Free Prom Queen of Disaster by Joseph James Hunt Page A

ill?”
    Voices in agreement chimed up. “Not to name anyone specifically.” Ava stood beside Char. “But if the film HEATHERS taught is anything, it’s not to trust a Heather.”
    Heather Meakin wasn’t the only Heather in school, of course, she was the only one on the student body.
    The principal took the microphone. “Enough, Charlotte,” Principal Sanders said, straightening out his tie. “We won’t be accusing anyone; this will be dealt with by the school and the local authorities.”
    It was soon over, and I found myself waiting to bump into Kaleb. He had serious issues going on, and things he didn’t want anyone to know, but I couldn’t help it, I wanted to know what happened.
    “What do you want?” He stopped in front of me on his way into the locker room. “C’mon.”
    “What’s up with you?” I asked. “As someone concerned about the next school dance, y’know, in case you decide to throw something worse in the punch.”
    “Why would you think that’s something I would do?” he asked. “Because I’m damaged? Because my parents are dead? Am I vulnerable? Is that what this is, do I look like a project to you?”
    I took a couple deep breathes. “No, no, not at all.”
    “Good,” he said. “Now please move.”
    And yet it was clear as day; there was something painful to him. I was intrigued. He was what I needed for my art project; raw and emotional. I was an observer.
    “Get your butt out here, Zo. Practice is about to start,” Libby shouted down the hall. “If you see Han, tell her too.”
    I found Hannah lip-locked with a sophomore from the basketball team. She noticed me and pushed him away, straightening herself out. “C’mon Hannah,” I said. The guy blushed, rushing off before waving goodbye. “We’ve got practice.”
    We made our way out onto the field.
    Hannah pulled me aside. “Don’t tell anyone.”
    “Cute,” I said. “Max, right?”
    “You know him?”
    I laughed. “Dylan is their captain, of course.”
    “Really think it’s cute?”
    “And cradle robbing.”
    She smacked my arm with a pom-pom. “Don’t say that. Not funny.”
     
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Cheer season was in full swing, and I couldn’t quite get used to the idea of being in my final year. I was a senior now, and I had to decide what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. Almost like I was supposed to know. People paid attention to what I said, interested to ask questions about my future, questions I hadn’t even discussed with my family or Dylan.
    Saturday the 31 st of October, marked the first holiday, and as such, we needed to prepare and celebrate in style. We owed Instagram at least that much.
    Last year, Char had cemented herself with the Halloween Spooktacular party she threw. This year, we’d planned on doing it bigger and better, and her mom would help, even if she insisted on going out of town for it.
    “Half the senior class has been invited,” Char said. She held up a dress against herself, wrapping it to judge the type of fit. “Let them see their future prom queen.”
    “A shoe-in,” I said, glancing at my phone, it was mid-afternoon, and we still had lots to do. “So, where we going first?”
    “Target?” Ava suggested. “Can’t use last year’s decorations, find something cheap.”
    “Cutting it so late,” Char said. “We should’ve done this yesterday.”
    “I need some Spanx,” Libby said. “I’m feeling fat.”
    “Is it that time of the month?” I asked, dreading the PMS monster.
    “I’m supposed to start tomorrow, but I’m bloated,” she said.
    “My mom has some,” Char said. “Let’s not get caught buying Spanx, Lib. Not something we need to be seen with.” She threw the dress on her bed and spritzed herself with perfume.
    “Mm.” We sniffed at the air.
    “What’s that?” Hannah asked. “I need.”
    “Kings & Queens,” she said. “It’s gold dust, so use sparingly.” We all wanted some. Char splashed us twice, once on the