“It’s your turn to order, Char,” Renner says. All the meat on the grill is nearly scorched. Principal Proulx is still paying far more attention to Nurse Ryerson.
“Oh, right.” Frazzled, I accidentally order two hamburgers instead of two hot dogs. I also manage to squirt the entire contents of the mustard container all over my chest.
When the conversation lulls, Clay turns on his heel to go. I squeeze my eyes shut. This can’t be how this afternoon goes. If Renner is going to fall madly in love with Andie, I need to move on. I think about Kassie’s advice—to be bold. Take charge. So I go for it.
“Hey, Clay?” I call after him. “Are you going to prom tomorrow night?”
He turns back and points to his chest, as if to say, Who? Me? “Wasn’t planning on it. I’m not really much of a dancer,” he admits.
“Ah. You didn’t come to the sleepover either. High school traditions aren’t your thing?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“They would be . . . if I had someone to go with,” he says shyly.
A lump lodges in my throat. “Well . . . I’m planning to go.”
“Yeah?”
“Yup. Do you . . . do you want to maybe go with me? If you don’t already have other, better plans.” Good lord. I’m awful at this. I need to go home and lie down.
“Sounds like fun. DM me the details,” he says. “I’ll make sure to download Instagram again.” He flashes the signature Clay Diaz smile before turning away.
A squeal escapes me and I practically dent my paper plate with my fingertips. I just asked Clay Diaz to prom. Clay. Diaz. The guy I’ve been hopelessly and pathetically pining over for the past four years. In what world did I drum up the lady balls to do that?
By the time I remember that Renner was behind me in line, he’s gone.
THIRTY-FIVE
I find Renner back with our group, sharing grapes and flirting with Andie, of course.
Kassie takes a break from sucking face with Ollie to acknowledge my return and I plop down next to them. “What’s up with you?”
“IjustaskedClayDiaztoprom,” I word vomit, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
She blinks. “What?”
“I just asked Clay to prom,” I repeat, handing her my extra hamburger.
Nori sits up and swipes it before Kassie has the chance, and shoves her sunglasses on top of her head. “What? What did he say?”
“He said yes.”
Kassie screeches, which catches everyone’s attention, including Renner’s. “You’re going to prom with Clay.”
“Clay!” I blurt in a poor attempt to match Kassie’s enthusiasm. Strange that she’s more excited than I am?
Everyone congratulates me, except Renner. In fact, he’s turned back to Andie, far too enamored to care. Not that I want him to.
The rest of the afternoon is filled with excited chatter about the details of prom the next night. How we’re doing our hair, what time we’re showing up at Ollie’s for photos, who’s responsible for what tasks.
“You and Clay are gonna look way too adorable in couple photos,” Kassie tells me. “Did you ask him to match your dress?”
I scan the beach for Clay. But there’s no more sign of him, or any of his friends. “We didn’t have time to talk about that. But I’m gonna send him all the details. Tonight.”
Kassie rests her head on my shoulder. “Look at you being bold and going after what you want. I’m so proud.”
I nod, thinking about how I asked two guys to prom in the span of twenty-four hours. I have no idea where I found the strength to do that. But it feels good, despite being turned down by Renner. Then again, I like to believe everything happens for a reason. Had Renner not turned me down, I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask Clay.
This is all I’ve wanted for years. I’ve dreamed of the moment when Clay Diaz would take interest in me. And now, he’s agreed to be my date for prom. I should be doing cartwheels along the beach.
And yet, I can’t seem to summon the excitement I should be feeling.
THIRTY-SIX
Prom day
I expected to wake up on prom morning and spring out of bed all peppy and buzzing. Everything is exactly as it should be. Kassie and I made up. Renner and I are full-on rivals, enemies, foes, nemeses again.
But instead, all I feel when Mom opens my curtains is blah. I just want to hide under the covers. Not because I feel depressed or anything, but because I want it all to slow down. I’ve spent endless hours thinking about Senior Week all year, but it’s crept up faster than I can keep up with, like brick painting, yearbook signing, and now prom. It seems unfair that it all feels so anticlimactic.