Five Years Ago End of Junior Year
I’m almost to the school’s exit when a perturbed-looking Declan darts in front of me without warning.
“Oh my gosh!” I jump back and clutch my collarbone. “What were you doing in the janitor’s closet?” I whisper-yell.
“Shhhhhh.” Declan scurries beside me and grabs my elbow as he drags me through the double doors. “You’re gonna think I’m horrible,” he says in a conspiratorial voice. His eyes ping-ponging around the parking lot.
“I already think you’re horrible.”
“Rude.”
“Kidding. Tell me.”
“The school is exploding with promposals right now. Three of my teammates just got asked. All with one of those elaborate posters with some unoriginal pun, like, “Will you TACKLE prom with me and be my number #1 fan?” Declan mimes gagging. “I think a group of girls banded together and decided they’d be the ones to ask the guys this year. So, we need to leave. Now.”
My head yanks backward with raucous laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Blair. Keep your voice down.” Declan ducks his head at the sound of my cackling like it will draw everyone’s attention, throwing his letterman over my shoulders to hide me. “Not funny!”
“I’m sorry,” I say in exasperation through his huge jacket sleeves covering my face. “It’s just too classic.”
“What’s too classic?” he demands, still preoccupied with scanning the huge lot like we’re in The Walking Dead and will have to dodge rabid zombies soon.
“You and the trail of drooling girls you need to run away from,” I screech, throwing my hands up.
I’ve somehow become so trained at acting like I’m separate, when in reality I am a part of that crowd, and the thought of being just another girl at the back of the line makes my chest feel too tight for my heart and lungs.
Without realizing it, I had envisioned us going to prom together.
More so for the simple fact that we did everything together.
But if this was how he was reacting to the most beautiful girls at our school chasing him down, what made me think he’d want to go with me?
And yet, I still felt a morsel of hope that he would.
“Oh crap,” Declan exclaims, pushing me forward with half his jacket draped over my shoulder. “They’re coming.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know! Squealing and giggling girls with poster board!”
My legs try to match his pace but I’m holding him back. We’re only halfway through the parking lot and the group of three girls are gaining on us.
“Well,” I start, voice tight. “Which one would you rather go with?”
“What?” he sputters.
“Out of all of them, which would you rather go with?” I demand.
“The question itself is faulty, how am I supposed to answer that?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean?”
For a moment, we both forget the plot and stop walking, turning to face each other like we’re about to duel.
“What do you mean ‘what do you mean?’ ” I spit.
“I mean,” Declan huffs a breath, looking behind us at the group of approaching girls and then back to me, leaning in to whisper something by my ear. “The question doesn’t make sense because I’d rather go with you.”
Warm fireworks explode beneath my skin. If I could sparkle from the inside out, this is what it’d feel like.
I can’t help it. The brightest smile I’ve ever smiled detonates across my face.
“Well, you should’ve just said so sooner,” I whisper back into his ear before theatrically falling on one knee.
“Blair, what are you—” he protests, but the slightest tug at his lips gives him away. He approves of the plan.
I crane my neck up, balancing my hands on my bended knee. “Declan Renshaw!” I shout at the top of my lungs, making sure the three girls hear every word. “Will you make me the happiest girl in the world by going to prom with me?”
He stares down at me, and for a horrible moment I think I’ve misread the situation. But then he straightens and shouts back, “Yes! It would be my honor!” He plays along perfectly, overemphasizing the musical quality to each word as if we were eighteenth-century lovers, a dopey grin on his face.
Declan cups a hand over his face so that our audience won’t see as he mouths Now get up! Laughter punctuates each word.
So I do.
We keep walking through the parking lot, clenching our fists to stop the threatening laughter from bubbling out.
When we finally make it to our cars, we turn around to find our suspicions confirmed.
The group of girls has dissolved. Probably right after our timely performance.
He silently pumps his fist in celebration.
“What would I do without your quick wit and ridiculous, unwavering commitment to bits?” he says when they’re out of hearing range.
Bit? I think, foolishly.
I mean, it was one for their sake, but what if it wasn’t for mine?
“Hah!” I choke out. “It’s unimaginable, really.”
“Truly,” Declan agrees, raising his eyebrows before opening his car door.
“But, hey. We do need to follow through and go to prom together. Or else we’ll be found out for the liars we are.
And nobody likes a liar.” He raises his shoulders like what can ya do?
, then disappears behind his car door, slamming it shut.