The Anti-Prom - By Abby McDonald Page 0,65

full-on.” I wander back out into the bedroom. She follows. “I mean, he was texting all night,” I go on, “saying how much he missed me, how he couldn’t wait for us to spend some time together.”

“Sounds sweet.”

Kaitlin’s voice is kind of pinched. I feel a swell of satisfaction, the first bit of real emotion I’ve managed since getting here.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t bitch about it.” I give her a grin. “It’s nice, that he isn’t afraid to tell me how much he loves me.” This time, she definitely looks pissed, so I keep going. “Some guys will just fool around, you know, but Cameron always says how special I am. Don’t you think that’s great?”

“Great.”

We push through the crowd to the kitchen, and Kaitlin grabs the nearest cup of punch from Nico’s outstretched hand. “Hey!” he protests, but she chugs it down in one long gulp.

I watch her, wondering why she’s so rattled. I would have figured she’d be smug, knowing she’d taken something behind my back, but instead she seems genuinely annoyed at all my stories of Cameron’s devotion and love.

Maybe she thought he’d dump me for her.

I almost laugh out loud. That’s it! Kaitlin figured she could steal him away — show me up, and get the guy too. No freaking way.

“I got you something.” Cameron appears beside me as the rest of the group clusters into the room. I feel Kaitlin’s eyes on me, so I slide my arms around his waist and snuggle closer.

“I like presents.” I smile at him, but inside I’m cold.

He grins. “I was going to give it to you earlier, but . . . uh, anyway, here you go.” He pulls something from his pocket and drops it in my hand.

I look down. It’s a tiny heart-shaped pendant, fixed to a slim gold chain. Did he have it in his pocket while he was groping her, too?

The thought throws me, but then I remember that everyone’s watching. I make sure to gasp loudly.

“It’s gorgeous!” I say, holding up the necklace. “Look, Kaitlin, isn’t this cute?”

She glares at me for a second, then pulls herself together. “So cute!” She squeals, coming closer to admire it. “Cam always has the best taste.”

“Not always,” I say sweetly, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “But this time, he does.”

Cameron flushes, trapped between me and Kaitlin. Now, at least, he’s got the decency to look guilty.

“Thanks, sweetie,” I coo, pulling him down for another kiss, a real one this time. I count to ten with my tongue in his mouth, hearing the other guys whoop and Brianna complaining for us to get a room. “Later.” I wink, coming up for air.

Kaitlin scowls, stomping out of the room. I step away from Cameron, but he grabs at me. “I said later.” I try to laugh, crossing quickly to the fridge to put some space between us.

I pour a glass of water, listening as the gang talks behind me. It’s suddenly hot in here — hot, and loud, and way too packed with people. I feel dizzy.

“You OK?”

I jump at the voice. Courtney is looking at me, concerned.

“Yup! Fine!” I realize the machine is still running, spilling water into the overflow. I turn it off and give her a bright grin. “What about you — any new developments?” I nod in Kellan’s direction to distract her. He’s arm wrestling Nico for the last of the chips, his biceps straining against his shirt. Courtney sighs, getting this glazed look in her eyes, and right away, I’m forgotten.

“No, but we danced together earlier, which has to mean something, right? I mean, it wasn’t a slow song or anything, but he was focused on me the whole time. OK, so maybe not the whole time, because I saw him checking out Taryn’s butt, but like, it’s Taryn’s butt — it would be weird if he didn’t look. . . .”

By four a.m., I’m ready to sleep for twenty hours straight, but somehow, the party is still going strong. Music thumps from the living room, a bunch of football guys are playing table hockey on the formal dining table, and our group has colonized the den to chill out and pick over the gossip of the night. At least, they are: sprawled on the couch with Cameron as my personal pillow, I can barely stay awake to pay attention.

“. . . in pink instead. Don’t you think, B?”

“What?” I yawn, looking around.

Brianna laughs, throwing popcorn at my head. “Don’t worry, just planning.