Woke Up Like This(81)

Renner didn’t expect it either, by the looks of things. There’s a bit of shock in his expression as he accepts his new title and cheap plastic crown. It makes his acceptance even more charming somehow. The crowd doesn’t quiet, even when he says a rueful thank-you. The guy really doesn’t have a single enemy. And it’s easy to see why. He’s walking sunlight.

The crowd finally hushes when Ms. Chouloub clears her throat to announce the next winner. “Your prom queen is . . . Kassie Byers!”

My heart explodes for Kassie as the confetti bomb and balloons fall from the ceiling. She’s dreamed of being prom queen since we were kids. Meanwhile, my goal was just to have a date. Andie looks a little miffed, but Kassie doesn’t notice as she elbows her way to the stage. She looks radiant with the sparkling silver crown atop her head, like it was made for her.

It’s tradition for the royal court to do a slow dance, which works most of the time, when the couple is actually an item. Renner and Kassie aren’t obligated to dance, but they’re both good sports about it, laughing, doing dramatic twirls and spins for the crowd. Ollie doesn’t appear annoyed that he lost in the slightest. He whistles from the sidelines, trying to embarrass them.

I think about all those years ago, when Kassie came over after dinner, vibrating with excitement over the first time she met Renner.

“We made out for like . . . two hours,” she bragged, handing me a globby container of chip dip.

“Two hours?” I asked, in awe, dipping my chip. Making out with someone for that long seemed physically impossible.

She shrugged, fluffing her hair. “Okay, probably not two hours. It might have even been two minutes. Who knows? He’s the best kisser. And the best part? He’s going to MHS.”

She seemed so excited that evening, clutching my pillow to her chest, starry eyes glimmering as she rattled off every detail. That’s why it struck me the next day when she said the kiss was meaningless—no feelings attached.

My mind drifts back to Renner’s words in the hallway. I think we both already know the answer to that.

My fingers tingle with a creeping sense. I think back—well, forward—to being thirty. To the night at Walnut Creek, when Renner told me that he turned Kassie down, despite Kassie telling me otherwise for all these years. I think about the look of confusion on Adult Renner’s face when I accused him of ditching homecoming for another girl. About how there never was another girl. And I finally realize—Kassie lied.

When the song is over, Kassie flops into the chair next to me to rest her feet. “Can you believe I actually won?” she asks, slightly out of breath.

“Of course you won. You’re Kassie freakin’ Byers. That crown looks good on you,” I say on best friend autopilot. I reach to straighten it on her head, but take a shaky breath when I realize what I’m doing. What I always do with Kassie: dismiss her shortcomings and forgive her instantly. But she lied. She’s lied to me about Renner for four years.

This feels too big to ignore. I don’t know why she lied to me, but I need to confront her. Now.

“It suits J. T. too,” she says, as he chats with his adoring fans.

I inch my chair closer to her. “Hey, speaking of J. T. . . . Remind me. What happened with you two?”

She fidgets with her rose corsage, plucking off a dead petal. “Nothing. We made out forever ago. That’s all.”

“Right. It’s coming back to me now. And you never had feelings for him?”

She presses her mouth into a thin line, eyes wide, as though she’s a thief caught midheist. “Why would you think that? Of course I don’t have feelings for J. T. You know how much I love Ollie.” I don’t doubt her love for Ollie. I’ve been reminded of it every minute of every day for the past four years. But that’s not what I asked her.

I sit up straight, spine steeled as it all falls into place. “That wasn’t my question. Did you ever have feelings for him?”

“I . . . um . . . I . . .” She looks flustered. Kassie never looks flustered. “Hasn’t everyone had a crush on him at some point?”

“You didn’t actually turn him down, did you?”

She scratches her arm nervously. “Um . . . well.” Her face says it all.



I storm out of the gym. The air in the hallway is fresh. I sag against the cool brick wall, face in my hands, trying to make sense of this.

Kassie lied to me. For four years she lied. The question is, Why? And the bigger question is, How is all this possible? How could Renner have told me before? Was our conversation—our entire time as thirty-year-olds—actually real? There’s no way. Is it possible I knew, deep down, that she was lying to me? Possibly.

Kassie bursts into the hall, and I finally get the guts to grill her. “Why would you lie about that, Kassie?” I ask, standing to match her height.

She bites her lip and looks down. A crystal from her dress has fallen at her feet. “Because I was embarrassed. And you liked him.”

The image of her face when I told her Renner asked me to homecoming flashes through my mind. Her expression was unreadable. “That’s why you were mad when he asked me to homecoming.”

“I—I . . .” Her voice trails away, at a loss for words.

I shake my head and cross my arms. “And when he ditched homecoming, you lied and said he was with another girl.”