Prom Date (12 page)

A
s much as Devon liked being the center of attention, she was somewhat relieved when the focus of her birthday party switched over to a discussion of how they were going to get the guys to step up and start delivering some promposals. Oh, for sure, this surprise party had been amazing. And her friends were amazing. But for the first time in her life, Devon felt like she could do with a little less of the limelight. That felt surprisingly good.

“I know we said we were not going to use any Dating Games tricks to get the guys to take us to prom,” Bryn was saying. “But with prom getting pushed so far up, we might need to resort to some tactical maneuvers to get this thing off the ground.”

Abby laughed. “You make it sound like warfare.”

“It is like warfare,” Bryn told her. “Right now, it's the guys against us. How long do you think they'll hold out on their silly boycott anyway? I honestly thought they'd be over it by
now. But so far no tickets have been sold. No one has committed to going to prom. And every single day is costing us.”

“Costing us?” Felicia looked confused.

“Not literally,” Bryn admitted. “But it does take away some of the fun. And it contributes to the stress. Wouldn't it be nice if we all knew who was taking us to prom right now?”

“I don't know,” Cassidy told her. “Maybe it would be more fun to just let things take their course.”

“What if that means you don't go to prom at all?” Bryn asked.

Cassidy shrugged. “That's fine.”

“Really?” Bryn looked shocked.

“Maybe I'd get a girls' group together,” Cassidy told her. “That could be fun.”

“I agree,” Felicia said suddenly. “It might be more fun to go with a group of girls. Less pressure, you know?”

“That's a good point,” Emma told her.

“But what about a promposal?” Bryn asked. “And the prize?”

“Maybe a girl will win it,” Cassidy suggested.

“And since the girls are the ones who've worked the hardest on all this, maybe that would be more fair,” Devon said, finally joining the conversation.

Bryn looked stunned. “Seriously, Devon, are you siding with them now? Of all the girls, I figured you would stick with me on this.”

Devon felt uncertain now. Bryn was right; this was a little out of character for her. But she just wanted to be honest. “I guess I'm not feeling all that desperate right now, Bryn. Like who cares if a guy asks you to prom or not? What's the big deal? We can still dress up and go on our own. And it might
be more fun that way.” She grinned at her friends. “Really, you guys are the best. I'd be honored to have all of you for my prom dates.”

“That's the spirit,” Cassidy told her.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Here's to girl power.”

Just like that, everyone except Bryn was totally on board with the idea that they might just go to prom as a bunch of girlfriends. And, really, what was wrong with that?

Because it was a school night and because some of them had homework, the amazing party finally had to come to an end. Although some of the girls offered to stay to clean up, Devon insisted that they let her do it.

“But it's your birthday,” Cassidy told her.

“Yeah, so I get to call the shots, right?” Devon winked. “And I want to clean up. Okay? And while I'm cleaning up I'll be replaying the way you guys scared the spit out of me when I walked in the door.” She laughed, pushing them toward the front door and thanking them all over again.

She used her “call the shots” line on Grandma Betty too, insisting that the older woman call it a night. “I really want to do this,” she told her. “Unless you don't trust me with your good china. I promise to be careful.”

Thankfully, Grandma Betty didn't argue. But before she went to her room, she gave Devon another big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You're a
good
girl, Devon Fremont, and I thank the good Lord that you're part of my life,” she said in a serious tone. “Happy birthday, darling!”

As Devon loaded the dishwasher, she felt equally thankful for Grandma Betty—and for her friends. And as she carefully washed and dried the delicate china, she felt like something inside her was clicking into place. She wasn't sure what it was
exactly, but she could definitely feel it. Maybe it was part of growing up, turning seventeen. Or maybe it had something to do with her heart . . . and God . . . but something in her was changing. And it felt good.

Devon was aware that some of the girls, Bryn in particular, were under the illusion that Devon might go to prom with Harris. Probably because she'd gone to the Christmas ball with him. And really, as friends they got along pretty well.

“I can ask Harris for you,” Bryn had told Devon while they were prom shopping on Devon's birthday. But Devon had persuaded Bryn to keep that idea on hold for now. Although Devon liked Harris well enough, she suspected that his interest in her was fairly minimal. In fact, she'd caught him looking at Amanda Norton a couple of times and she wouldn't be surprised if those two went to prom together.

And it wasn't as if she really cared. As obsessed as Bryn was with lining up dates for prom, Devon had meant what she'd said at her birthday party last night—she would be just fine going with a bunch of girls. In fact, it might be fun. Besides that, Devon really felt like she had some unfinished business to attend to. Something she wanted to take care of before she even considered going to prom. But she knew it wouldn't be easy.

Every morning Devon had gone out of her way to avoid a certain person in her first-period English class. Leonard Mansfield. To be fair, Leonard went out of his way to avoid her as well. And who could blame him? When Devon considered how she'd treated him at the masquerade ball last fall,
the fit she'd thrown when she realized he was her “blind date” and how she'd left him high and dry at the dance, well, she felt genuinely ashamed of herself. To be fair, this was only a recent revelation and something she had admitted to no one. Not even Grandma Betty.

This morning, Devon didn't plan to avoid Leonard. And knowing that he was always the first one in his seat, sitting far in the back—probably to avoid crossing paths with her—she made sure to get to class early today. Sure enough, there was Leonard sitting in back with his nose in a book.

“Hey Leonard,” she said quietly.

Leonard looked up with big brown eyes, reminding her of the clichéd deer caught in the headlights. “Huh?”

She slipped into the seat next to him, leaning over. “I know you probably hate me,” she whispered. “And I can't blame you for that. The way I treated you last fall, at the masquerade ball—well, it was really, really bad. I was totally rude and selfish and stupid and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry.”

Leonard blinked, then looked all around, almost as if he suspected there was a hidden camera or something.

“I'm not punking you,” she assured him. “I just want you to know I'm truly sorry. And maybe someday . . . well, maybe you can forgive me. Okay?”

He still looked stunned, but at least he nodded. “Uh, yeah—okay.”

She stuck out her hand. “Friends?”

He looked uneasy, as if he thought she'd jerk her hand back or pull some other rude stunt, but eventually he reached out his hand and she shook it. “Honestly, Leonard, I am sorry.” She released his hand and smiled.

He nodded again, and this time he looked a little more at ease. “Thanks, Devon,” he muttered. “That means a lot to me.”

“Thank you, Leonard. And I mean it—I hope you'll consider me your friend now.”

He gave a slightly uncertain nod. “Yeah, sure.”

Since other kids were entering the room and taking their seats, Devon considered moving. But then she turned back to Leonard. “Mind if I sit back here?”

He shrugged.

And so she remained there, even though she could tell that kids were looking curiously at her. She suspected that many of them knew how she—dressed as Juliet—had rudely dumped Leonard, her Romeo, at the masquerade ball. They probably even knew that she'd been drunk. Her cheeks flushed to remember how stupid she'd been back then. And even though it was only about half a year since all that happened, she felt like it was ancient history. She never wanted to go back there.

After class ended, she turned back to Leonard and smiled. To her relief, he returned her smile. “See ya around,” she said cheerfully as she gathered her stuff.

“Yeah, see you, Devon.” His eyes lit up. “And thanks.”

“Thank you,” she told him as she stood to leave.

As Devon walked to her next class, she couldn't believe how good she felt. Who knew that apologizing to someone came with such a good rush? And, really, Leonard seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Why on earth had she been so nasty to him?

It wasn't until her last class, drama, that Devon got an idea. Okay, maybe it was a crazy idea, but Devon knew she was
going to do it. It would take a bit of planning and a bit of luck, but she was determined to pull it off. She confided her idea to the drama teacher, Mr. Ramsay, and after swearing him to secrecy, she talked him into loaning her something. “I promise to return it in perfect condition tomorrow,” she assured him.

The next morning, dressed in her full-length black coat, Devon found Isaac McKinley, who was also in her first-period English class. Acting like a foreign spy, she pulled him aside and asked him to do a favor.

“What is it?” he asked curiously.

She quickly explained the details to him. “Just make sure you get a good seat,” she said finally. “I need to come in a few minutes late.”

He chuckled. “I can't wait to see this—and to record it too.” He held up his iPhone. “See ya in there, Juliet.”

“Oh, yeah.” Devon took a deep breath and, steadying herself, she started to unbutton her coat. The final bell rang and the halls were relatively quiet as she tossed the bulky coat to the floor and did some final adjustments to the Juliet costume that she'd borrowed from Mr. Ramsay. “Here goes nothing,” she said under her breath.

Holding her head high, Devon opened the door to the English room. A couple of kids looked up and giggled and then she began. “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, dear Romeo?” She strolled across the front of the room, enjoying the spectacle she was making. Then she stopped and, holding her hand over her mouth, she said, “Oops, I mean, Leonard, Leonard, wherefore art thou, dear Leonard?” She
turned to Leonard, who was staring at her with a horrified expression.

But she continued going down the row toward him, calling his name. When she reached his desk, she fell to her knees. “Dear Leonard,” she said with what she hoped looked like genuine affection, “please, tell me that now that you have forgiven me, you will do me the favor of going to prom with me. Please, dear Leonard, I beg you for mercy. Do not deny me this heartfelt request.” With hands clasped she peered up at him.

Leonard's face seemed to grow even paler as he stared at her in horror, but he said nothing and the classroom was so quiet Devon thought she could hear Leonard's heart pounding.

“Please, Leonard,” she pressed on, “do not leave me hanging here like this. I am asking you to go to prom with me. Please, say yes, Leonard.”

He locked eyes with her as if considering this.

“Come on, Leonard,” someone called out. “Tell Jules you'll take her to prom.”

“Yeah, Leonard. Say yes.”

Leonard's head bobbed up and down and he finally said, “Okay, I guess I can take you, Devon—uh, I mean, Juliet.”

Everyone clapped as she leaped to her feet and hugged him. “Thank you, Leonard,” she cried. “You will not be sorry.”

She hurried up to the front of the classroom, assuring the teacher that she would be back in five minutes. “Sorry about that,” she murmured.

He laughed. “It's okay. I kind of enjoyed the show.”