Operation Prom Date (Tactics in Flirting, #1)(43)
Deciding I was simply psyching myself out and maybe even doing some self-sabotage so I wouldn’t have to risk possibly getting rejected, I looked down at my notebook with my detailed Operation. It had gotten me this far. I just needed to take those last few steps.
Then I’d have an awesome friend I could have low-key hangouts with and the perfect prom date, and I could declare the end of my senior year a raging success.
Not allowing myself any more time to second-guess my decision, I hit the little telephone next to Mick’s name, and the phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
“You’ve got Mick. Leave me a message.”
My blood pressure skyrocketed. Clearly I should’ve prepared for this option. The beep made me jump. “Hey, ’sup?” Oh my gosh, did I really just use “’sup?” “Anywho,” I said, because I couldn’t stop saying the wrong thing. “I was wondering what you were up to today. And tonight. Really, either one.”
Abort, abort, abort…
“Guess I’ll catch up with you later.” I hit end, then flopped onto my bed face-down and groaned into the pillow. Why had I gone all guns blazing and called him instead of sending an editable text? Boldness was totally overrated.
My phone rang and I jerked up. He called me back!
Only it wasn’t Mick. Cooper’s name flashed across my display instead.
A flutter of excitement went through my tummy, and I took one quick second to make sure my emotions were in check before answering. “Hey, Space Case.”
“I’ll give you that one, but I want a new nickname, stat.”
“I’ll get right on it. Oh, and I know you can’t see me, but I’m saluting you right now.” I saluted nobody, because not doing it seemed like lying, and guilt came after me for stupid reasons. “How do you feel about Aquaman?”
“Well, I’ve seen the preview for the upcoming movie with him in it, and our bodies are equally as ripped, so…”
“You’re at a six on the Kanye scale, so I’d stop there. Honestly, I’d put it higher, but since I was the one foolish enough to compare you to the superhero, I knocked off a few points.”
“Wow, you’re so generous today,” Cooper said. “Speaking of today, what are you up to?”
“Nothing much.”
“I was thinking of heading to downtown Manchester to see what trouble I could get into. You wanna go with?”
As badly as I wanted to go, I almost said no, just in case Mick called—I really needed to amp things up if I was going to ask him to prom this next week. Not to mention the lapse in judgment I’d had over where exactly the friends line was a couple of minutes ago.
But the thought of saying no, only to sit at home by myself, was downright depressing. Especially when it meant time with Cooper, and a casual hangout session would be just the thing to remind me why it was so important to keep our easygoing friendship as is. “I’d be happy to help you get into trouble.”
His low laugh came over the line and wrapped me in warmth. “I’ll be there in a few.”
…
Cooper and I grabbed lunch and then wandered around downtown. I asked him if he had a talk with his dad, and all he said was “Not yet.”
A gold-gilded storefront with a huge window display caught my eye and I put my hand on Cooper’s elbow to stop him from continuing down the sidewalk. “I know that you’re a prom Scrooge, and the last thing in the world guys ever want to do is go into a store with fancy dresses, but can we go peek at the window over there?”
His hesitance was clear, but he let me pull him across the street. Four mannequins donned beautiful formals, the one in the middle shimmering in the sunshine.
Cooper heaved a sigh. “We can go in. But you’re so coming with me to the sporting goods store afterward.”
I let loose a squeal and gave him an attack hug before clamping on to his hand and dragging him inside.
The beautiful dresses deserved to be revered, so I hardly breathed as I approached the rows and rows of them. I walked along, occasionally lifting one up for a better view. Silk and jewel tones and slinky black and red and strappy gowns with bling, and it was totally dress heaven.
Then I saw it.
The dress.
The one I instinctually knew was destined to be mine. Gauzy beaded top, bronze sash at the waist that perfectly tied together the almost nude with a hint of gray fabric and the smoky colored tulle skirt.
I lifted the top few layers of the full, floor-length skirt. “It’s so pretty. Usually I go for bright colors, so I wouldn’t expect to like the combination, but this screams a night of magic under the stars. Which seems extra perfect for the Wish Upon a Star theme.” I spun to Cooper. “Don’t you think?”
He shrugged, proving that, unlike me, he had the casual gesture down pat, and making it clear his enthusiasm level for the prom hadn’t grown any since we first discussed it. Not that it mattered or anything, since I was still planning on asking Mick, so I wasn’t sure why that non-newsflash thought even popped into my head. “If you like it, I like it,” he said.
“Do I have time to try it on?”
“Like I’m going to say no to that puppy-dog face.”
Come to think of it, my lips were stuck out in a pout and I might’ve been batting my eyes extra, but I hadn’t done it on purpose. Not that I didn’t appreciate my features going to bat on my behalf, especially since it’d worked. Please have my size, please have my size.