pillow in their hands with a crown on top. Both crowns are huge and ornate, trimmed in gold with rhinestones, and definitely not the cheap-looking plastic kind that I’d imagined in my head.
Kyle glances at me, and instead of his usual eager smile, his lips are pressed into a firm, thin line, and he won’t even make eye contact with me.
My breath hitches. Oh God. How could I be so stupid?
That’s when I know. I didn’t win. Hannah probably didn’t either. I want to kick my own ass for being foolish enough to believe that either of us could win.
Principal Armstrong steps back from the microphone and Miranda steps forward. “Good evening, juniors and seniors!” she says. “Kyle and I would like to take a moment to thank the accounting club and Mr. Copeland for tabulating voting results all week including this evening. The numbers have been checked, double-checked, and triple-checked. We would also like to thank Wilson and Meyer Accounting Firm for sponsoring the prom court crowns and sashes and for checking our final count, which was our closest prom court vote on record.”
“Nerds!” someone shouts from the crowd.
Miranda laughs. “Yeah, nerds with 401(k)s and savings accounts. Sign me up.”
A few teachers throughout the room snicker.
Enough already! I nearly scream. Just get it over with.
“Come on!” a girl shouts.
“Crown someone already!”
I hate a heckler, but they’re not wrong.
Miranda sighs into the microphone. “Without further ado . . .”
The DJ plays a drumroll sound clip, and on either side of me Bekah and Callie take my hands, which are slick with sweat. The warmth radiating from their palms spreads up my arms and into my chest, and I decide it’s okay. It’s all okay. I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know where I’ll be at this time next year. I don’t even know who I’ll be. But I know that I love the people in my life, no matter where they are.
I’ve made plenty of mistakes, but I can’t bring myself to regret any of it. The video. The makeup. The lip-synching. The push and pull with Clem. Hell, even Lucas in the back of a grimy gas station. And Tucker. Tucker was definitely not a mistake. My wounds are so fresh they sting, but I’m grateful for him and the person he believed I could be, because it turns out, I am that person. I always have been deep down. I was waiting for my moment. But there is no moment. The only moment we have is now.
I let out a shaky sigh and squeeze both Bekah’s and Callie’s hands. It doesn’t matter which of them wins. They’re both good down to their bones.
I shut my eyes tight since these lights aren’t bright enough to block the audience from my line of sight.
Miranda continues, “We are pleased to announce your prom queen and king are”—Kyle leans into the microphone to join her, and they say in unison—“WAYLON BREWER AND HANNAH PEREZ!”
There are shrieks, cheers, and a few faint boos. Bekah and Callie crowd me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you!” one of them says.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I say over and over again. I might be crying. Or sweating. I can’t tell.
Someone takes my hand and pulls me forward. It’s Hannah. King Hannah. I might have a broken heart and a sister moving halfway across the country, but I think that one of the best things to come out of all of this is . . . Hannah. My friend. Perhaps my best friend outside of Clementine.
Kyle places the sash over my head, and it reads CCHS PROM QUEEN. He lets out a shriek. “They told us the results right before we took the stage. I couldn’t even look at you without giving it away.”
Well, that explains his somber look. I give him a quick hug, because even if Kyle and I are only starting to find our footing, this whole road began with him and his dumb Facebook post.
I turn to Hannah, the crown glittering above her brow and the CCHS PROM KING sash proudly displayed across her chest. “Can you believe this?” I whisper to her.
She lets out a wild giggle. “No. Yes. Yes. No. I don’t even know! I can’t wait to tell my ’lita.” Her eyes begin to water.
I pull her to me in a tight hug. “Stop-stop-stop! You’re going to make me cry.”