One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,21

be mad be at me.

Though my heart was pounding at this point, I decided to keep the mood light.

Me: Okay, I admit I hate acid washed jeans myself, but the hair is awesome.

Rocky: Jesse, I was still planning on going to the dance.

Feeling my heart threatening to escape my ribcage, I ground my teeth together. If she had said no to Dwight, maybe she had said yes to somebody else. At the risk of sounding like an overbearing boyfriend, I typed out the one question that I really didn’t want to know the answer to.

Me: Are you going alone?

Rocky: Nah, I was planning on tagging along with Steph.

I calmed down a bit, but still felt on edge.

Me: Surprised she went for that idea.

Rocky: I’ll be there for moral support.

Me: Moral support for what? Watching them make out in front of you?

Rocky: Haha. For your info it’s a girl thing. You wouldn’t understand.

Me: You’re right.

Rocky: Anyway, I have to go. Unlike some people, I have school tomorrow.

Me: Fine. Gnite.

Rocky: Nite

I tossed my phone aside and fell back onto my bed. Shutting my eyes tightly, I imagined a far different scenario where Rocky wouldn’t need to be the third wheel. I’d show up at her door, corsage in hand, ready to treat her like the princess that she was. Once we arrived at the dance I’d never let her go, relishing in the feeling of her soft skin under my hands.

Yeah, that would have been perfect. Too bad I was always far from perfect.

Chapter 8

I’m not a creeper, I promise. However, I admit that everything I did on homecoming night was nothing short of stalker.

First, there was the fact that I sat at the precise street corner, at the precise angle, and at the precise time Rocky was leaving for the dance. I really didn’t know why I did it, but chalked it up to being a masochist with an undying need to torture myself with something that I couldn’t have.

I remained hidden behind a bush, muttering curse words under my breath. “Dwight better not fucking show up if he knows what’s good for him.”

Okay, if I were being honest, maybe I was there to find out if Rocky had lied to me after all. Not that I could fault her; I mean, I had made my feelings about Dwight well known. Still, I couldn’t quiet down my incessant need to protect her from a condom-bearing, horny meathead.

To my relief, it wasn’t Dwight who rolled up to her driveway. I sighed with relief once I heard Steph’s annoying chatter echo through the street.

“Come on! We’re late!” she hissed. “I told you not to spend too long fixing your hair. Look at it! It looks exactly the same.”

Daniel’s shoulders slumped forward. “You know she’s gonna do nothing but cock block us, right? I was hoping we’d have some time together tonight.”

“Like you’d be getting some regardless,” Stephanie replied with a laugh.

I smirked, watching the two bicker as they knocked on the front door. If those two didn’t disturb the neighborhood, I didn’t know what would. I was about ready to plug my ears when suddenly all arguments ceased. In fact, all three of us immediately stilled.

When Rocky walked out of the house…it was as if the world stopped turning. All birds were hushed, crickets quieted, and breezes ceased. Rocky was…I don’t know? Gorgeous? Radiant?

“Beautiful,” I whispered.

Her long hair was piled up into dark curls on the top of her head, making her look like a goddess from Olympus. From her cherry red dress that draped in the front to her golden shoes and accessories, she was like a muse—my muse. All she was missing was a lyre and a cup of ambrosia.

Longing tugged at my bones as I watched the Rossis swarm around the girls (and Daniel), snapping pictures and putting them in ridiculous poses.

“I should be there with her,” I muttered, watching Rocky laugh along with her family. “I should be the one in those pictures.”

Those five stages of grief had nothing on me. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression—the only stage I skipped was acceptance.

I should have been going to that stupid dance.

I should be with Rocky.

My mother shouldn’t be a raging alcoholic.

My father shouldn’t be marrying some woman who isn’t my mom.

Ignoring my better judgement, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the flask I had swiped from my mother’s dresser that morning. I took a swig of liquid courage and headed toward the school. I knew it was stupid, but