CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Michael
Richard storms into Lily’s while yawning. “It’s too late for this,” he exclaims as he sits beside me in the lounge.
“Cookie?” I extend a basket to Richard. My midnight snack for today is three servings (maybe four) of Kate’s chocolate chip cookies. I don’t know what sort of sorcery she puts in them but they’re highly addictive. I balance it out with some non-fat milk to make me feel good about myself.
“I’m sorry, but we’re running out of time,” Kate says as she emerges from the shelves, holding a bottle of instant coffee.
“Kate, it’s a year-end party, not doomsday.” Richard takes a bite of the cookie in his hand.
“Ooh, doomsday,” Haley says, grabbing the cookie from Richard’s hand. “That’s a nice theme, don’t you think?” We all stare at her in disbelief. “What? Everyone dressed in black? Skull shaped confetti? No?”
Kate shakes her head as she takes the seat across from me.
Since our weirdly honest talks in my backyard and during the popsicle puppets session, she’s been…
kinder to me. It’s been a week, but we haven’t had any major disagreements.
Sure, she’s still sarcastic and snappy at times, but definitely nicer.
I don’t know if it’s because she’s starting to feel bad about maintaining her reputation, if she’s scared I might rat her out to her friends, or that she finally decided I don’t deserve her true self. I hope it’s not the last one.
“I think something nostalgic would be nice. Last year, we didn’t have much of a party because of Bon and Ryan’s wedding. And we really enjoyed dancing along to old music.”
“Yeah, but it should be nostalgic for us, not for the old people.” Haley kicks off her shoes and puts her leg up on the ottoman. “I mean,” she continues, “No offense to our titas who peaked in the 80s, but I want something we can relate to this time. They always get their disco music.” She frowns.
“Okay,” Kate says, scribbling on her notepad. “That’s a good idea, since this is the first time in a while that all four of us are here for the year-end. Even Em and Josh are coming home.”
“Of course, they wanna parade how perfect they are.” Haley rolls her eyes but laughs.
It’s nice to be part of this group. Besides my teammates, I’ve never been part of a friend group before. But these people are fun to be around. They don’t make me feel like an outsider.
“So, we’re thinking an early 2000s party?” I ask.
“Yeah, Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys…” Kate trails off.
“Or, maybe, we can move a bit later to when we were actual teenagers,” Richard interjects. “So I’m thinking 2008.”
“That is early 2000s, dumbass,” Haley says.
“I think that’s mid.”
“The only thing mid about 2008 was your fashion sense.”
Kate laughs and Richard groans. “For the record, you were also wearing neon wristbands and shutter shades.”
Haley just smacks him in the head playfully and they laugh.
I laugh too, though I’m still not entirely sure where their bickering ends and something else begins.
There’s definitely a weird kind of energy between them—like they’re always one step away from either fighting or kissing.
Not that it’s any of my business. But still. No one’s that close as just friends.
“What if,” Kate says, lifting her head from her notes, “we do, like… a prom theme?”
The room falls quiet. We all consider it for a moment.
“Well, I’ve never been,” I admit, a little sheepishly.
Haley turns to me, genuinely surprised. “Wait, what? Why?”
I shrug. “I was in Indonesia for a basketball thing that week. I didn’t even think about prom. I didn’t have a girlfriend. I was obsessed with training.”
“Damn, in high school? You really are a prodigy.” Richard nods at me, half impressed, half teasing.
“Well, our proms sucked anyway,” Kate says with a wave of her hand. “I’d love a do-over.”
“You’re all welcome, by the way,” Richard adds, leaning back like he’s done us all a favor. He looks at me. “I took all four of them to prom. Haley, Kate, Bon, and Em.”
“Please,” Haley says, rolling her eyes. “I went with you because I lost a bet. Kate and Bon only went with you because their actual dates sucked, and Emily spent most of the night studying anyway.”
“Still counts,” Richard replies with a smug grin.
“So that’s it, then?” I ask, glancing around. “We’re doing prom?”
There’s a beat of silence, then Haley shrugs. “Honestly? I’m into it.”
Kate’s already writing “PROM” in big letters across the top of her notes. “We can make it look really good this time. Better than high school ever managed.”
Everyone bursts with suggestions on the music, the decor, the food, everything. I’m only half listening, because I can’t believe I’m excited about a prom party ten years too late.
“Are they always like that?” I ask Kate the second we step out of Lily’s, the bell jingling behind us like it’s laughing too.
Kate snorts, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself. “Who? Richard and Haley?” I nod, glancing back through the window where Richard is still trying to steal Haley’s fries and getting smacked for it.
“Yeah. Every time anyone points it out, they just laugh it off, act like they’re horrified, and then move on like nothing happened. So... we don’t really know. We’ve given up trying.”
“Huh.” I shove my hands in the pocket of my hoodie. “Feels like a lot of energy just to deny a crush.”
She grins. “Welcome to Magnolia Heights. Where people know everything about each other but pretend they don’t… and vice versa.”
Fair enough. I don’t push the Richard and Haley thing. Instead, I switch lanes.
“What made you think about prom?” I ask, casually kicking a pebble down the sidewalk as we walk.
Kate shrugs, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her tote bag. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” I say immediately. “There’s a reason, I’m sure. Frustrated prom queen?”
She ignores me, so I stop in front of her to stop her from walking. She skids slightly, then groans. “You’re so annoying, I hope you trip on that pebble.” She points to the pebble in front of me.”
“I hope you trip on every pebble.” I kick it toward her. She kicks it back.
She glares at me, but I don’t move. “Ugh. Fine,” she says.
“Thank you,” I say brightly. I return to walk beside her as she continues to stare me down.
She drags her feet dramatically for a few steps, then sighs. “You probably already know this anyway.” She pulls out her Kindle from her bag, clutching it to her chest. “I’m a hopeless romantic.”
Kate says it like she’s confessing to a crime. Like she expects me to laugh, or worse, look horrified.
Instead, I lift my eyebrows, fighting a grin. “Wow. Earth-shattering news. A woman believes in love!”
She gives me an annoyed look, but there’s a smile hiding there too.
“I’m serious,” she insists. “I believe in the dumb stuff. Like grand gestures. Public declarations. Cheesy speeches. Running through airports. Standing in the rain like an idiot. All the things Taylor Swift writes about.”
For a second, she’s quiet. Maybe wondering if I’m about to laugh in her face. And honestly, I should. Because it’s ridiculous. Except... I don’t know. I kind of get it.
I nod slowly. “Hard to believe a devil like you is a lover of love.”
She elbows me playfully. “Kidding aside,” I say after a second. “I get it. Believing in something even if it sounds impossible... sometimes that’s the only thing that keeps you from turning into a total cynic.”
I should know. I spent most of high school believing that if I worked hard enough, chased the dream hard enough, I could fix everything. Family, future, fear—all of it. I thought winning a scholarship, traveling overseas, breaking records would somehow mean I’d made it. That I’d be untouchable.
Turns out, real life doesn’t care about fairy tales.
But some small, stubborn part of me still hopes for them anyway. Maybe someday all the glory will feel enough.
We keep walking, her Kindle clutched to her chest like a shield. “It’s not easy, though,” she continues. “Real life isn’t as… predictable. There’s no guarantee of a happily ever after.”
“Yeah, so?” I ask.
“What do you mean, so?”
“It just makes it all the more interesting, don’t you think? If everything is guaranteed, that’s boring as hell.”
“Yeah, but that would be a lot easier. You could easily weed out the terrible guys and lock down on the one you’ll marry,” she says dreamily.
“Ah,” I reply. “Been having a hard time going through your potential husband list?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound like I’m prying into her dating life. Not that I care about that.
She laughs. Loudly. I don’t know why because I’m not even joking. “Yeah, okay.” She looks at me like she’s confused why I’m not laughing back, then she adds, “Right, you’re new here. I, uh… never had a boyfriend. There. You can laugh now.” She’s still chuckling, but her eyes aren’t crinkled.
“I’ll laugh… because that’s a joke, right?” I stare at her in disbelief. She’s not wearing a floral dress today. I discovered that she doesn’t do that when she’s only lounging at home. Her hair is tied to a messy bun, the curls escaping one by one.
“I wish,” she says.
I stop short. “Seriously?” Kate is a few steps ahead of me, but she halts and looks over her shoulder. “Not even one?” I add.
“Nope. Zilch.” She faces me, and chuckles. “Most I got is a peck on the cheek by my fifth-grade classmate in the school play. And only because he thought I was Haley.”
I’m still not answering, so she continues.
“It’s always been like that. I’m not double-take pretty like Emily, I don’t have this sunshine personality like Bon, and I’m not effortlessly witty and intimidating like Haley.
Most guys would talk to me as a warmup act to get to them, or the girl they actually liked. ”
My brows furrow and I shake my head. “I still don’t buy it. You? Single since birth?”
“You don’t have to rub it in, you know.” She rolls her eyes.
I walk a few steps toward her. We’re almost at her house, and I can hear the faint whisper of the neighborhood chatter.
“I’m not rubbing it in, I just can’t believe it, that’s all.
” Because Kate is… well, she’s pretty. Not in an obvious way like the celebrities plastered on magazines and billboards.
It’s more… subtle. When you notice a painting in the corner of a room and wonder how you missed it the first time.
And on top of that, she has this topnotch personality. She can handle banter like a pro. Can bake like a pro. And she’s nice to kids and animals. How can a woman like that be single since birth?
“Well, believe it.” She shrugs, like it doesn’t matter.
But something about the way she says it makes me think it does.