Rebel at Spruce High (Spruce Texas Romance #5) - Daryl Banner Page 0,158
killer smile. I can’t believe he’s my boyfriend. I can’t believe this is my beautiful, smart, compassionate, soulful boyfriend I’m gonna get to show off to all of Spruce High tonight.
After a very fast five-minute photo session, we’re ushered to the door. “You guys be safe out there on that bike!” Marlene tells us, making sure to give each of us a kiss on the cheek before we go. “Yeah, and, you know …” adds Carl in a grunt, scratching at his stubble, “don’t do nothin’ that isn’t, uh, safe … or, or whatever.” Marlene nudges him playfully and responds on our behalf: “What are you so afraid of the two of them doing tonight? Knocking each other up? You boys go have fun!” Then she waves us off from the front step, tears in her eyes.
After donning our helmets, Toby puts his arms tightly around my waist, which is a feeling that’ll never get old. “You look damned good tonight, baby,” I tell him over my shoulder, since I barely got a chance to in the house. Toby squeezes me back tighter and says, “Speak for your fricking self, stud muffin.”
Yeah. ‘Fricking’ is still our thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure it was the deciding factor that made Toby say “Yes!” to my promposal.
It was a deceptively simple plan. Toby arrived to school one unassuming Monday to find, upon opening his locker, his favorite moogle doll missing. In its place was a note: “Hi, Toby! It’s me, your friendly dancing moogle! Kupo! I’m taking a little vacation to your first period. See you there! Kupo!” And in his first period, Becky (who was in on it) sent poor Toby to get printer ink from a supply closet, where he found another note stuck to the shelf reading: “I got lost on my way to the office. Maybe I misread the directions and need a lesson in English instead, Kupo …?” Then in Toby’s second period English, of course I got Hoyt in on my plan, who passed a note to Toby that read: “English is … zzz … boring for a moogle. Hey, do you know what sodium polyacrylate is? Me neither! See ya in chemistry! Kupopo!” The scavenger hunt went on and on, sending Toby on a seven-period-long quest—during which I feigned having no idea about anything to do with the mysterious disappearance of his moogle doll, hiding the fact that I’d in fact researched all about those creatures and how they love dancing and interject “Kupo” into every sentence. His quest at last ended in seventh period, where upon entering the theater auditorium, Toby was stunned to find no one there at all. But under a single spotlight on the stage, his moogle doll sat with a final note that read: “I like dancing! Will you go to the fricking Prom Dance with me?” And just as he finished reading the note, all of the lights came on, music blared, and every last person in the theatre department burst out from behind curtains, from under the seats, and from the hallway. Toby was overwhelmed as all his friends started singing at him like some impromptu Broadway-style flash mob, including Kelsey, Frankie, Tamika, and everyone else from our Seaside cast. But that didn’t compare to the teary-eyed look on his face as I came down from the lighting booth where I had been watching the whole thing. I walked the aisle and took his hand at the front of the stage. “Yes!” Toby cried out through the noise of the music, not even waiting for it to die down—or for me to ask the question myself. “Yes! Let’s go to prom together!” And that’s all I needed to hear as I embraced him and put my lips to his.
The whole ordeal must still be fresh on Toby’s mind, because later in the night after we’ve enjoyed a beautiful dinner at Nadine’s and eaten our hearts out, we at last make it to the venue: the very small-town-fabulous ballroom of the Spur Inn back in Spruce, its side doors opened and spilling to a large, extravagantly decorated wooden deck area complete with full catering, a DJ, canopies of flowers, booths for photos, and an enormous dance floor that never stops hopping. Toby and I get lost in the madness, meeting up with all our friends. Kelsey has come with a crowd of theatre peeps who didn’t quite pair up with specific dates, preferring to attend the dance as friends.