Promposal

by Rhonda Helms

  I saw Ethan sitting at the lunch table, talking to Camilla. And suddenly I just couldn’t face him. My heart was crumbling apart in my chest. I couldn’t sit there and fake like everything was okay. So I spun around and fled for the library. I shot Camilla a brief text explaining, then composed a text for Ethan that I would see him later—boy, it was so much easier to fake happiness when someone couldn’t see my face.

  A moment later, just as I settled into the back corner and sneak-opened my sandwich, my phone buzzed. A reply from Ethan. Make sure you find time to eat!

  I shoved a piece of sandwich in my mouth and chewed. No worries about that, buddy. BTW saw Noah in halls, I replied. Talked you up. There. That should get me out of having to be present for the promposal on Monday.

  It was a few minutes before I got a response. And when I did, all it said was thx.

  You okay? I wrote back. A definite oddity for him to be so curt.

  Fine. See ya later.

  Okay, then. I ate my sandwich, though it didn’t taste great. I’d lost my appetite. Part of me was curious about why Ethan was so lackluster in his response about me talking to Noah. Did I do something wrong? Did he not want me to interfere at all?

  That didn’t seem like him.

  Maybe he was just in a bad mood. It was rare, but it did happen.

  The rest of my day went fast. I finished classes, walked home, then busted out my homework so I could focus on making dinner and relaxing.

  I grabbed two thick tuna steaks out of the fridge and popped them in the skillet to sauté. As they finished cooking, I chopped veggies and steamed them. Cut two thick hunks of bread and made plates. “Dad, dinner’s done.”

  He trudged out of the office, still wearing his pajama pants. His hair was a total mess. Even so, he was still an attractive man. I wondered if he’d ever start dating again. Wasn’t quite sure how to broach that subject, though—we both avoided talking about dating in an unspoken agreement. “That smells amazing. I think you outdid yourself.”

  We took our plates to the table, and Dad grabbed a beer and cracked it open.

  “How’s the book?” I asked.

  “Going great.” He swigged the beer, then cut into the tuna. “This is perfect,” he said around a mouthful. “Wow. If that music thing doesn’t work out, you should go into cooking.”

  I chuckled. “Glad to see I have a fan.”

  “When you leave for New York, I’m gonna be living on peanut butter sandwiches,” he teased.

  “I don’t doubt that at all. Guess I’ll have to send you some care packages from school.”

  “So.” Dad put his fork down and eyed me in earnest. “Son.”

  Aw, shit. I fought back a groan. Dad didn’t bust out the “son” thing unless he was about to do some heavy talking. Which usually resulted in the two of us having an awkward conversation we both wanted out of after about three seconds.

  “That time of the year again, is it?” I said in a droll tone.

  He frowned. “It’s serious, Joshua. We need to talk.”

  “About what?” Surely I hadn’t done anything. I’d even turned in all my homework and had pulled up my grade in physics. No groundable offenses I could remember.

  Dad cleared his throat, and his cheeks flushed. “I . . .” He tugged at the neckline of his T-shirt like it was strangling him. “So, I was wondering when you were going to tell Ethan you love him.”

  Holy crap. My dad couldn’t have shocked me more than if he’d hit me upside the head with a brick. “You know about that?”

  He barked a laugh. “Are you serious? I’ve known about your feelings for him for a long time. I’ve watched you help him with prom plans recently, and it makes me sad for you. Because I know you’re pretending you don’t care, to save his feelings.” He ate some broccoli.

  I pushed my food around on my plate. Where could I even start with this? “He likes someone else. I can’t change that. And he’s asking the guy on Monday. It’s too late for me to have a chance.”

  He pursed his lips. “Kinda surprised you’re not even trying.”

  I rubbed my brow. “I’m stuck, you know? He asked me for help.”

  “And did you help him?”

  “Well . . . yeah.” Ethan had finally decided on what he was going to do for his promposal. Not as quiet as I’d recommended, but still very personal, with music involved. Noah was sure to flip over it.

  “So you did your part and you were a good friend. But friends don’t keep secrets like this from each other. Don’t you think he’ll be hurt to know you’ve been hiding this from him for so long?”

  I knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that it would impact our relationship for good. I forced myself to finish my tuna steak. “But what if I tell him and he rejects me?”

  Dad put his fork down and gave me a sad smile. “It’s a risk, I know. But sometimes you have to take that gamble and try. I’m not going to push you into it, son. I just want you to be happy.”

  My throat closed up, so I just nodded my response. I knew Dad was right. But did I have the courage to tell Ethan, despite the odds being stacked against me?

  Right now, I just didn’t know.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Camilla

  Mrs. Brandwright walked down the first aisle and handed back graded reports. As she made her way from person to person, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. I’d worked so hard on my project.

  When she reached our aisle, she paused in front of Benjamin first, then me. Her face was unreadable. My hand trembled a touch as I took the report from her.

  A-minus.

  Holy crap. Given what a hard-ass she was when it came to grading assignments, anything over a B-plus was rare.

  I read her handwritten note at the top. Wonderful job, Camilla. I’m so proud of the effort you and Benjamin put into this project. Great analysis, intriguing discussion topics, and good challenges, though I wonder if you couldn’t have pushed yourself just a bit more out of your comfort zone. Other than that, well done. Kudos to you.

  I ripped off a piece of paper and wrote, How was your grade? Then I tapped Benjamin’s left elbow.

  He took the note and after a moment passed it back. A-minus. I’ll take it. Did you read anything good last weekend?

  I grinned. He and I had been passing notes regularly every day for the last couple of weeks. I’d thought it would slow down or stop after our projects were turned in, but on the contrary, it had kept up.

  No books, I wrote. But I busted out my dad’s record player and listened to some Pink Floyd. Do you like any of their music?

  Mrs. Brandwright moved to the front of the class and spent several minutes talking about our projects, which gave me a chance to keep talking to Benjamin. His note back to me said, Their album The Dark Side of the Moon is a classic. My mom got me hooked on them. If you like their stuff, try listening to some old Genesis.

  “—did such a wonderful job, I want them to talk a little bit about what they did.” Our teacher’s smooth voice broke through, and I realized she’d stopped talking. A glance up confirmed she was staring right at me.

  Crap.

  I glued on a smile and shot Benjamin a desperate look.

  Thankfully, the guy came to my rescue. He cleared his throat and started talking, and eventually I got caught up enough to jump in and add my own points. Then the spotlight turned off us, and she began to lecture.

  Deciding I should probably pay attention so I didn’t get busted for passing notes, I flipped my notebook open to a fresh page and jotted down key words and phrases. The period passed fast, and before I knew it, the last bell had rung.

  Benjamin and I dawdled, as usual. We left the room side by side, walking at a comfortable pace down the hall.

  “Thanks for bailing me out,” I told him. “I was distracted.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” he replied with a straight face.

  I should just do it. My pulse thrummed in excitement at the sudden thought. For days now, I
’d been debating if I should ask Benjamin out. Not for a school project or as friends. But on a real date. Where we could talk outside of school, have food or see a movie, maybe even kiss again.

  My lips tingled from remembered sensation, and it was hard not to press my fingers to my mouth.

  I swallowed and steeled my courage. “So. Benjamin.”

  “So. Camilla.” His eyes twinkled.

  We stopped by his locker, and he got his belongings out.

  “Um. I was thinking. That we should, y’know, we should hang out again. I mean, we can do anything, like catch a movie one night. Or get coffee. Or go to a bookstore, maybe.” Oh my God. This was painful. My cheeks burned.

  His hands stilled in his locker, and he kept his face turned away.

  Shit. That wasn’t a good response. My brain scrambled to back out. “But we don’t have to if you’re busy. I’m sure you’re busy. It’s—”

  “I can’t.” His voice was so quiet I barely heard him.

  “Oh.”

  He finally turned to look at me, and his eyes were filled with intensity. “I can’t go out with you. I’m sorry. Zachary likes you way too much.”

  I blinked. “What? What does he have to do with this? He’s my prom date, nothing else.”

  “He’s my cousin.”

  My stomach sank clear to my feet. Of course he was. Because that was totally my luck. How did I not know about this before? I rubbed my brow and kept my attention on the tiled floor.

  “Zachary has talked about you for months,” he continued in a low voice. “It was hard for him to gather his courage to ask you out. I think he’s hoping prom night will help you see a new, romantic side to him.”

  Ugh. God. Why did this have to happen to me? It wasn’t enough that I was forced to go to prom with someone I didn’t like. But now that had to impact something I might have with Benjamin? Not fair. “I see,” I finally said, knowing my frustration was coming through my words.

  He sighed and closed his locker door with a little more strength than was needed. “When he was asking for advice on his promposal, I didn’t know at first that he meant you. And now I feel like an ass because of . . . well, you know.” His gaze skittered away. “I didn’t tell him about it.”

  The kiss. He did regret it, but not for the reasons I’d thought.

  Oh, this sucked. So very much.

  I drew myself up and made myself say, “Okay. Thanks for explaining.” I turned and started walking away before I could do something else mortally embarrassing.

  “Camilla,” he said.

  I turned.

  His cheeks flushed a touch. “When he found out we were doing our school project together, he asked me to remember that he liked you first. He’s my cousin—I can’t hurt him like that.”

  My breathing shallowed, and I clenched my jaw and nodded. Fury washed over me, hot and fast. I spun around and left. Seriously, Zach called dibs on me because he decided we were going to have some great romance at prom? Even though he and I had barely known each other before that—and even now, we’d hardly spoken?

  What the hell?

  I ripped my phone out of my pocket and banged out a message to him. Where are you? We need to talk. Now.

  While I waited, I cleared my stuff out of my locker and sent Joshua a text that I’d be heading home later and would call him soon. My face burned; my chest ached with all the heated words I was biting back. I wanted to slam my head on the metal doors. Yeah, I understood now why Benjamin couldn’t go out with me—you didn’t make a move on someone your friend or relative liked.

  But I’d never given Zach any impression that I was interested in him. He’d crossed a line.

  My phone buzzed. Everything okay?? I’m in the parking lot. Where should we meet?

  I’ll be there in a minute.

  I shoved the double doors open and stepped out into the warm sunshine. But the sun didn’t make me feel better.

  There were only a few cars in the lot, so it was easy to spot Zach standing by his dark blue car. I stomped up to him and struggled to keep myself from yelling in his face. Fresh anger filled my gut.

  “Zach, do you realize we’re going to prom as friends?”

  He stiffened. “Um. Well, I—”

  “We’re friends, Zach. That’s it. In fact, I said yes to your promposal because you asked me in front of everyone in school—and had it filmed, too. There was no way I could say no when you put me on the spot like that.” I knew I was sounding super harsh, but I couldn’t stop from spewing my wrath at him.

  His eyes flashed with deep hurt, and he crammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Seriously? You only agreed because of how I asked you?”

  My stomach turned at the pain on his face, and I felt a flash of guilt. I softened my next words. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you like this, because I thought we could try to be friends and have a good time anyway. But . . . I can’t pretend like it’s going to be more, like it’ll lead to us dating or something. If you want to go with someone else, a girl who might actually like you, I understand.” Not that it would mend anything with me and Benjamin, who would still feel loyalty to his cousin. It appeared that boat had sailed, because of this guy right here and his sense of entitlement, despite my feelings on the matter.

  His lips pursed, and his nostrils flared. “Whoa, are you dumping me?”

  I bit back a frustrated growl. Leave it to him to twist what I was trying to tell him. “I’m saying—”

  “Wait, wait, wait. Is there someone else you like?”

  That got me to shut up. I couldn’t exactly proclaim my feelings for his cousin. That would rub salt into the wound—and embarrass me, too. I was already kind of regretting being so harsh and blasting Zach like this. Yeah, he’d crossed a line with that little stunt he’d pulled, but that didn’t mean I had to, as well.

  His eyes narrowed. “There is, isn’t there. Some other guy you want to go to prom with. And I have a feeling I know who.”

  I lifted my chin and stared down my nose. “That’s not relevant to this conversation. This is about us.” Kinda. Mostly.

  “I should have seen this coming.” Zach leaned back against his car and crossed his arms. “You’ve been avoiding me pretty much since I asked you to prom. I can’t even get you to commit to a color.”

  “Seriously, that’s not fair. You’ve been bombarding me with messages about it nonstop.”

  “Because prom isn’t that far away!” He drew in a slow breath. “Have you gotten your dress, Camilla? Have you even gone shopping yet?”

  I stared at him. He knew I hadn’t—he could tell. And I suddenly felt very guilty. After all, I had said yes. But I’d been putting off shopping for a dress or for fabric because, well, it made it less real that way. “Well, I was planning to soon,” I said, knowing I sounded super lame.

  His voice was quiet as he said, “If I were Benjamin, you’d already have bought your dress.”

  And there it was. I shifted my bag on my shoulder. I was tempted to deny it, but what was the point? He’d find out soon enough that I’d asked Benjamin out on a date. “How did you know?”

  He scoffed. “Seriously? Everyone in school knows. And I look like an idiot because I asked someone who is in love with someone else.”

  A twirl of panic threaded around my stomach and tightened. “What are you talking about, everyone?” How could people know? I hadn’t done anything different lately. Yeah, we’d been talking and hanging out, but that could be blamed on our school project bringing us together.

  Crap. Benjamin didn’t know how I felt, did he? Was that the real reason he’d turned me down, because he didn’t like me like that? Was he just using Zach as an excuse?

  “Yes. He knows,” he said in answer to my unspoken question, and all the air squeezed out of my lungs. His eyes flattened. “I overheard him talking with a few guys about how much you stare at him in your psychology class.”

  A wash of heat covered my cheeks, and I felt sick. Great. I was a jok
e.

  But why had he kissed me?

  Did that really matter? He’d already made it clear he didn’t want to date me, regardless of the real reason.

  “I never meant to lead you on,” I finally told Zach. I was suddenly tired and just wanted to hole up at home. “Sorry.”

  I turned and left. Zach called out my name a couple of times, but I kept walking. My head hurt. My heart hurt. And I felt like a real idiot. This whole time, Benjamin knew I liked him. Had made fun of me behind my back.

  Maybe I didn’t know him like I thought I did.

  When I got home, I kicked off my shoes and went right for the Oreos on top of the fridge. After four cookies, I managed to curb my depression hunger and dug my phone out of my pocket. I shot Josh a quick text asking him if he’d heard any rumors about me liking Benjamin.

  Nothing, he replied. I would have told you. :-P But lemme dig a bit.

  I sighed and ate another cookie.

  “Camilla, is that you?” my mom called from the laundry room. “Did I hear the Oreos bag crinkle? You had better not be ruining your appetite for dinner.”

  “I’m eating my feelings, Mom,” I yelled back. Then I snuck one more cookie, just because.

  “I don’t know what that means, but I am making a big stew for dinner, so I expect you to have your fair share.”

  My phone buzzed. A call from Joshua. Crud.

  “Hey,” I mumbled.

  “Bad day?”

  “You don’t even know the half of it.” I filled him in on my date fail, then my confrontation with Zach.

  “Oh my God,” he said when I finished. “That sounds awful.”

  “Yeah. I’ve already had, like, six Oreos.”

  “Okay, so my news doesn’t get much better. I talked to a friend of Benjamin’s who says yes, Benjamin did bring up that he’d caught you staring at him in class.”

  “Great.” I banged my head on the kitchen table.

  “Before you kill yourself, let me finish. Apparently, it was several months ago, well before you two started talking. And the friend didn’t seem to think he was making fun of you. Just that he was recapping people in your class.”