Free Prom and Prejudice by Stephanie Wardrop

have ever seen.
    The pool’s been transformed into an enchanted oasis. Lily pads float on its surface, some with white flowers on them and some with little candles that send paths of rippling light across the water as the sun begins to set behind me. There are potted ferns around the terrace surrounding the pool; they might always be there, or may be out now that it’s spring, but they make the whole thing look both magical and natural. Everything seems to twinkle and glow and I put my hand over my mouth because I have the humiliating feeling that I might burst into tears at that moment.
    “Do you like it?”
    I turn to find Michael behind me, and he is looking at me with the hopeful expression of a child who believes that since he has cleaned up the grape juice himself, it won’t matter that he spilled it.
    “It’s...really beautiful,” I say, and he smiles and steps down to the edge of the pool with me.
    “I don’t know...you and I are not the prom types, but I had the idea to do something special.”
    “So obviously you are not going with Darien,” I say with a shaky laugh. I feel a little like my legs aren’t going to hold me up much longer.
    “Of course not,” he says, and then he sits down at the edge of the pool and sticks his bare feet in. I roll up the edges of my jeans, kick off my sandals, and join him. The water is surprisingly warm after you get used to it.
    “I am really sorry, Michael, about all the stuff I got wrong about you. About leaving Pemberley, about hating my family, about...everything.”
    “ I should apologize to you . I was a jerk when I said that stuff about your sister, and I should have just told people about Jeremy instead of letting everyone take it out on Cassie. That’s why I wrote the letter.”
    “What letter?”
    He reaches out one foot and pushes a water lily gently to set it gliding across the pool. His legs are already tan—it must be from running.
    “The letter to The Alt .”
    I practically fall into the pool as I shoot up to my feet again. “You wrote that letter?”
    He shrugs and holds out a hand for me to take and when I do and sit down again, he says, “Yeah. That was me. Things had gone on long enough. And when I saw what you attempted to do to fix the situation—well, someone had to take matters into their own hands.”
    He’s grinning but there’s no malice in it, even as he teases.
    “That letter was brilliant. And beautiful.” I splash the water a little with one foot. “It was exactly the right thing. Unlike my plan, which was exactly the wrong thing. It was, like, the most wrong thing in the history of wrong things.”
    “You meant well. That’s what matters.”
    I nod sadly and decide to change the subject. “Still, you can see why I was wrong about you and Darien. I mean, there’s what your dad said, and you went to the school show with her.”
    Michael laughs now, and it’s a good laugh, deep and happy from low in his throat.
    “I didn’t go with Darien to the school show, Georgia. She was just there—I don’t know why. I went because I knew you would be there.”
    “Aha!” I cry and grab his hands. “Because despite making fun of me you were dying for a vegan cupcake, filled with pure unadulterated tofu.”
    He shakes his head, releases his hands from my grip and puts one palm on the side of my face; all breath escapes from my body at his touch.
    “You are impossible, Georgianna Barrett,” he says, and then he kisses me, and I kiss him back, and suddenly nothing else, nothing that has ever happened or will ever happen in the history of the world, matters at all. After a couple of blissful minutes, he pulls back a second and gives me that crooked smile that used to worry me so much. “You’re not going to run away again, are you?”
    “No. I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Good.”
    I lean my head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around me, and we just sit like that for a long time. It feels really good. It feels right. I