me to go to prom with you?” Abby looked so sincere that Emily knew she hadn’t asked the question to be malicious or to make Emily feel totally lame. Abby just wanted Emily to be happy.
“Come here,” Emily beckoned, and her sister happily trotted into the room and curled up next to Emily on her bed. “Thank you for offering to be my prom date.”
Abby grinned and snuggled into her sister’s arm. “You’re welcome.”
“You know what?” Emily closed her eyes. “I’ve been really stupid for the past couple of months.”
“Stupid how?”
“I guess I thought that prom with my best friend would somehow be less perfect than prom with a knight in shining armor, who would buy me a pretty rose corsage and kiss me at the end of the night. And now that misguided fantasy made me lose my best friend.”
“Do you like roses?” Abby was missing the point, but Emily was relieved. Her sister didn’t need to worry about stuff like this yet. She’d get her share of it someday.
“Yeah, roses are pretty. But Max would have probably brought me a daisy corsage or something silly and frivolous, just to be different.” Emily paused. “And I would have loved it.” She sighed, and Abby snuggled in deeper. “But you know what?” She asked that question blankly, quietly, more to herself than to her sister. “Prom with Ethan would have been perfect too. He would have more than definitely kissed me next to the buffet table and made all my prom fantasies come true.”
Abby craned her neck around to study Emily’s face. “Is there a buffet at prom? Do they have mini hot dogs?”
“But if I’d gone with Ethan …” Emily ignored her sister’s question and continued her musings. Abby was like a free therapy session. Her questions were unrelated to the point of the conversation, but there was something soothing about having her there. It was making Emily think about things in a way she normally wouldn’t. “… I would always wonder if the connection between me and Max was real or imagined.”
As she said it, Emily knew she had to find out more. Her friendship with Max was built on too much to have it ruined by the uncertainty of not knowing what might have happened. That’s why she’d broken up with Ethan, after all. It’s the reason she’d given up her chance for a perfect prom. She couldn’t face looking back at prom as the night that caused her friendship with Max to end. No amount of romance was worth that.
> So if she was doing the right thing, how was everything still so totally wrong?
“What am I doing?” Emily asked no one in particular.
“You were going to get me a snack?” Charlie offered helpfully.
“Why am I missing my own prom?”
“Because you broke up with your yummy new boyfriend, didn’t want to go with me, and completely screwed things up with your backup-date-slash-best-friend-slash-maybe-future-loooover.” Charlie smiled. “Does that answer the question?”
Emily groaned. She was curled up on the couch in her family room, with Charlie’s feet partially blocking her view of the TV (she didn’t mind—she wasn’t watching anyway). Pretty in Pink was on, in honor of the fact that Emily had screwed up her prom night and now wanted to watch Molly Ringwald get all dolled up and live out her happy ending.
Charlie had offered to take Emily to prom, but she refused to be the girl who went with her cousin. She really believed that might be worse than not going at all.
“You could have gone with me,” Sid chimed in. She was stretched out on the floor, facedown.
“I should have.” Emily smiled. “At least I would have gotten points for going with a rock star. I could have said I knew you when.”
Sid blushed. She still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that she was now a real rock star. After her gig at French’s earlier that week, 1492 had been so impressed with her performance and the crowd’s reaction that they had offered her a spot touring with their band when they hit the road in a couple of months. “Aw, shucks,” she said. “You make it sound like I’ve already turned into a diva. Give me time, lurves, give me time.” She looked up and grinned. Her now-green hair streak flopped over one eye.
“I’m going to go put on my dress,” Emily announced suddenly. “I can pretend I’m going to a John Hughes prom with Andrew McCarthy.”
“Oh, Em.” Charlie sighed. “Don’t do it. That’s just sad.”
Emily laughed. “No, really, I think it will help. Yes, it sounds sad, but I believe that wearing my dress will make me feel better.” Charlie and Sid looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Girl, you’re nuts.” Sid’s voice was muffled by the carpet.
Emily laughed and bounded up the stairs to her room and closed the door. Her parents had gone out for the night—taking Abby with them—so she knew she would probably be left alone. But she shut the door just in case. She wanted a few minutes to herself.
Opening her closet, Emily pulled her prom dress from the back corner and laid it out on her bed. She sat next to it, staring out across her backyard through the window—fireflies flickered periodically in the dusky sky, like mini Christmas tree lights.
After a few minutes of staring without really seeing, Emily realized a light besides the one coming from her own bedroom was shining into her backyard as well. Max’s bedroom light was on. Emily checked her alarm clock. Prom had started an hour ago, so he shouldn’t still be home.
Then Emily noticed someone moving in Max’s room, and she recognized her best friend’s striped oxford. Why isn’t he at prom? she wondered. Suddenly Max turned and looked out the window. He spotted Emily looking at him from her window. They stared at each other without movement for a few moments.
Emily backed away from her window, turning off her light. Reaching under her mattress, she grabbed the flashlight she had discovered a few days earlier and shined it at Max’s window. A few seconds later Max’s light flicked off and he flash-lighted her back. Emily smiled in her darkened room.
She needed to talk to him immediately. She couldn’t handle one more second of not knowing what was going on between them. Leaving her flashlight in the on position, propped up on her windowsill facing Max’s room, she turned and jogged back down the stairs.
As she thumped out the front door, Emily could hear Charlie calling after her. She heard footsteps following her but didn’t care. She just needed to talk to Max. She ran around the corner of her house and into Max’s backyard. There was an old oak tree that Emily had climbed a million times—just not for a few years. She awkwardly ascended it now, carefully avoiding the thin, brittle branch halfway up the tree.
Charlie and Sid were beneath her now, calling out in hushed yells. “What are you doing?” Charlie asked. “Em, come down.”
Emily shook her head, though she knew Charlie couldn’t see her in the dim light. “I have to talk to Max,” she replied, huffing from the effort of climbing the tree. “Don’t worry—I’ve done this a million times.” She reached Max’s room and tap-tap-tapped on the window from her perch in the tree.
Max’s bedroom light flashed on, illuminating Emily in the tree. She was sure she looked ridiculous. “What the …” Max was just as surprised to see Emily as Emily was to realize she’d just climbed the tree.
“Hey,” she panted. “How are you?”
“Okay.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at prom?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
“No.” Max looked down. “I don’t have a date.”
“I thought you were going with Lauren Ellstrom?”
“I never said that.”
“You did. We were talking about the prom after-party, and you said you were going with Lauren.”
“No.” Max shook his head. “I said I was going to Lauren’s after-party. But I never said anything about going to prom with Lauren.”
“But you …” Emily stopped. This was going nowhere. “Max, listen.” She paused. She still hadn’t really thought out how she was going to approach this awkward subject. “I’m really sorry about being late to meet you last weekend.”
“That’s okay,” he replied. “The story got written.”
Emily was sidetracked for a second. “I know! It was so good—I read it and am so impressed.”
“Thanks.” He looked at her expectantly.
“But, um—okay, listen.” Emily settled into a more comfortable position in the branch of the tree. “I’ve been feeling really weird lately about something. I don’t know how to bring this up, but I sort of feel like we have to talk about it or I’m just never going to know if I was imagining something or—”
Max cut her off. “I was a little freaked about what almost happened on the boat too.”
“You were?!” She wondered if she should be worried about his choice of words—“freaked” wasn’t exactly reassuring. She continued. “Did you feel like there was almost a moment?”
“Yeah,” Max answered sheepishly. “But then Charlie showed up and you found Ethan and everything got …”
“Weird.” They said it at the same time, then laughed.
Emily spoke first. “I broke things off with Ethan.” Her heart pitter-pattered when she said that.
“He seemed like a good guy.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “He is. But what I had with him isn’t as important as what I have with you.”
There was a pause. Max was looking at her in the moonlight. Is he going to kiss me? She wondered. Her heart thumped in her chest.
And then Max started laughing. Not just a little laugh, either. It was a big, from-thegut, almost-falling-out-the-window guffaw. Emily had just bared her soul—if she was using romance writer language—and Max was laughing.
She stared at him for a moment, then she too started laughing. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes, and the branch she sat on was shaking.
Max’s dimples deepened. “It’s so great to hear you say that… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh.”
“No, I get it,” she said, matching his smile. “This feels better, doesn’t it?” Emily asked. She knew Max was feeling exactly the same way she was. There was absolutely nothing romantic between them. There never would be.
“Much,” Max confessed. “Don’t get me wrong—there was some sort of spark the other night, and maybe there’s been some funky spark sparking around for the past month—but I think we were both just caught up in a bizarre, promesque mood.”
Some friendships were meant to be just that—friendships—and hers and Max’s was one of those. He reached out and touched her hand. “We’re much better off as best friends, aren’t we?”
Emily nodded. “Agreed.” Then she leaned forward on her branch to give him a hug. It was awkward, considering that she was balanced somewhat precariously in the oak tree, but it still felt good. “But you know what?” she said, suddenly remembering her prom dress draped across her bed next door. “I wouldn’t want to go to prom with anyone but you. We really should have planned to go together.”
“I offered,” Max declared. “You shot me down!”
“I know, I know.” Emily groaned. “Okay, I’ll admit that I would have really liked to have my romantic prom fantasy come true. But now I’m thinking a little excitement and intrigue on prom night is way more fun than a lot of romance.”
“I agree.”
“And could Ethan—however yummy he is—live up to the standards you, Charlie, and Sid have set for prom? I think not. Kissing by the buffet table just doesn’t compare to the excitement of prom crashing.” She paused and looked down at Charlie and Sid, who were still standing, looking up at her from the base of the tree. “So,” she said, loud enough for the other two to hear, “who wants to go to Humphrey’s prom?”
“Em,” Max said slowly. “None of us have tickets, remember?”
“Ah,” Emily said. “That hasn’t stopped us before, has it?”
Max’s dimples deepened again. Charlie started clapping from his post on the ground.
“One more target?” he asked excitedly.
Emily grinned. “That”s what I’m thinking.”
Emily heard her parents’ car pull into the driveway just as she emerged from her room in her perfect pink prom dress a few minutes later. By the time she got to the top of the stairs, Abby was clapping with Charlie and Sid in the front hall as Emily’s mom snapped pictures of her elder daughter descending the stairs. Her mom was so caught up in the excitement of it all that she didn’t seem to notice that Emily had a prom dress she knew nothing about and had never seen before. Emily was sure the questions would come later.