The Unconditional Pledge

25 Ava

"You're a pretty good dancer," Noah shouts in my ear.

The music around us is so loud that I can barely hear his voice. "You're a pretty good liar," I shout back, and I catch his smile in a streak of neon light.

Anytime now, they'll be announcing king and queen of the Fall Ball. I feel more confident than I thought I would be. It feels like half the school has approached Noah and I already, complimenting my dress and treating me like they treat Paige — or like they had treated Paige. I haven't seen much of her tonight, and I haven't bothered to look for her. The last time I'd seen her was in the corner, arguing with Juliby. Her date, Vincent Hawkins, a quiet boy in our grade — all the more outgoing guys already have dates, I'm assuming — had stood behind her, looking uncomfortable.

Noah grabs my hand and spins me around, laughing when I stumble and don't quite do it as elegantly as I wanted to in my heels. I laugh with him, letting him catch me.

Just as I regain my balance, the music dies down and a hush falls over the crowd. The stage lights turn on, and our principal, Mr. Stevenson, steps in front of the microphone. In Fieldbrook Heights, even the principal is good-looking — Mr. Stevenson looks like he's barely in his mid-thirties, and all the girls I know think he's cute. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says, smiling. "I hope you're all having fun tonight. It's time to announce king and queen of the Fall Ball."

The crowd cheers. I catch Courtney's eye a few feet away from me. Her cheeks are flushed from the dancing. Ashton, as well as the other senior boys involved in the Whooping, had just left moments ago. You've got this, she mouths to me. I grin back, suddenly too nervous to speak. Noah grabs my hand and squeezes it. It all comes down to this, I think to myself, squeezing his hand back. I'm either winning or losing my pledge tonight. The past two months have led to this moment.

Mr. Stevenson tears open the white envelope in his hands. It must take less than twenty seconds, but it feels like it goes on forever. Finally he looks at the card and smiles.

"Congratulations," he says, and I'm almost too busy thinking, Say Ava, say Ava, that I don't hear him say, "Ava Lasola, queen of the Fall Ball."

The crowd erupts in cheering. All of a sudden, everyone's clapping my back, congratulating me, and I'm speechless. Over the roar of the students, Mr. Stevenson shouts, "And congratulations, Noah Roberts, king of the Fall Ball!"

I'm smiling, or I think I am, because I'm still so shocked and so much is happening at once — confetti is raining down, getting in my hair, on my shoulders — and everyone's so loud that I can barely think. Someone tugs on my hand, and then I realize it's Noah, pulling me towards the stage.

I've won, I think numbly as I pass students on my way to the front. Courtney looks so proud, like a mom whose child has just gotten into Harvard, and when she catches my eye again she pretends to wipe a tear away. "That's my baby," she even shouts, although I can only tell because I'm reading her lips.

Dana Cruz smiles and gives me a thumbs-up, and even Megan Amante is clapping grudgingly, a smile on her lips. Their dates are clapping, too, although I know the boys couldn't care less about the results. I scan the crowd for the one face I haven't seen, but Paige isn't anywhere near me. All of a sudden, it doesn't matter.

Once I'm on the stage, Mr. Stevenson sets a crown on my head and one on Noah's. I'm grinning so hard my cheeks feel like they'll crack. Just as I'm stepping towards the microphone, though, I find out where Paige is — storming up the steps.

"No!" she shrieks. "No, there's been a mistake, Mr. Stevenson. There needs to be a recount."

The auditorium suddenly falls silent. The strap of Paige's dress has slipped off a shoulder, her hairdo has become undone, and the sweat on her face looks like tears under the lights. Her mascara has become so smudged under one eye that it looks like she left one half of her face outside in the rain.