The Anti-Prom - By Abby McDonald Page 0,69

about everything.

“You look great in that dress.” Nico doesn’t notice my fugue, or if he does, he doesn’t care. He slides in even closer, so I can feel his body just inches away; lets his gaze drift over the tight bodice and ruffled skirt. “It’s cute.”

I roll my eyes at his weak line, but I don’t pull away when he leans in and kisses me unceremoniously on the lips. His mouth is soft and hot, and for a moment I think there could be a way to forget everything after all.

Hands and teeth and the tree, hard against my back; just make it all go away.

We’re both breathing heavier by the time Nico grabs my arm and begins to lead me out toward somewhere. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

He shrugs. “Does it matter?”

No. It never does. A backseat, a dark alley; it’s all the same. I know where he’s leading; I know it too damn well. But what’s wrong with that?

And then I hear my own words, echoing back in my head.

You’re better than this. Than him.

What I told Bliss there in the dorm room, about throwing herself away on stupid guys and stupid lies. I know now that it wasn’t even true — she’s not better than this.

But I am.

I pull away.

“What?” He blinks at me, confused. “It’s cool. Nobody’s going to see.”

“How sweet.” I feel myself slip back together, a handful of broken pieces finding some kind of shape and order. The edges hurt like hell, but it’s something. Something whole. “Look at you, so worried about my reputation.”

Nico just reaches for me again, so I duck around him. “You know what? You’re right. A girl can’t be too careful about these things.”

I keep it light, joking even. I’m not looking for another fight, even though it’s clear I could lay him out in five seconds flat if it went that way. Nico clearly realizes it too; he scowls at me like a boy who’s lost his toy, but doesn’t try and stop me as I yank my dress straps up and walk away from him, back through the garden. I pass other couples, intertwined in the shadows, but they don’t look up. Everybody is caught up in their own drama. Everybody is just out for themselves. Sure, the barrier came down for a while tonight, in the buzz of those pranks, and the unexpected friendship of Bliss and Meg. But they’ve returned to their rightful places, and I’m still stuck on the outside, where I belong.

It’s time to go home.

“There you are!”

I’m barely ten steps away from him when Bliss comes charging toward me. She skirts the pool, looking like a slumber-party exile in that pajama outfit. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“And?” I take in her anxious expression and want to laugh. Sure, now I get the apology, when none of her precious friends are around to see. “I don’t want to hear it, OK?” I start to walk away, but Bliss won’t quit so easy. She trots at my heels, and for a moment I flash back to the start of all of this: back at the country club, getting roped into the whole deal to begin with. I figured it would be so, so simple. Never again.

“Jolene, wait.” Bliss grabs my arm. I fix her with a glare, but I guess she’s immune by now. “I really need to —”

“What, apologize?” I cut her off, shaking. “No need. I got the message, back inside. You know, with all your friends?”

I was wrong. I’m not completely numb — there’s still a slice of anger left in me for this. For her.

Bliss blushes like she’s actually ashamed. Or maybe she’s just worried about being seen with me. The pool area is quiet, lights reflecting in the dark water, but there are people still up on the balcony, and stragglers making out among the trees. “I know, I should have said something, but . . .” She trails off, biting her lip.

“But you didn’t.” I finish for her. “You didn’t do a damn thing.”

“I know!” She quivers. “You don’t think I get how bad that was? I felt like the worst person ever.”

“Aww,” I drawl, ignoring how distressed she actually looks. “You poor thing. You feel bad for acting like a total bitch. Hang on while I weep for you.” I’m tight-lipped, my hands clenched, mad at myself for even caring how this shallow, rich waste of space treats me. Bliss Merino has been and will always