The Gay Girl's Guide to Ruining Prom

by Siera Maley

  Dad talked about how he was upset that life was going to be harder for me now but that he loved me too much to want to see me sad anymore, and that led to a big blowup between my parents in the middle of therapy because Mom thought he couldn’t really love me if he was okay with me spending my entire afterlife burning in hellfire. Afterward, the counselor asked me if I wanted to come separately from my parents next time, and me and Dad both decided that was probably for the best, at least for a while.

  And on Saturday, Dad sent Mom away for the weekend to some kind of spa resort and then invited Chelsea over for dinner. And that was how, with one week left until Prom, I found myself right back where we’d all been a weekend ago, sitting at the dinner table and making awkward conversation.

  “I wanted to apologize for last weekend,” Dad said to Chelsea, who just gave him a thin smile and nodded shortly. “And to thank you for being willing to come here again. The whole situation was poorly handled. I know it’s a lot to ask the both of you to be patient with me, but I’m trying my best to understand. This past week hasn’t been easy.” He looked back and forth between us and took a deep breath. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’d like to how long has this been—How long you two have…?”

  “Almost a couple of months, Dad,” I clarified, giving him an encouraging smile. Questions were good. I was glad that he was trying.

  “Really?” he seemed surprised by the answer. “You seem very close already.”

  “Yeah, I really like her.” I exchanged a fond look with Chelsea, and she looked a little embarrassed as she went back to her meal. I was glad she was being so easygoing about this; I’d spent the past week trying to convince her that my dad was really trying to change, and I was happy she was at least giving him a chance.

  Dad looked back and forth between us thoughtfully, then nodded shortly and said, “Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone you like. I know it’s been a while.”

  I widened my eyes at him and shook my head just a little, willing him not to mention Alex by name. I’d already told him that Skylar was still off the table. He just pursed his lips and looked sheepish but didn’t say anything more to me. Instead, he turned to Chelsea. “So, you’ve dated girls in the past as well, Chelsea?”

  “Oh my god, Dad,” I groaned out, but Chelsea just dissolved into nervous giggles next to me, as though our situation had finally sunk in and she was struck by how absurd it was. My dad had no clue what he was supposed to say or do tonight and it was so obvious.

  “Yes, I’m gay,” she told him, and he nodded like she’d said something incredibly fascinating, then tilted his head to one side.

  “Has that…? Have you always…?” he tried, and she bit back another laugh and nodded shortly.

  “Yeah, since I was a kid.”

  “A kid?” Dad looked taken aback.

  “Well, like, middle school, with…” She suddenly seemed very interested in her food. “…puberty, and all that.”

  “Right. Huh. I expect that must be common.”

  I winced and shoved the biggest carrot on my plate into my mouth, hoping I’d look occupied enough to avoid this particular line of conversation. No such luck.

  “So, was that how it was for you, Zoey?”

  “Dad,” I said again through a mouthful of food, exasperated, and he just held a hand up helplessly.

  “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “Well, I made out with Chelsea in a closet at her thirteenth birthday party and I knew,” I told him shortly. Chelsea sat back in her chair, mortified, and my Dad stared back at me, his mouth half-open. “So, yeah, I guess it was the same for me. Only with about five extra years of denial because I didn’t want to disappoint you and Mom.”

  He pulled himself together when he heard that. “I’m sorry that we made you feel that way.” We all fell silent for a few seconds, and he poked at his food with his fork, shaking his head to himself and mumbling, “Parties nowadays sure are different than they were when I was in middle school.”

  Chelsea cracked up next to me again and I could see she’d turned red. Dad just gave her an amused look and went back to his food. “It wasn’t my idea,” she told him, and he laughed and said nothing more.

  “Well, I think that was a resounding success,” Chelsea told me after dinner as I walked her back to her car. “I mean, I don’t think he’ll be letting us hang out alone in your room anytime soon, but that’s what my house is for, anyway.”

  I laughed and tugged her around to face me in the driveway, then leaned in and kissed her quickly. She beamed at me and pulled me into her. “I actually think he might like you,” I admitted. “He looked like he was falling in love when you brought up going to Chiefs games every season with your dad. He hates that I’m not a sports person.”

  “Well, I did have a good teacher to get me prepped,” she pointed out, leaning in to kiss me briefly again.

  “But you were still yourself,” I reminded her when we parted. “You two just have a lot in common.”

  “We’re gonna be best friends,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at me, and I shook my head emphatically.

  “I’m just glad you get along. Plus, as soon as my mom gets home, we’ll be right back to acting like I’m not still seeing you and you won’t be able to visit anymore.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, unbothered. “I could always sneak into your room sometime, Romeo and Juliet style. I have a surprise I can bring you.”

  “Oh?” Now I was genuinely curious.

  “Yeah.” She looked proud of herself. “But it won’t be ready for a couple more days. You can come over Tuesday and I’ll show you.”

  “If it’s a hotel room for after Prom—” I joked, and she rolled her eyes at me.

  “I wanted to do something for you after everything that’s happened. That stupid comment I made and your parents. And I finally figured out what I can do to show you that I’m serious.” She leaned forward and pecked me on the lips. “And that I really like you.” Again, she kissed me. “And that I’m not the same person you met at that party all those weeks ago.”

  “You don’t have to prove anything,” I reassured her. “I know who you are.”

  “Well, I’m doing it anyway. If it isn’t for you then it can be for me,” she said shortly, and then she kissed me again, for much longer this time. I groaned when she pulled away. “Okay, I have to go, but if I don’t see you Monday then it’ll be Tuesday, for sure. But if it’s Tuesday then I might be busy Monday. You get it.” She waved her own words away and then stepped back from me, turning away to reach for her car door.

  “I’ll miss you,” I said, meaning it. We only had one more week to be together before Skylar would be pushing me to pull the trigger on our plan, and every hour I didn’t spend with her felt like a wasted one. “Text me?”

  She gave me a warm look and didn’t reply, and I rubbed my arms and shivered in the cold as I watched her drive away.

  When I went back inside, Dad was clearing the dishes from the table and rinsing them off in the sink. I watched him nervously for a moment, wondering what he’d think of me when he found out the truth about my relationship with Chelsea. He was trying so hard to understand and accept me, and soon I’d have to explain to him that everything had been a lie for Skylar’s benefit. Even if I explained everything—that I’d fallen for Chelsea along the way, that I regretted agreeing to the plan in the first place, and that I was willing to lose my friendship with Skylar if it meant keeping Chelsea—he’d probably wonder what else I was lying about. And what else I could lie about.

  “Dad?” I called out, moving to rest my hip against the dinner table. I watched him shut off the water and set down the dish in his hand. He turned to face me. “What’s up, Zo?”

  “You did really good tonight,” I told him. He smiled and I could tell he was pleased with himself.

  “Chelsea’s a nice girl.”

  “I really like her,” I said. I paused, nervous, and then pressed on. “Whatever happe
ns after this, I do really, really like her.”

  He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

  I shook my head and pushed off from the table. “Not yet,” I told him, and left, eager to get to my room before he could question me any further.

  15

  I cracked and texted Skylar Monday afternoon after another day of ignoring each other at school, but I didn’t get anything in response. On Tuesday, she was even colder to me, if that was possible, and I saw her at Alex’s locker after lunch, having what was clearly an intense conversation. Alex looked like she was going to burst into tears, and it took everything in me to not go over there and make sure that Skylar wasn’t doing what it looked like she might’ve been doing.

  When I went over to Chelsea’s house on Tuesday and saw what she’d done, Skylar’s behavior suddenly made sense.

  “Okay, I don’t know how you’ll feel about this, but I think it went alright. Well, as well as it could, anyway.” Chelsea had her laptop on her lap, and we were sitting on her bed together. She looked nervous to show me what was on her computer, but she was noticeably excited, too. “So, I got this idea from Gina last week. We were talking about exes and how I didn’t have any good relationships with any of mine because of how I’d treated them, and while I definitely don’t want us to be exes, like I said before: I know that I’d want us to be able to be friends if we ever broke up. And I thought the best way to get started was to at least try to make things up to the girls I upset. So I tried to get in touch with them to apologize.”

  I widened my eyes at her, feeling my heart sink as it dawned on me that she might have spoken with Skylar, and she misunderstood my surprise.

  “Not all of them,” she elaborated, “because that’d…well, there were some who weren’t serious about me either, and some I couldn’t find, and really, I just…well, I found all the ones who I’d wronged that I could. And I apologized.” She’d pulled up her Instagram and I could see her message history there now. “Most of them weren’t very nice to me, which I don’t blame them for. But I’d like to think that it helped.”

  I leaned in close to study the messages, catching a glimpse of a few choice phrases like “lying slut” and “don’t message me again,” and then I sat back, overwhelmed.

  “I know some of it’s bad,” she said, studying me nervously. “But I thought it was a good idea to try. I even met up with a couple of them in person, Sunday and yesterday.”

  “Oh?” was all I managed to get out. The knot in my stomach was growing larger and larger with every word she said.

  “The last one I talked to was the girl I told you about. The one who reminded me of myself. I don’t think I ever told you her name, but it was Skylar.”

  “Okay.” I stared at her, waiting for more, and hoped I didn’t look as panicked as I felt. “How did that go?”

  “Well, I said that I was sorry for everything, and she was nicer about it than I thought she’d be. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d been…” She trailed off, uncertain, and then shook her head. “I just deserved so much worse. But she was okay with talking. We talked a lot.”

  “How was she doing?” I asked. My heart was pounding frantically, and I tried to take deep breaths without Chelsea noticing that I was borderline hyperventilating. She seemed too distracted to pay close attention to me; she was thoughtful, now, no doubt trying to recall her conversation with Skylar.

  “Good, I think. I told her that I was doing well, too. She wanted to know if I was seeing someone; I think a part of her was maybe hoping we’d get back together or that I’d say no. I don’t know.” She shrugged, at a loss. “But I told her the truth. I said I was seeing you and that I was really trying to change.” She smiled at me. “And I told her you make me really happy.”

  “I bet she didn’t like that,” I guessed quietly.

  “Actually, she was okay. Or at least I think she was. She did want to know what was so different about you, and I tried to explain as best as I could about us knowing each other before and about you being willing to call me out on all my bull—”

  I didn’t hear the rest of what she said. I sat frozen next to her while she went on, my mind racing a million miles a second as I tried to process what she’d told Skylar.

  Finally, I interrupted, “She knows I was your first kiss?”

  Chelsea shot me a strange look. Clearly, I’d been out of it for longer than I thought. “Well, yeah. I mean, I didn’t go into any weird details, but I did mention it. I said I reconnected with my first kiss from middle school.”

  “Okay.” I sat still for a moment, feeling my brain officially short-circuit with panic. Then I blurted, “I have to get home.” I reached between us to grab for my purse and shifted to get off of her bed. “I just realized I have a ton of homework, and my History teacher loves to do pop quizzes on Wednesdays and I haven’t studied at all—”

  “Okay?” Chelsea watched me with bewilderment as I collected my things and made my way toward her bedroom door. “Can we talk more later?”

  “Of course. Yes,” I replied emphatically, pausing at the door. I realized how crazy I must’ve seemed and hastily moved back to her and kissed her, but she was still watching me strangely when I pulled away. “I think this was so brave of you, putting yourself out there,” I told her, gesturing toward her laptop, “and I really really want to know more about how it went. Tomorrow.”

  “Alright…” She watched me duck out of her bedroom, and as I rushed toward her front door, I heard her call after me, lamely, “Good luck on your pop quiz!”

  “Fuck,” I cursed quietly, fumbling for the doorknob and then scrambling to get outside. My phone buzzed and my heart stopped when I saw the text from Skylar.

  “I’m in your driveway with Alex. You should come home.”

  “Fuck!” I said again, and then I got into my car and threw the gear into reverse.

  True to her word, Skylar was waiting in my driveway next to Devon’s car when I pulled up. Alex was with her, and I could tell even from within my car that Alex’s eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying. I parked and sat in my car for a long moment, collecting myself, before I opened the door and faced them.

  “Your girlfriend told me everything,” Skylar greeted me haughtily. She was sneering and her arms were folded across her chest. Alex watched us from next to Devon’s car, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. “She came and talked to me yesterday. So that was great. Finding out my best friend’s a fucking liar was really the highlight of this whole train wreck of an experience.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” I started, and she laughed at me and cut me off.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure that was it. I’m sure you weren’t laughing at me behind my back the whole time I was seeing her. ‘Oh, what’s her name again, Sky? Cassie?’” She rolled her eyes. “You are exactly the person you let everyone think you are.”

  I opened and closed my mouth for a moment, struggling for words. “I just wanted you to have something that was yours,” I finally stuttered out.

  “Even if I believed that, I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” She scoffed. “God, I really trusted you, you know? I thought you were actually doing this for me. No wonder she fell for you so easily; she had some pathetic kiddie crush on you she never got over. You probably hardly had to try.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Skylar was a lost cause; I hadn’t even told her about my feelings for Chelsea yet and it was clear that she already loathed me.

  I looked at Alex. “That’s not true, Alex.”

  “I already told her everything,” Skylar cut in. “About our plan and about why you broke up with her. I told her about Wes, too: something you would’ve done months ago if you actually cared about her.”

  “I do care,” I said. Alex looked down at her feet and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “I just wanted to fix everything.”

  “Well, you lied to everyone and you lost all of us
,” Skylar told me. “And when Chelsea finds out you faked everything with her, you’re gonna lose her too.”

  “It’s not like that,” I insisted, trying not to cry. “I wasn’t trying to be this horrible person. I was just trying to do what everyone wanted.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” Skylar bit out. “Have those hickeys faded yet or are you still using concealer?”

  “Just stop.”

  Alex spoke up so quietly that at first I wasn’t sure she’d said anything at all, but then Skylar shot her a confused look and I knew she’d heard what I heard. “Me?” she asked Alex, and Alex let out a heavy sigh.

  “Yeah, you. She obviously feels bad.” She gestured to me with one hand, and I felt my tears slow just for a moment as I dared to hope that I might finally have someone on my side.

  Skylar turned to her, accusing. “You said you wanted to come confront her with me.”

  “I said I wanted answers about Wes,” she corrected. “You told me this whole thing with this other girl was your idea, which means that it wasn’t hers. I was never confused about what me and Zoey felt when we were together. I just wanted to know why she lied when it ended, and now I do: Wes.” Alex turned to me and I could see the exhaustion in her eyes, but she managed a small smile in my direction, nonetheless. I was too stunned to smile back. “I know better than anyone that you’re not heartless,” she said. My mouth felt dry. “Sometimes I think you might care a little too much for your own good, actually.”

  “Thanks, Alex,” I managed to reply, and Skylar rounded on her again, furious.

  “You’re seriously on her side? Alex. She pretended she didn’t know this girl. She made me think she was doing this on my behalf—”

  “I was,” I interjected sharply. I could feel my sadness subsiding and now I was getting angry. “I did everything you wanted, even when it was killing me to do it. You just expected me to get close to someone and then toss them aside! And you actually had me believing Alex was going to be impressed by it somehow and come running back wanting to be friends again. I trusted you just as much as you trusted me.”