3. The Wrong Date
The Wrong Date
Solace
Jude Ransom. Varsity goalie since freshman year.
Untouchable on the field. Untouchable, apparently, everywhere else too.
The thing about wearing his jersey, was that it put a target on my back.
Even when he had a girlfriend, it didn’t seem to matter, because it was his name across my back.
For a while, they (the entirety of our school and our tiny boring town) teased us.
'Us' was so incredibly generous. They teased me. Hardly ever him.
High school was the worst, and it wasn’t lost on everyone that Jude and I weren’t a thing. Never had been, and apparently never would be. Over the years the senseless jabs about our friendship eased as it became less weird to all of them, even if it only grew weirder to me.
When I first told him I couldn’t make it to his game because of prom, he blew the answer off entirely, but after the third time, his voice dropped and his jaw clenched. “You’re going, Solace. I’ll pick you up myself.”
The certainty threaded through his tone settled somewhere deep in my chest. He meant it. I would know, because he had on numerous occasions undermined me, texted my mom telling her we had plans, and his Jeep would roll into the driveway a few minutes later.
On those nights, he’d usher me into the car, drive downtown, and place me in the stands.
He often packed a thermos of hot chocolate and wrapped me in a blanket as I watched him warm-up on the field two hours before the rest of the team even showed up.
I stayed far past the dimming stadium lights as he changed out of his gear, and the last bodies filed out of their seats.
In the same way, I’d forced him to sit through nearly every piano recital and every play.
Sure, he’d grumble about it and complain he didn’t understand the story, but he’d still sit in the front row with the largest bouquet in hand every single time.
And that was the end of it, we showed up for each other.
Which is exactly why prom became a ghost between us. Number one: because I was missing his game. Number two: because he hated Gabe.
We talked about everything else—homework, band, practice schedules, college applications, stupid videos he sent at two in the morning—but never Gabe.
Never the looming event, and never the fact that every time his name came up in conversation, Jude’s mouth flattened as if he’d bitten into something sour.
As if it didn’t exist at all, like it hadn’t been sitting there between us like a loaded gun, Jude texted me a few hours before prom.
Hey. Game was cancelled due to weather. Can I swing by? Need to drop Milo’s game off.
Wanna grab dinner?
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed. Until my reflection stared back at me—curled hair pinned, makeup half done, dress hanging from my closet door.
It wasn’t even the offer that sent heat crawling up my neck.
Which, in itself, was a miracle, considering we never just “went to dinner.” Sure, we went out with friends.
Whole groups of us packed into booths, passing drinks across the table.
We hung out at my house, playing video games in the basement with my little brother.
I went to his games. He came to my plays. Bonfires. Study sessions that turned into arguments about movies and space and music theory. Hell, we even shared birthday parties after that one year our friends were forced to choose between us.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. Then I locked my phone and set it face down on my desk. He was such an ass.
I didn’t respond.
Gabe arrived with a corsage in shades of blue and silver—one he’d had a florist design to match my dress perfectly.
He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek, and heat flooded me as my parents flitted around us, taking photos on the porch and making us repeat the same four tired prom poses that seemed to be some sort of right of passage.
He was all easy charm as he ushered me into his sleek sports car.
The one I’d watched him drive to and from school every day.
It wasn’t until I was safely buckled inside that my stomach began rioting.
I’d never been on a date before. I’d never been to a dance before.
I should’ve eaten something before dinner so I didn’t appear to be starving.
My ankles already ached in these death-trap heels.
“You look fucking insane,” Gabe said, all teeth and mischief as he slid into the driver’s seat. “I don’t know how I’m going to wait.”
I laughed, thin and nervous. “For what?”
“The party tonight. After prom, we’re going back to Joni’s.” He shot me a sideways grin. “You packed an overnight bag, right?”
My gut curdled.“No, I—I have to get home. I have lessons in the morning.”
“It’ll be fine.” He waved a hand, already pulling out. “I’ll drop you off early enough. Nobody will even know.”
It’s fine, I told myself. Mom can pick me up from Joni’s when nobody is looking. It’s fine. Then he merged onto the freeway. Not toward the restaurant we were supposedly going to. My heart started racing. “Wait—aren’t we—”
“Oh, I just told your parents that.” He huffed out a laugh. “We’re going downtown. Joni, Alex, and Teo are meeting us with some pre-game stuff. Then we’ll head into the dance.”
My stomach twisted harder. I hadn’t eaten since lunch. The smell of his cologne mixed with the leather seats and the faint sourness of old fast food made me lightheaded. He rested his hand on my thigh, thumb brushing slow circles through the fabric of my dress.
I laughed—because that’s what girls do when they don’t want to make things weird, right? With a playful nudge, I pushed his hand away like it was a joke. He smirked.
The parking lot he pulled into wasn’t for the venue.
It was darker and off to the side. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as I squinted out the window, where a truck sat, tailgate down, with a cooler open in the bed.
Joni and the others leaned against it, red cups in hand, laughter carrying in an unsettling echo across the gray lot.
Gabe pulled in beside them and practically flew out of the car, tackling Alex.
Liquid spilled over their arms, staining their suit jackets as they laughed about something.
I waited a moment, unsure if I should get out or wait until he was done, but thought better of it the second I saw Joni crack open a beer and pour it into a cup, handing it off to Gabe.
I wasn’t getting back in the car with him drunk. Climbing out into the night, goosebumps rose instantly along my bare arms.
“Heyyy, prom queen,” Joni sang, already tipsy. She offered me a beer and I shook my head. Apparently they were all too drunk to notice my stilted smile, or the way I squeezed my arms around myself. That, or they just didn’t care. Let’s be honest—they didn’t care. Suddenly I wondered why I did.
Music from the venue thumped faintly across the lot. “I’m going to go inside.” I tipped my chin toward the building.
Gabe nodded, already reaching for something Joni was handing him. “Okay babe. I’ll be there in a minute.”
A chill feathered across my skin, raising the hairs along my arms despite the warm night air. Which made no sense. I’d been counting down to prom for months. I was supposed to be excited. So why did it suddenly feel like something was wrong?
Even after tripping on my sparkling hem, I didn’t look back.
Inside, everything was dark and loud and warm and somehow itchy.
I checked in, without Gabe, which only worked because our band director had been manning the desk and waved me through.
Prom was being held inside an art museum, where they’d cleared out anything too priceless and staged gaudy floral arrangements in the corner and considered it done.
The theme was starry night, and the ceiling had been transformed with a few projectors. Stars danced along the gilded dome, and planets spun corner to corner. I couldn’t help thinking of Jude.
I walked the edge of the dance floor, watching couples move on and off between songs.
Some balanced punch while they fist pumped to the DJ’s new set, while others clung to the walls observing—proper wallflowers.
It wasn’t lost on me that I’d wanted to go to prom so badly, only to realize within seconds that it was entirely overrated.
Couples gyrated against one another (badly) and some made out even after being pulled apart by teachers circling like hawks.
The air felt sticky and sweet, which only made my headache worse.
After circling the floor a few times, I found a standing table by the door so that I’d be able to find Gabe when he walked in. A few seniors from our band class came over and said hello, complimented my hair or my dress only to disappear into the crowd again.
“You’re here with Gabe, right?” A girl set her clutch down on the table, pulling out a tube of lipstick. I’d seen her at the football games a few times, and at a pep assembly once because I’d been instructed to begin the fight song after she was done giving a speech. Clara, I think her name was.
“Uh yeah, he’s just outside.”
She was watching the dance floor, nodding her head. “With Joni and Alex?”
“Yeah.”
Clara turned to me then, dropping her lipstick back into her bag. “Are you guys, like, a thing?”
I frowned. “Uh, no?”
“Uh no, or no?”
My cheeks flamed. Did it matter? Was she trying to intimidate me? I wasn’t exactly looking to date the guy, but for some reason her words bothered me. “No, we’re in band together.”
She snapped her fingers together. Her nails were long and sparkly red, matching her dress and bright lipstick, which reminded me of a video game character Milo was obsessed with. She was really pretty.
“Ahhh, that’s right. I was wondering where I’d seen you before.” Leaning forward, she put her hand to her mouth. “Between you and me, you should really stay away from him. He’s kind of a prick.”