A Prom to Remember(46)

“Um, yes,” Cameron said.

“Do you need a place to sit? Because Paisley and I are going, and we had to do some table rearranging and ended up with mostly empty seats.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“We definitely have room for you.” Henry grimaced. “Do you have a date? This feels like a really nosy question, seeing as how we’ve barely talked in the past year.”

“I have a date, but it’s a long story,” Cameron said.

“We might have time,” Henry said, trying to peek into the back of the store to see if there were any workers around.

Of course, at that moment, a guy came from the back room.

“Here you go!” he said cheerfully, handing a garment bag to Cam.

Cameron looked at it. “I didn’t order a red tuxedo.”

“No?”

“I would remember that,” Cam said. “I did order a lime-green shirt, though.”

“Ah yes, the chartreuse.”

“Is that another word for lime green?”

“Yes.” The guy disappeared behind the curtain.

Henry leaned on the counter, about to ask more about Cameron’s complicated prom story, but Cameron spoke up first.

“I thought you were going to the prom with Amelia Vaughn.”

“Uh, yeah,” Henry said. “That was a thing that was happening for like five minutes. Turns out my prom story is kind of complicated, too.”

“I think we have time,” Cameron said.

Paisley

It was so busy in the mall, Paisley hadn’t checked the clock in hours. Time had no meaning when the only reason you were put on this earth was to serve baked potatoes to the masses.

“Why are people even at the mall?” she muttered as she pulled another vat of sour cream from the refrigerator in the back. “Don’t people go to barbecues anymore? Or the beach? Isn’t this the unofficial beginning of summer?”

Her boss John poked his head into the back. “You ever coming out?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

It wasn’t until nearly three, long after traditional lunchtime had ended, that there was a lull in the lunch rush. John was leaving for the day, and Paisley was going to be alone at the counter until the dinner people came in to relieve her.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” John asked for the millionth time.

“Of course. Just get out of here before I change my mind.”

With that, he fled through the back door and Paisley was alone. There were still plenty of people in the food court and the mall in general, but no one else was looking for a baked potato. Thank god. She wasn’t sure if she could pour even one more ladle of melted cheese.

After organizing and wiping up behind the counter, she made herself a lovely cocktail of Hawaiian Punch and Coke. Paisley settled in to wait for her coworkers to come in and relieve her. Only an hour left, she noted, looking at the clock.

When she turned back around, there, standing in front of her, was Stewart Smith.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

“So, when should I pick you up on Friday? Also where should I pick you up? I don’t know where you live,” he said with an uncomfortable chuckle.

“What are you picking me up for?” she asked, trying to remember if Henry had mentioned they were going with other guys from the baseball team.

“The prom.”

“Um. I never said I’d go to the prom with you.”

“You never said no,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I never said anything,” Paisley replied, slurping the last of her drink through her straw.

“Come on, go to the prom with me, please?” he said. And then he leaned in, conspiratorially. “We could split the money from the bet.”

She angled toward him. “How much are we talking about?”

“Forty bucks,” he said.

She snorted as she stepped back. “Hell no.”

“Oh, come on, please? I assumed all this time we were going together. Now I won’t have a date.”

“What about Margie Showalter? She asked you and you said no.”

His jaw dropped.

“Oh yeah, I know about that. You can’t make me feel guilty for rejecting you. If you can reject people, then so can I.”

“I just assumed we’d go together. I thought…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“You never even talked to me! This is literally the first conversation we’ve ever had.”

“But you could totally go with me.”

She threw up her hands in frustration. “I’m going with Henry.”

“Wait a second, why would Henry act like you didn’t have a date when you were going with him all along?”

“Well, back then he was going with Amelia, but that, um, fell through,” she said, not wanting to air Henry’s dirty laundry. “And it all kind of started because he was getting back at me for something. It’s a very long story. But I promise you, I’m happy to be going with him now. Or at least not super crabby about going with him.”

“You could have told me no,” Stewart said.

“Are you kidding me?” Paisley asked, her eyes wide. She picked up a plastic knife and broke it.