by Taylor Hart
Prom Diaries
Taylor Hart
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
About the Author
Excerpt from Finding You
Additional Works
Title Page
Copyright Information
All rights reserved.
© 2015 ArchStone Ink
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC, South Jordan, Utah.
www.ArchStoneInk.com
First eBook Edition: 2015
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To my husband, Mark. For loving me, supporting me, and being the man I want to go to prom with for the rest of my life . To my four amazing sons, Daniel, Grant, Jacob, and Benjamin. The sky is the limit—dream big! Live like every day is your last!
Chapter 1
Once upon a time there were two girls who grew up wishing for one thing…the perfect prom.
Dear Prom Diary,
Four Days to get Drake Davis to ask me to be his prom date.
This might be ridiculous, keeping a Prom diary. At least that’s what Shay says. Even though she’s the whole reason I’m keeping this diary. She doesn’t want to hear about Drake anymore. What kind of best friend doesn’t want to hear about the boy her best friend likes? She calls my need to be his prom date some kind of ‘maniacal obsession’ with Drake Davis.
It’s not maniacal.
Ahh. Drake Davis. Doesn’t his name just inspire you? It rolls right off the tongue. I’ll tell you what else is inspiring about him…he’s hot. Six foot one. Dark brown hair, shaved on the sides and longer on top, so he has to kinda jerk his head to the side to get the hair out of his eyes. His very blue eyes. Ohmygosh, blue eyes. Ocean blue. Beautiful. He also has a dimple I’ve seen once when he laughed at something.
Shay never had a problem hearing about him…until today at school when she told me he creeped her out. Like she can talk, she’s head of prom planning committee, which creeps me out. She’s certifiable about it. She takes prom planning as serious as one might plan out a trip to Buckingham Palace.
She says if Drake was going to ask me to prom, he should have asked me sooner, but…I don’t have to be that girl—the kind that has two or three prom dates in waiting—like Shay. She refuses to accept a date until she has all offers on the table.
That’s unrealistic for me and Drake. Because Drake and I don’t really know each other. He moved here last year and has always been somewhat of a mystery.
He’s a basketball player. Number twenty-two, outside guard. He’s quiet, but I’ve never even realized that until lately. I could swear he notices me, too. Three days ago in PE, we were running the mile and I got so tired and I almost fell and he stopped and put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I was okay. Did you hear that? Hand. On. Shoulder.
There was this warm chill thing that zinged through me…and I knew. That we are meant to be. Well, okay, at least meant for something—meant for prom. I know he hasn’t asked anyone else, so that’s good.
Okay, what else? Henry is his closest friend. Henry is also Goth, artsy, and very anti-social, from what I can tell.
Drake is not Goth, so that’s good.
If I wasn’t ‘maniacally stalking’ Drake, I wouldn’t have noticed the two hanging out so much. But I see them. At the edges of the fence after school by the shop garage. I only park over there because I always get to school late. I have the worst luck with parking spots.
But they’re out there—talking and laughing.
Anyway, today, when we were leaving school, I went past them and Drake looked at me. Not like looked at me like he didn’t see me. No, this time he looked at me and then he did that whole chin up kind of thing.
That’s when Shay told me I was on my own.
Sigh. Well, I don’t care. I’ll find a way to get him to ask me to prom.
So the countdown is on—I have four days left!
Chapter 2
Shay and I hustled toward the school. She stopped me for a second and put her fist into the air. “Prom forever,” she grinned.
It was our thing. The thing we’d done since the sixth grade. But I pushed on, miffed I couldn’t talk to her about Drake.
“Hello, Lacy Ann O’Donnell, I’m talking to you.” She said louder.
I smiled and put my fist out. I could never stay mad at her. I bumped her fist. “Prom forever.” We kept walking and I looked for Drake. I thought about the crazy dream I’d had last night, about being at prom, dancing with bright, silver stars hanging all around me. I could almost remember Drake’s hand in mine, the way our fingers intertwined. But it wasn’t Drake’s face that had popped into my mind. I shuddered and realized it’d been a random kid in my Algebra II class this year. No. No. No. “Have you ever had a dream so vivid that it felt like it wasn’t a dream?”
Shay stopped walking and frowned, digging into the side of her backpack. “You need some peppermint, that will help you wake up.”
This was typical Shay. She loved essential oils and used them every chance she got on me.
“I’m fine.” I walked by ‘the spot’ where Drake had looked at me yesterday and warmth filled me.
“Seriously?” Shay stopped digging in her bag and stared at me. “Are you thinking about Drake? Get over him!” She stalked toward the school. “We have to hurry, I have a meeting with the principal when the bell rings.”
I walked faster, still reeling as I thought about seeing him yesterday. “I’m not getting over him.”
We got to our locker and Shay flung it open and cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’ve got to stop with this…this…whatever it is you have for Drake. Remember, you don’t have time for much, there’s prom in four days and the committee’s meeting tonight!”
I shrugged and put my backpack into the locker, ignoring her accusation. “I have time for Drake—and prom. Maybe he’ll ask me today.”
Shay tapped my shoulder. Hard. “Hello, earth to Lacy—he’s not Edward Cullen. He’s just…nothing, plus he and Henry have always thought they were above the law, they’ve messed up every single dance ever I’ve put on.” If Shay was in a cartoon right now, steam would have been coming out of her ears. “It never changes, it never will. But, let’s not
focus on that.”
“Chill,” I said. “What are you even talking about?” I couldn’t remember anything that Drake and Henry had ever messed up. Prom planning had turned her into an extra big, more than usual crazy person at the moment.
“Chill? Chill?” She stuck out her chin and shook her head. “You talk about him all the time and stare at him like some stalker when we go to your car. When Marc sits next to us at lunch you act like he’s not even there.”
“Marc?” She’d hit a nerve. “What does Marc have to do with this?”
Shay’s hands flew up and her overly big headband looked like it was squeezing her head too tightly. “Have you not noticed him hinting around about the Prom? Really?”
“Oh.” Thoughts of Marc rambling about the dance and the cheesiness of it washed over me. “Oh.” I swallowed. I’d always liked Marc, he’d been part of our ‘group,’ he’d never been more than a friend. “I…”
The bell rang.
“You’re going with Marc, aren’t you?”
I was flustered. “He hasn’t asked me.” I challenged back.
She slammed the locker shut. “I swear, we do this again and again—focus, it has to change, to CHANGE!”
I shook my head, taken aback by her anger. “You’re making no sense.”
Shay glared at me. “I need a complete energy cleanse after talking to you.” She fluttered her hands around the air. “You wouldn’t notice if an alien took over planet earth unless Drake was leading the charge.” She shook her head and moved toward the principal’s office. “And he’s NOT worth it. I’ll see you at lunch.”
Dazed and a little annoyed that Shay was making such a big deal about this, I rushed to English Lit. I thought about Marc. His sandy blond hair and pale, green eyes. He’d been there a lot for me the past year with everything with my mom, but…I’d never thought about him as more than a friend.
Although he had been offering to be my partner a lot lately, and he had said a lot of jokes about prom. Not to mention the fact he’d been at the last student council committee meeting and he’d sat right next to me and kept trying to grab my pen.
Really? Did he really like me?
I rushed into English Lit and I couldn’t stop myself from blushing as I took my seat next to Marc.
He had a grin on his face and immediately squinted at me. “What’s up with you?”
I could feel my face burning as I opened my notebook and tried to put on a ‘not’ weird face. “Nothing.”
Mr. Klam stood at a podium in front of the class with his glasses already perched on his nose and a copy of Romeo and Juliet held out in front of him. He cleared his throat, loudly. “Please get out your books and be ready to read along from where we left off last class.”
My thoughts were jumbled as I opened my book and felt Marc still looking at me. He nudged my shoulder. “What’s your deal today?”
I glanced over at him and knew my fake smile, the one Shay told me looked fake, was in place. I shook my head. “Nothing.”
He frowned. “Coulda fooled me. You look like you’ve just had one of those recurring dreams you have.”
“Ha, ha.” I tried to act normal. I’d told him about my prom dream the other day when we were hanging out.
“Did my heart love til now? forswear it, sigh! For I ne’er saw true beauty til this night.” Mr. Klam put his Shakespeare book down on the podium and pushed his glasses back. “What does that mean?”
My heart raced as I purposefully ignored Marc staring at me as I thought about Drake. I looked up at Mr. Klam and had no idea what to think.
Of course Mr. Klam motioned right at me. “Lacy, what do you think?”
Dang. Dang. Dang. Seriously! “Umm…” I tried to find where he had just read. “Umm.”
“Did you read the assignment last night?”
“Yes.” I answered too quickly, making me sound guilty. “Yes, I did.”
His lips pinched for a second, then opened into a smile. “C’mon, Lacy, this is the good part. This is the part that makes the reader question if Romeo really is in love with Juliet.” He walked around the podium and through the row of desks toward me. “This is the part that Romeo uses to justify his love—he says, ‘I ne’er saw true beauty til this night.” He squeezed a fist and held it up in the air. “Think about that, class.” He paused next to me, but pivoted in a circle. “Have you ever suddenly seen something that changed your life? That made everything normal, inexplicably different?” He paused, but no one answered. “That moment that changes you. Some say true love is that moment.” He tapped on my desk and looked down at me. “What about you, Lacy? Has true love made you see everything different?”
The class laughed, and my face burned brighter. “Umm…”
Mr. Klam winked at me and shook his head, moving back to the front of class. “Don’t answer yet, Lacy,” he grinned. “If you have to think about it, it hasn’t happened to you, yet.”
He continued reading more Shakespeare and I pretended to follow along but all I could think about was Drake. I wasn’t naïve enough to think I was in love with the guy. I could be on my way though—in total pre-love. Pre-love only takes a little encouragement to bloom. An invitation to prom would be just the sort of encouragement our love needed.
Class ended and Marc waited next to my desk.
Claire Winters walked past him and then stopped. “Hey, Marc.”
Marc gave her a half smile. “Hey, Claire.”
She looked like she wanted to say more, but then nodded at me and continued walking.
I gathered my stuff. “Claire looks good today,” I encouraged.
The side of his lip turned up as he fell into step beside me. “I like redheads.”
Gaa. Of course he would say that, because I am a red head. One of the only ‘real’ redheads in my entire class.
We walked toward Algebra II, he was in that class too and it was sort of a tradition to walk together. I never thought about it anymore. Until now. Until stupid Shay had put all these weird things in my head. “How’s the shop?” I tried to ask a normal question. His father owned the hardware shop on Main Street.
Marc jolted back for a second. “Good. Good.” He answered back. “Hey, I wanted to ask you…” but he trailed, looking like he was trying to find the right words.
My gut tightened and I thought how disappointed he would look when I turned him down. Because I would turn him down. I couldn’t go to the dance with him if I had these feelings for Drake, could I? That didn’t seem fair or right. I paused next to the drinking fountain.
Marc grinned and paused next to me as I got a sip of water. “So, I was thinking…”
No. No. No.
Without warning or preamble, someone ran down the hall. The kind of run that jostled everyone and made us all turn to see what was going on.
I pulled back from the drinking fountain and searched for the culprit. Then, just as fast and just as quickly, someone rammed into me. I went flying and all of my books flailed out of my arms. A deep, aching stab of breath went out of me. I momentarily wanted to scream and cry at the same time. I was on the floor, students all around, with something pinning me down. It was heavy and large and completely unseen. The smell of Irish Spring soap wafted through me.
“I’m sorry, Lacy.”
I looked around, but no one was next to me. But the words had come from right next to me, right by my face.
The pressure disappeared and I sucked in a breath.
Everything went into a fury, people bent over me. Marc pushed people back and told them to give me air.
The bell sounded and most of the crowd dissipated. My Alegbra II teacher, Ms. Jennings, appeared next to Marc and a few seconds later my father appeared.
My father, the calculus teacher. A class I would never take, much to his chagrin. He put his hand to my forehead and frowned, looking down the length of me and his frown went deeper. “Are you okay, Lacy?”
His touch comforted me. I remembered being little and
laying in my bed with a fever and the way his touch always calmed me.
Marc stood next to my father. “Mr. O’Connell, it was crazy. Something like tore through here and hit her.”
I sat up, inhaling deeply. “I’m okay.” I thought of those whispered words ‘I’m sorry, Lacy.’
I felt the back of my head and my father agreed with Ms. Jennings that Marc would accompany me to the office to be inspected by a nurse.
My father gently hugged me, his hand fluttered against my head as he smoothed my hair. “Sure you’re okay?”
I nodded and tried to smile and be okay, he needed me to be okay. The last year had been hard on him. I’d learned one important lesson—it was easier to stay together than it was to fall apart and have to be put back together again. So I was okay. “I’m fine. Really.” I took his hand and squeezed it for a second before pushing forward.
Marc gave me an outstretched arm to lean on and I stumbled down the hall to the office.
I would have to figure out where that smell came from, and who whispered to me when my head quit hurting so much.
Chapter 3
“My best friend gets a head injury and goes home and I’m the last one to know? This is uncalled for!”
Even though Shay’s over concern translated into overly loud, I kept the phone to my ear. “Shh.” I was laying on my parents’ bed, with my mother’s picture against my chest. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine.”
“Then why did you go home?”
“Because I hit my head.”
Shay let out a loud breath. “I know you fell and hit your head.” Her voice was clipped and angry. I know she didn’t mean to sound angry, it was just what she did when she was scared, she got angry.
“Calm down.”
Immediately I heard her take another, slower breath. I could picture the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just worry.”