Rory
which was a relief, and they’d done their best mugging for the crowd while the wind tried to blow them right off the top of
their red-and-gold float. She’d worn her varsity jacket over her red silk gown and just prayed that it didn’t start raining.
If it did, this dress was toast.
Now, as they stood on the stage at the center of the field waiting for Principal Toohey to announce the winners of king and
queen, Rory was jacketless and her prayers had shifted. Now she was just hoping against hope that she did not win. Because
Tucker was one hundred percent going to be king, and the last thing she wanted to have to do was stand up there next to him
and pretend like she didn’t want to smack his smug little face.
Really, all she wanted to do was go home, put on a pair of sweatpants, and huddle under the covers with the lights off.
This day was not going at all as planned—which she’d come to terms with back when plan A fell through.
But she’d really been counting on executing plan B.
Instead, the weather, Jacob, her parents not showing up, and then that horrendous halftime performance .
. . the universe definitely had it in for her.
And she still had to go to the dance tonight.
If there was one thing Rory Graham knew for sure, it was
that she was in no mood to party.
“Every one of the students up here on this stage represents Woodmont High to the highest possible standard,” the principal
was saying, “with their grades, their spirit, their participation in clubs and sports, and their positive attitudes.”
Rory’s gaze slid toward Tucker, who stood at the far end of the stage. He looked so freaking self-satisfied. She couldn’t
believe that at this time last week she had been walking down the school halls with that jerk’s arm around her.
“Let’s give them a round of applause!” the principal called out.
The crowd cheered. Rory shivered. The man really was dragging this out for as long as humanly possible. Was he incapable of
feeling the cold?
“But there can be only one king and one queen,” he continued once the noise died down. “So without further ado . . .” He pulled a card out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, which he wore over a red wool sweater and tie. “This year’s homecoming king and queen are . . .”
Rory closed her eyes. Not me, not me, not me.
“Rory Graham and Tucker Panagopoulos!”
Her eyes popped open. The crowd went wild. Cora Larsen, the senior girl next to Rory, wrapped her in a hug.
“Come on up here, Rory!” the principal called.
Rory’s vision swam a bit as she approached the front of the stage. Tucker was already there and somehow already had his crown
on. It looked perfect on him. He was born to be homecoming king, with that square jaw and those broad shoulders. She should
have been happy. Ecstatic, even. But all she felt was panic and regret.
When she reached the microphone, the principal placed the queen’s tiara atop her head. It was gold with little red rhinestones
and matched her dress perfectly. The little combs on the sides bit into her scalp as it was pressed down. She could see Layla
and Gwen and the rest of the squad applauding and jumping up and down. Tucker looked at her like he couldn’t have been more
in love with her.
He reached over and hugged her, whispering in her ear, “See, Rory? It was meant to be. You and me.”
And then, before she could even formulate a response, he slipped his hands around her waist and kissed her.