Free Sing Me to Sleep by Angela Morrison

“It wasn’t them. My mom kind of insisted on it. Remember grade school?”
    Scott’s empathetic, “Yeah,” floats into my ear.
    Squirrel Face . Viper . Boys stealing my glasses every recess. Four pairs got broken. The lenses were so heavy—always popping out. Scott rescued one pair from the boys’ bathroom and got beat up for his trouble. “It still haunts my mom.”
    “Not you?” His hand moves to my elbow, and he steadies me into my chair.
    “It is me.”
    “Not anymore, Beth.” He sits beside me.
    “It’s not so easy to not be that girl anymore. You know what I mean?”
    He nods. He’s been there, too. And, snot that I am, I assumed he could shrug it off and go act like Mr. Charming to snag a girlfriend. He’s a guy. No feelings allowed. He’s supposed to just want action.
    “Let’s turn over a new leaf together.” His hand returns to my back, moves up and down, gently soothing. “What do you say?”
    “Remember when we were going to run away? In fifth grade? I’ll make the sandwiches again, and we can take my car. How much cash do you have?”
    “I was thinking we should face it this time.” His hand stops moving. “Let’s go to prom.”
    I laugh at that. “Like I could ever get a date.”
    He leans in closer. “I just asked you, stupid.”
    I stare at him. “You want to go with me?” My head shakes back and forth at how impossible that is. “I’m too tall.”
    “And I’m too short.” He grins.
    Crap, this is for real. “Will you make me dance?”
    “Can you?” His hand, with arm attached, moves to my far shoulder.
    “I doubt it.”
    He squeezes a hug into a split second. “I can teach you if you want.” Scott dances? “I’ve been to loads of family weddings.”
    “Isn’t there someone else you’d like to take?”
    “You’re kidding, right?”
    “You’re sweet, Scott, but maybe this isn’t a good idea.” My head won’t stop slowly shaking no way . “I don’t want to muck up our friendship.”
    His arm drops, hangs casually between us. He frowns. “Why can’t friends go to prom together?”
    “It won’t creep you out?” I can’t look at his face. “Going with me?”
    “Hardly.”
    “Guess I need a dress.” I stick my tongue out at him. “Meadow will be thrilled.”
    Scott sits up as tall as he can. “This I gotta see.”

chapter 8
     
    PROM
     
     
     
     
    Prom ends up being the same night as our concert. Such a pain. Scott comes to the concert in his black tux, looking way too good to be my old grade school bud. We’re leaving right after. Port High has a tradition of having its proms at a country club. We’re going to be way late, but that’s good. The party will be hopping, and we can lurk quietly in the back for a few songs and then leave.
    Meadow peeks through the side door of the sanctuary before the concert starts and spots Scott in the audience. She takes him for an Amabile spy, searches the crowd wildly for Derek.
    “No, that’s my friend, Scott.”
    “Your prom date?”
    “Yeah. We’ve been friends forever.”
    “He’s way hot,” Sarah chimes in. “Introduce me after.”
    Not on your life. I’d never sic Sarah on my poor, defenseless Scott.
    Terri walks in from the side and takes a bow. She’s in a gorgeous black outfit. Guess Meadow’s mom got to her, too. She welcomes the crowd, says a spiel about golden Olympic dreams in Lausanne, and then we’re singing. The numbers whirl by. Each one gets a lot of applause. The audience is our family and friends. They’ll applaud anything.
    Our finale is “Take Me Home.” I nail my solo. The hall goes nuts when it’s over. They are on their feet, pounding their hands together while we take a bow. Terri bows. The pianist bows. I have to step forward and bow by myself. Then we all bow together. The audience still claps. They won’t shut up until we sing it again.
    I’m surrounded when it’s all over. Mom pushes her way through and gives me a big hug. “You’re beautiful. And not