Liars and Losers Like Us(73)

“And for Prom King, Juuuuustin Conner.” Justin hops off his chair and bows. Langley places the king’s crown on his head and kisses him on the cheek. Everyone is yelling and cheering, “Speech, Speech.”

Justin takes the mic from Shandy. “This means the world to me. The world. I’ve been dreaming about this day since I was a baby. Literally. This one time, when I was a baby, in my crib, I had this dream. I was right here. Right now. Telling you about a dream I had. Seriously folks, thanks.” Shandy yanks the microphone from Justin’s hands. Then she grabs his shoulder to keep him next to her on stage.

“And now the masses have spoken. Belmont High’s Senior Prom Queen is …” She looks back at us. “Breeeeee Hughes!”

Molly leans over Jane and pats my shoulder, smiling. Kallie jumps up and hugs me.

“We did it, girl!”

The roar of the audience clapping and Jane sucking her teeth sound like echoes. I’m not sure but I think they just called my name. Molly stands up, walks behind Jane, and pushes me up out of my seat.

“What?” I say to Kallie.

“Oh please, give us a break with the theatrics. You f*cking won,” Jane hisses in my ear.

My heart is a goddamned drum in my chest. “I know, I heard. So, um, okay.” I squeeze Kallie’s hand before stepping next to Justin, Langley, and Shandy. I am center stage.

“Welcome to the club,” Langley says, placing the crown on my head.

“Congrats,” says Shandy, handing me the mic. She whispers in my ear, “I voted for you.”

“Thanks,” I say into the mic, looking back at her. Beyond the edge of the stage, there are faces, smiling, cheering, and looking directly at me. My face warms up and my dress shimmers beneath the lights beaming onto the stage.

A group of kids in the back yell, “Boooooooo.”

“Can’t please everyone,” I say, my face getting hotter. Then I picture Maisey. I think of how asking the DJ to let me do a personal song dedication is nothing compared to this platform. It’s even better than I hoped.

I inhale, lock my knees, and a wave of composure comes over me. “This is weird. Senior Prom. Crazy, right? Thanks for your votes, really. I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t feel good. Gosh, you probably think we’re all jerks. Just like I thought of these guys last year. Or maybe you think some of us are better than you. Or you’re jealous, like I’ve been. Maybe you think some of us have it all. But, you need to know that’s not even close. No one up here is perfect. We’re bitches, cheaters, bullies, backstabbers, and totally insecure. We have parents that don’t give a shit or parents that care so much it suffocates us. Some of us might even have a parent with a criminal record.” I look over my shoulder to the girls.

Molly and Laura beam. Kallie gives me a thumbs up. Jane’s pageant smile and luminous eyes are washed over with something I’d call poised panic.

I turn back to the crowd. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to shout anyone out. Let’s just say that some of us try so hard pretending we’re someone we’re not, that we become evil bitches stepping over people struggling to get through the day. And some people end up dying feeling like they’re less than human, because we didn’t care. So don’t think any one up here is better than you. We act like we’ve got our shit together, but we don’t. We’re faking it. Just like you guys. You’re liars and losers like us.

“Most importantly, I think we’re even bigger losers if we don’t acknowledge who should really be up here wearing this crown.”

I switch my focus to a line of black and silver balloons along the back wall. “Listen you guys, if things had gone according to plan, someone else would be up here right now.” I picture Maisey hunched over, tears falling onto her good-bye letters. How tired she must’ve been, pissed off, resentful, and broken. How that walk out of the office to decline the Prom Queen nomination must’ve felt like one more giant kick in the face. “Yeah, I’m talking about Maisey Morgan. Most of us would be laughing right now. Or just watching from the sidelines, glad it wasn’t us. I’d like to think that she wouldn’t have gotten my vote. But that doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have stood up for her. I didn’t. Year after year and I never did. I wish I would have. I’m sure some of you do too. She was messed up. And we messed up.”

Shandy reaches her hand out for the mic, but I walk to the other side of the stage and continue. “You know, I’ve been hanging out with these guys for the past couple months and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that we’re all f*cked up in some way or another.”

Sean meets my eyes with a small nod and a smile.

“School shouldn’t make things worse” I say. “We’re supposed to make things better for each other. High school is supposed to be like a getaway from everything else. Ask any ‘grown-up.’ It should be like a break from the real world—the one at home and the one we’ll have to deal with next year. I’m not saying what happened to Maisey is because of us, but I’m not saying that it’s not. What I’m saying is that it could’ve been prevented—here. Inside our school. Maybe we could’ve made a difference. I don’t know. And I hate not knowing. Because it’s too late. She’s dead. I never stood up for her. I laughed. I made jokes. I was glad it wasn’t me. And I was never really sorry until it was too late. I actually tried to apologize to her once. You know what I did though? I made sure no one else was around. She didn’t care. And I didn’t care enough either.