The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(92)

“Thanks, so are you,” I said and meant it. Her scarlet dress hugged her curves, and her thick black hair tumbled down her back in waves, sparkles catching the light.

“Oh my God, did you hear from Miller?” she said. “He got the deal!”

“Yeah, he texted me.” I wondered with a pang if he’d called Evelyn first and tried to corral the jealousy.

“Isn’t it incredible?” she crowed. “Not that I’m surprised. I never doubted my boy for a second.”

My boy.

I started to ask her not to talk about my boyfriend like that, but she moved in close.

“Listen, Vi. I need to apologize to you.”

“For what?” I asked warily.

“For being cold and distant lately. Okay, fine. I’ve been a raging bitch.”

“I thought you were pissed at me for being Homecoming Queen.”

“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “That was an eternity ago.”

I had a feeling she was being magnanimous because word on the street was that she was going to be Prom Queen and River would be her King.

“But for real,” Evelyn said. “I became caught up in handling Miller’s career, and I got carried away. But now that I’m set, I don’t want any bad blood between us. Do you forgive me?”

Before I could ask her what she meant that she was set, Donte Weatherly grabbed her around the waist and whispered something in her ear.

“Such a pig!” she laughed, smacking his arm. She gave me a little wave and then Donte swept her into the crowd of dancers.

River offered me his hand. “Want to dance?”

I forced a smile. “Sure.”

We squeezed onto the crowded dancefloor and were engulfed in the energy and music. River leaned in. “How am I doing compared to Homecoming?”

“Well, considering you never showed up for that one…”

He laughed. “I had nowhere to go but up.”

I laughed too, and we danced. One song after another, both of us trying to forget what was coming—college, separations, distance between us and what we loved. Over the course of the night, River was a perfect gentleman, bringing me hors d’oeuvres and sparkling water when we needed to refuel.

The DJ then announced it was time to reveal the Prom King and Queen, and we took our seats at one of the dozen large round tables.

I leaned into River. “Do you have your speech planned?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s gonna be me.”

“Who else would it be?”

He shrugged. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

Vice Principal Chouder took the stage, microphone in hand, and introduced Layla Calderon and her Prom Committee. The nominees for Queen were read—the usual suspects, and my name was unsurprisingly absent. I didn’t care except that it was a symptom of the failing friendship between Caitlin, Julia, and me.

Or maybe that was all a figment of my imagination.

Then Layla quieted the crowd. “Your Santa Cruz Central High Prom Queen is…”

The DJ played in electric version of a drum roll.

“Evelyn Gonzalez!”

Applause and cheers went up, and Evelyn took the stage looking radiant and triumphant. And not at all surprised. She and Layla hugged and kissed, and then Layla hung a sash over Evelyn’s dress while another girl placed a tall tiara on her head.

“It’s like a beauty pageant my little sister watches on TLC. Toddlers and Tiaras?”

I smothered a laugh with my hand. “Careful now. You’re up next.”

Layla took center stage again. “And now, I am beyond excited to announce your Central High Prom King…Miller Stratton!”

The ballroom went wild, a chorus of girls screaming and cheering the loudest.

Shock ripped through me, leaving me dazed. I looked around for Miller with everyone else, wondering if he was going to come striding through the crowd to take his crown.

“Well that’s something,” River said. “Did you know that was going to happen?”

“I had no idea.”

The cheers died down into confused mutterings, everyone still looking for Miller. Evelyn said something to Layla, and Layla handed her the microphone.

“Miller can’t be here tonight to accept his crown, but I assure you he has a very good reason.” Evelyn paused for effect. “He just signed a record deal with Gold Line Records!”

The ballroom erupted all over again, girls clasping hands and jumping up and down with excited, knowing smiles. It was irrational—they only knew him from the videos—but there was a familiarity in their reaction that felt as if they were taking something of him away from me. Evelyn especially beamed as if she’d given him to them like a benevolent queen throwing scraps to her subjects.

“Guess I’ll be playing your King’s own jams at the next party,” the DJ chimed in. “Give it up for your King and Queen, Miller Stratton and Evelyn Gonzalez!”

The crowd cheered louder, and Evelyn threw both arms in the air triumphantly.

I felt sick. A few heads turned to look at me curiously. Piteously. Some knew that Miller and I were together, but most did not. My cheeks ached to keep my smile in place as a strange feeling came over me. That Miller belonged to them. To Evelyn. She had taken possession of him, claimed his success for her own. She’d been the one who propelled him to the record deal, but the feeling in my stomach was green and twisty, and I hated it.