The Prom Kiss

by Maggie Dallen

  My gaze met Tina’s. Her blue eyes flashed with panic and horror before she disguised it with her signature look of bored disdain.

  My stomach twisted but I stood still. I hadn’t exactly expected her to welcome me to her table with open arms—one weird closet interaction did not a friendship make—but her horror still seemed a bit over the top.

  But whether we were friends or not, I couldn’t let her do this. I’d seen the look in her eyes, I’d caught glimpses of the emotions beneath the surface when she’d talked about this toxic pattern with Alex.

  She might hate me for it, but I had to try. There was nothing I could do for my own broken heart but there was a girl sitting right here who was…well, she wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. And she didn’t deserve to be hurt again.

  So before I could doubt myself any more, I cleared my throat and met her glare head on. “Tina, could I speak to you for a second?”

  Shock flickered across her face but she recovered quickly. “Uh…yeah? I guess.” Her tone was grudging at best. She shrugged off Alex’s arm and got up to join me, tossing a quick, irritated, “I’ll be back in a minute,” over her shoulder to her friends and Alex.

  When she snagged my arm, I had to marvel. “Holy crap, you have a strong grip.”

  “I’m a cheerleader,” she said as she led me into the hallway.

  I stood in front of her, the sudden silence of the hallway jarring. “What does that mean?”

  She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “It means cheerleaders are always stronger than people imagine. We don’t just clap our hands and wave our arms, you know.” She let out a huff of annoyance. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  She arched her brows expectantly and her eyes were guarded. Unreadable. If I hadn’t been in that storage closet myself, I wouldn’t have believed that this was the same girl. There was absolutely nothing weak or vulnerable about her. She was like a small, blonde general of some pixie army.

  She was also beautiful.

  It was a stupid realization to have at a ridiculously inopportune moment. But it was true. She was beautiful in a sort of movie star way—the way that seemed a little too perfect to be real.

  “Well?” she snapped.

  I cleared my throat again, suddenly doubting this plan. I mean, this little commander hardly needed my help, let alone my interference. But she was waiting and I was already in it to win it.

  “You can’t get back together with Alex again.”

  She stared at me for so long I thought perhaps she hadn’t heard me, even though I’d blurted it out right in her face.

  “Excuse me?” She drew out the words in a sort of Valley Girl accent that had no place in a Pennsylvania high school.

  “You heard me.” Oh hell, now I sounded like a bratty cheerleader too. But honestly, her irritation was irritating me. No, it wasn’t just that. It was the fact that she was trying to act like I didn’t know her that was pissing me off.

  She was acting like I hadn’t seen her cry, like I hadn’t seen her have an anxiety attack as she wept in a closet. She was giving me the same act that had fooled this whole school into thinking she was untouchable. A drama queen maybe, but one so far out of everyone else’s realm that she was Briarwood’s version of a celebrity. A star who people could gossip about and even ridicule, but always with a hint of awe.

  She gave her head a little shake, the only sign that I’d gotten through to her. “What makes you think you have any say over what I do or who I date?”

  Her words were harsh but her tone lacked the right amount of venom. She might’ve been trying for self-righteous anger, but I heard her genuine confusion…her honest curiosity.

  I crossed my arms. “Consider this an intervention.”

  She arched her brows again as if shocked—and not in a good way—but I could have sworn I saw a flicker of a smile on her lips. “An intervention.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “Something like that. You said yourself you’re not sure why you keep getting back together with that guy.” I jerked my head toward the cafeteria where slimy Alex waited for her. “My theory here is that you can’t stop yourself. So someone else needs to stop you.”

  She blinked a few times as she took a few steps back. That celebrity routine was slipping fast as she grappled with my words. Finally, she said, “And you think you’re the one to stop me?”

  When she said it like that, it did sound ridiculous. Honestly, I was wondering how on earth none of her friends or family had stepped in before now. I mean, I couldn’t be the only one who’d seen how much he hurt her. But if her friends had stepped in, they’d failed. “Yeah,” I said. “Why not me?”

  Her lips were definitely trying to form a smile but she seemed hell-bent on stopping it. She pursed her lips instead, but the smile was still there beneath that prissy look. “How exactly do you intend to stop me?”

  I sighed. Good question. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe just remind you regularly that he’s going to hurt you again? That it’s just a matter of time before he reverts back to his cheating ways?”

  She stopped pursing her lips and the almost-smile faded fast. For a second there she looked so sad I just wanted to give her a hug. She recovered quickly though, her expression turning haughty with disbelief. “So what, you’re going to shadow me and jump in between us every time Alex gets close?”

  I let out a short laugh at the mental image and then she did too. The absurdity of this conversation was starting to get to both of us.

  “That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking.”

  “So what exactly were you thinking?”

  I narrowed my eyes as if giving it some deep thought. Really I was just making this stuff up as I went. “Maybe we could treat it more like AA.”

  She blinked up at me. “Alcoholics Anonymous?” she clarified.

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “But this would be Alex Anonymous.”

  Her mouth fell open and I thought she was going to berate me, but instead she laughed. An honest-to-God laugh that made her seem like a normal teenage girl, not a celebrity or an A-lister or a bratty cheerleader. Just a girl.

  She crossed her arms so she was mirroring me, though I towered over her by a solid foot. “What about you?”

  “What about me?” My tone was too defensive by far.

  “I take it you haven’t heard from your ex yet?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  She smirked. “You haven’t.”

  “No, I haven’t,” I said. “And I don’t expect to.”

  She shook her head with an expression that said ‘oh you magnificent moron’ more eloquently than any words. “When you do, let me know.” With that she turned around. Apparently our conversation was done.

  “She’s not going to reach out,” I said to her retreating back. “We’re through. She ended it.”

  Tina stopped and turned. “She will. And when she does, tell me.”

  “Why?” I was honestly confused. Or maybe just surprised by her interest in me and my ex. For a girl who I’d thought was so one-dimensional, she was full of surprises.

  Her look said ‘duh’ but she spelled it out. “If you insist on helping me, then I’ll help you too. Consider me your breakup coach.” She flashed me a sugary sweet smile that reeked of mischief. “You can thank me later.”

  “I don’t need help,” I said.

  Her laugh would have been cruel if she didn’t look so genuinely amused. “You will.”

  “I won’t.”

  She gave me a knowing look before turning toward the cafeteria. “Just tell me when she reaches out.”

  “She won’t,” I called to her retreating back.

  This time she didn’t turn around. “She will.”

  She did.

  Several days later I watched in horror as my phone lit up with Leila’s name, and my ex’s pretty heart-shaped face smiled up at me. I almost didn’t answer it. I mean, what could she have to say?

 
It was over. She’d cheated on me, I’d found out thanks to an accidental, ill-fated glance at her phone when a text came in while she was in the bathroom, and then when I called her out on it, she’d ended it. Brutally.

  She’d broken my heart, end of story. What could she have to say? There was nothing to discuss.

  The phone rang again.

  But on the other hand—what could she have to say? Yes, it was the same question, but this time I couldn’t help but think of what Tina had suggested—what she’d seemed so sure of. That Leila wanted me back.

  Something surged up inside me. It wasn’t so much hope as it was…oh hell, I didn’t know. It was a need to be vindicated. Maybe it was just my pride talking—okay, yeah, it was definitely pride talking—but I was desperate to know if she wanted me back.

  She didn’t.

  At least, she didn’t say so during the excruciatingly awkward one-minute conversation. The silences were tense but even worse was her voice, so soft and gentle. So innocent. Like she was the victim here and not me.

  But worst of all was the way my chest ached when I hung up the phone. She wasn’t trying to get me back and now I was having a hard time holding onto my anger.

  And anger was the only thing keeping me from missing her. Were we perfect together? No. But she was my first serious girlfriend and I guess I’d been naïve enough to think that it meant something.

  I didn’t tell Alice about the call. Not because I didn’t trust her but because Brian was sitting at our lunch table that next day and the two of them were so nauseatingly happy together I just couldn’t bring myself to bring up the latest episode in the misery that was my life.

  But I did tell Tina. Not just because she’d told me to, but because I was a little awed by the fact that she’d called it. She’d known Leila would reach out. Did I still think she was a demon from hell? No, not so much. But I was starting to wonder if she might seriously be a witch with some sort of psychic sorcery.

  “How did you know?” I asked when she reached her locker. I’d been stationed beside it waiting for her since the last bell rang. She barely gave me a glance before unlocking her combo.

  “She texted?” Tina guessed.

  “She called.”

  That had her looking over. “She has more nerve than I would have thought.”

  I had no idea what that meant. Was I being offended here? I shook my head. It didn’t matter. “How did you know?”

  She gave me a little smile and the look in her eyes made her seem so much older than eighteen. It was jaded and cynical…and maybe just a little bit wise.

  “And?” she said. “Did she try to win you back?”

  I gave a short laugh at that. “No. Not even a little. She just called to make sure I knew that she was cool with me playing open mic night at her coffee shop.”

  Tina gave me an unreadable look as she stacked her books in the locker so I explained. “That’s how we met. I was trying out my new songs at Java Hut, the coffee shop where she was working as a barista—”

  “She still works there?” Tina interrupted.

  “Yeah. I skipped open mic night these last couple weeks, for obvious reasons.”

  She turned to me with one arched brow. “Because you were a wuss and didn’t want to face her?”

  I kept my expression blank. “Because I was heartbroken and needed some space.”

  “Same difference.” She slammed her locker shut and turned to face me, leaning against it and ignoring the looks we were getting from just about everyone who passed us on their way out the door to the parking lot.

  I wondered if she didn’t care that she was being watched or if she was just used to it. Did people always gape at her like this or was it because she was talking to me? A guy so outside her popularity stratosphere, I was basically from a different planet.

  “So?” she asked, impatience in her tone. “Are you going to do it or are you going to continue being a wuss?”

  I stiffened, even though I knew she was teasing. Or at least, I assumed she was. At least partially.

  I peered at her. She was teasing, wasn’t she?

  But, oddly enough, her harsh words helped me make the decision that I’d been debating ever since I hung up the phone. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

  Tina arched her brows, like she was waiting for more.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets, confidence growing as I thought it through. “No, I mean yeah. Why not? I was performing at open mics there long before she and I got together.”

  A smile was forming on those pretty lips of hers—lips which were currently a dramatic shade of red.

  “It’s not like she owns the place,” I continued. “I don’t need her permission.”

  “Even though she gave it,” Tina pointed out.

  I frowned down at her. “Are you helping or being a brat?”

  She grinned. “I’m helping, I promise.”

  I grunted something indecipherable. Honestly I was having a hard time coming up with a response because my brain was too focused on that smile. It lit up her features and made her too pretty. Seriously, she was way too pretty when she smiled like that. It was distracting.

  I was brought back to the present though when Alex came sauntering down the hallway in our direction, his normally easy grin replaced by a glower that was firmly directed at me.

  I leaned in toward Tina and lowered my voice. “Um, don’t look now but I think your ex might be planning to murder me.”

  Tina’s grin didn’t falter. “Oh, that’s because I told him you were into me.”

  My eyes widened and my voice leapt up an unmanly octave. “You…what? Why—why would you do that?”

  She laughed silently at my outrage. “He wanted to know why you needed to talk to me alone.” She shrugged as if the rest was a given.

  And maybe it was.

  The pieces fell into a place so quickly I forgot for a second that a Neanderthal was coming for me and focused on the sudden anger. “You were using me to make Alex jealous?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I had to tell him something.”

  Alex stopped at his locker which was mere feet away but still out of hearing distance. It was not out of glaring distance, however, not even a little bit. I could feel his eyes on me like a laser, but they were less irritating than this little blonde who’d gone and done what everyone expected of her.

  “You’re playing games,” I said.

  She blinked up at me. “Of course.”

  I shook my head. “Aren’t you even a little embarrassed to admit that?”

  She frowned. “Why would I be? It’s the way of the world.”

  I returned her frown. “It’s the way of your world.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “That’s not how I operate,” I said. “I don’t want any part of your weird games.”

  She crossed her arms, apparently not noticing or not caring that her ex was watching us with a ferocious glare. “So it’s like that, huh?”

  “Yeah, it’s like that.” I leaned forward so only she could hear. “I want to help you with Alex and I appreciate your insights on Leila, but I don’t want to get mixed up in your toxic weirdness with Alex.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Okay, fine.”

  I thought she was done so I started to pull away but she reached out and grabbed my shirt in a fist, holding me close. “But here’s the thing. Everyone plays games.” Her gaze met mine. “Everyone. You’re naïve if you think otherwise.”

  I stared down at her. She was serious. “That’s a really crappy way of viewing the world. You know that, right?”

  She looked nonplussed. “I told you, I’m a realist. I get that you’re all good and kind, but good and kind won’t make you a winner.”

  I shook my head. “That’s the thing, Tina. There’s nothing to win. Not everything in life is a competition.”

  She let out a short laugh as she shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Morris.
It’s always a competition. And if you’re not playing to win, you’re bound to lose.” She arched her brows meaningfully. “Just look at you and Leila.”

  Ouch. I opened my mouth to protest but closed it again quickly.

  She let go of my shirt and gave my arm a condescending pat. “Don’t worry. You might be too good to get your hands dirty, but that’s why I’ve got your back.”

  I stared at her in bemusement. I honestly didn’t even know what she meant by that. “You are kind of terrifying, Withers.” I used her last name like she’d used mine.

  She grinned like that was the best compliment she’d ever heard and I found myself returning the smile without even meaning to.

  She seriously had a great smile, especially when it was genuine.

  “Come on,” she said, taking me by the arm and pushing me toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here before Alex totally loses it.”

  That got my mind back on the matter at hand. “He doesn’t honestly think I’m into you, does he?”

  She glanced up at me with a rueful smile. “You don’t have to make it sound quite so ludicrous, you know.”

  I shoved my hands into my pocket and kept silent, because it was ludicrous. Me into her? Never. We came from two different worlds. This new pseudo-friendship was more of an alliance forged out of mutual understanding.

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Alex’s gaze following us down the hall.

  Now, I was a tall guy. Tall but lanky. Also, I had zero athletic prowess and had never once been to a gym, unlike Alex the Brawny Hulk walking.

  I’d never even been in a fight and I had no plans to start now. Especially not over this girl who was clearly using me to play games with her ex. I wasn’t afraid, per se, but I was very definitely put off by this whole conversation.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you,” she said, tugging me again so I was once more facing forward and keeping pace beside her.

  I slapped a hand over my heart. “Okay, now my male ego is bruised.”

  She laughed loudly at that. “Good. I love taking guys down a peg.”

  I fell into step beside her as we walked toward the exit, Alex’s glare following me. “See now, I am all for bringing guys down to size…in theory. But I promise you, I didn’t have an overly developed ego to begin with.”