The Best Laid Plans(89)

“It’s not about Chase,” Ava says. “It’s about you taking something you knew I wanted because you knew you could. And you’re doing it all over again with Andrew! You’re only here with him because of Keely.” I flinch at her words.

Ava pulls out the final bobby pin and her hair tumbles over her shoulders in purple waves. She throws the pin at Danielle. “I’m surprised you never fucked Charlie. Hannah would have flipped and you would have loved it.”

Danielle lunges at her, grabbing hold of the necklace around Ava’s neck, and as she pulls away, beads fly everywhere— scattering and rolling across the dock in all directions. Ava grabs a strap of Danielle’s gown, pulling and ripping so that it tears, and Danielle shrieks.

“Stop!” I say, and Hannah and I rush toward them. We grab on to their arms, trying to pull them off each other. Ava turns to me and her eyes are wild, like she’s gone mad. Her blue, glittery makeup has smeared down the side of her temples, and there are mascara tracks down her cheeks.

“I don’t need your help!” she wails. She shrugs my hands off, and I grab her again, trying to keep her steady, keep her calm, but she’s howling and flailing like a woman possessed. I try to grab for her but she’s tottering on her heels, and then suddenly she’s falling backward, tipping slowly away from me. Her arm shoots forward, reaching for something to hold, finding only air. And then she’s gone, over the side of the dock and into the water.

There’s a loud splash.

Danielle stops grappling with Hannah and turns. “Oh, come on,” she says. “I’ll get her.” And then she jumps in after Ava.

“I’ll go get a teacher,” I say, turning away from the lake and back toward the Walcott. I begin moving toward the other end of the dock, but I hear a gasp from behind me and turn back to the lake. Danielle and Ava have just burst through the surface, and Hannah is on her knees, pulling them up. The water is deep enough that only their heads are exposed, but it looks like they can stand. Hannah grabs Ava by the shoulders and Danielle hoists her from below up and onto the dock, where she sputters and coughs. Then Hannah grabs Danielle.

“Hannah!” A voice shouts from the top of the steps, and the figure of a girl appears, her silhouette dark against the bright windows. “Hannah!” she calls again, running down the steps toward us. As she gets closer I see that it’s Susie Palmer, her pale skin luminescent in the moonlight. She freezes when she sees the group of us, Danielle and Ava lying on the wet dock, their dresses like a puddle of melted ice cream. “Um, Hannah?” she says when she gets to us. “They’re looking for you inside. They called your name and no one could find you. You’re supposed to go dance with Chase.”

“What?” Hannah asks, confused. The front of her gown is wet where she pulled Ava from the water. Her braid is falling out, her bangs flattened to her forehead. I can tell she’s still buzzing from what’s happened and doesn’t understand what’s going on. But I know. It’s obvious, should have been obvious all along.

“You’re Prom Queen.”





THIRTY-ONE





SOMEHOW EVERYTHING has gone to shit.

After Chase and Hannah’s dance as King and Queen, after Danielle and Ava finally come back inside, leaving the floor so wet that Edwin Chang slips and falls, I find myself tired out, sitting back at the table and not really in the mood to dance. It’s getting late. Some of the cardboard waves have fallen off the walls, and one of the bubble machines has malfunctioned.

Dean is with Ryder somewhere, probably outside smoking, and I can’t be bothered to look for him. I sigh and stand up, heading over to get more punch. At this point, who cares if it’s spiked?

“Shitty prom, huh?” Chase says, coming up behind me.

“Yeah.” I scoop myself a cup of punch and then scoop one for him. “How’s Cecilia?”

He takes a sip of punch, leaving a thin red stain on his upper lip. “She’s nice,” he says, his voice flat.

“And that’s the problem?”

“I’m not really into nice.”

We both turn and look over to where Danielle and Ava are still being cleaned up and dried off by the chaperones.

“Where’s your date?” Chase asks.

“Who knows,” I say, taking another sip of punch. For some reason, I feel like being honest.

“You don’t like him that much,” Chase says, not a question.

“It’s nice to have someone to come with.”

“What do you mean?” Chase takes another sip. “You could have come with any of us.”

“As a friend,” I say. “I mean, it’s not like any of you guys ever . . . hit on me. I’m not a real girl. I don’t count.”

“Come on, Collins, you’re hot.” He says it so casually, catching me off guard.

“What?”

“That’s really why you think no guys ever hit on you?”

“Well, yeah,” I say. “I mean, you guys talk about all your weird bodily functions in front of me, so clearly you’re not—”

“No guys ever hit on you because you were with Reed.” I stiffen at his words. If only Chase knew how much I wish what he was saying were true.