The Friendzone Promposal -#OnceUponNow

The Week Before Prom

Mallory puts her hair up in her go to messy bun realizing it's the only way she can salvage being on time. Carefully she removes some of her long bangs and arranges them to cover her left eye and cheek.  School is about to start and Trevor will be picking her up any minute. She banishes the idea of a shower and instead applies a quick layer of make-up skillfully enough to look like she isn't wearing any and spritzes herself in some body spray.

It's not like people are going to notice me anyway..

As she slides on her black skinny jeans, black hoodie, and her retro Chuck Taylors to finish off her shadow blending motif, the familiar hum of Trevor's Chevy, 'Black Beauty', echoes through the windows as it pulls into the driveway. Grabbing her ID and tucking it beneath her hoodie, she stops for a quick glance in the mirror to make sure her reflection doesn't look as disgusting as she feels inside.

"Mirror mirror on the wall....who isn't excited for today at all? Whoops, wrong fairytale. I am so not that princess. More like the invisible Princess that wasn't."

Well, except for the flaw. That's never invisible.

Two friendly beeps send her flying out the door, and she jumps into Black Beauty like an Olympic pole vaulter. As she pulls her seatbelt across her chest, her nose is assaulted by the stench of sour decay.

"Trevor!! We agreed. No hockey equipment in the car. Oh man!! How can you put that on your body? Thank goodness I skipped breakfast!"

Trevor hands over a cup of hot coffee. Cinnamon scented steam wafts from the tiny hole and Mallory quickly lifts the cup to her nose thankful for the smell reprieve.

"Thank you. You're forgiven. Barely."

He turns and flashes her his best million dollar smile. The same one that Mallory is sure would melt the resolve of every girl he used it on. Mallory has seen it a thousand times since they were kids although he hasn't used it on her since last year when he needed help passing algebra.

"Slept in late?  Drink the coffee. I need you sharp today. I need a big favor from you my friend."  Mallory plasters on a smile wondering what diabolical plan will get her grounded this time. Trevor has always had a knack for getting her into sticky situations and she, a knack for always letting him.

"What is it this time?  Hack into the pentagon database and make yourself a general?" 

Trevor gives her a mercy chuckle and quickly turns it into a disappointed frown. "I'm serious. I'm desperate. And you happen to be my best friend, and only hope."

Mallory straightens her shoulders and puts on her game face. If he's pulling the best friend card, she's going to have to perk up and pay attention.

"I want to make a Promposal to the new girl Jessica. Like a really good one. I know I wasn't planning on going, and it's only a week away, but this new girl has only been here a few months, so I've got a shot. Proposals are all the rage goth girl! And the best ones are planned by girls. And you're sort of a girl, so I was hoping..."

Mallory chokes on her coffee, making her inhale the thick rancid odor of jock sweat and dead skin. "Sort of a girl?  We've been over this a thousand times! I am a girl. Just because You've been beaten by me at like, everything, doesn't make me less of a girl!" She plays off the insult with mock anger while she pulls a little more hair from her bun to cover her face. Hiding her birthmark is an impulse she clings to whenever her insecurities hit.

Trevor raises his hands off the steering wheel in an 'I surrender' pose and pouts out his bottom lip. "I'm sorry, I only meant you're more of a friend than a girl. Like, ugh! That's not what I wanted to say either. Just say you'll help me. Please?  You know I'm clueless about romance and promposals and girl things."

She takes another giant gulp of her coffee as an excuse for the scrunching face she knows she's making. Her hand automatically clenches into a fist and an inner yearning appears willing it to smack him upside the head.  Weighing her options, the buried fist remains in place. The fear of him crashing the car and killing them both wins out, for now.

He's a guy. And clueless. And it's just as much my fault for being a chicken.

Yeah, he is clueless. She has stared at, dreamed of, and drooled over him for a year now. And he still thinks she holds his feet during sit ups because of a seventh grade bet gone bad.

Clueless is an understatement.

But helping him take another girl to prom? That's something she doesn't think she can do. Even the thought of it makes her chest hurt.

Where are those evil flying monkeys when I need them?

"Trev, I've always got your back. But you know, you could go classic and just ask her. It's almost too trendy now to make such a big deal of it. YouTube hits on Promposal are way down."

As Beauty lurches to a stop in the school parking lot, Trevor's face lights up. He gives her a wink and a deep pink blush travels from his neck to the tips of his ears. Mallory knows that means he's about to say something he doesn't believe. She's always told him never to play poker because his face is a dead giveaway for his emotions.

"Don't start messing with my mind today Mal. No one wants classic. It's just another way to say ordinary. And Jessica doesn't like ordinary. She likes extraordinary. Which is why she's going to like me!"

Mallory rolls her eyes so drastically it gives her a stomach knot. She reaches out her still balled fist and finally releases her fury by punching him on the shoulder.

"At least you share the same delusions!  You have that going for you. Relax Trev. She won't turn you down. If she does, she's crazy."

Trevor swings around and for an instant she imagines he is about to put his arm around her. Instead he gives her bun a yank and grabs his backpack from the seat behind hers. She groans as the hair cascades down her shoulders and the messy bun takes on the look of straight up bed head.

"No fair! Foul" she huffs trying to swirl the caramel colored locks back into submission. Trevor gets out of the car shaking his head at her. As he walks away he yells over his shoulder. "I'll meet you at lunch, We can pick your brain and come up with something perfect."

Sure, pick my brain, you've already broke my heart. Maybe you can take my kidney too, and make it a trifecta of torture.

He walks left towards North House, the wing for seniors, known as the 'Holy Grail' of hallways where every day is a countdown to being done with school. The magical mystical land where Trevor spends his days laughing with his hockey buddies and now drooling over the new transfer Jessica. The probable cheerleader, who is no doubt perfect for Trevor with long legs and a megawatt smile.  Mal hasn't met her yet, but knowing Trevor, her vision feels pretty solid.

As she exits the car, new bun intact, it's impossible to miss the shriek of the first period bell. "Perfect, now I'm late. I so need a fairy godmother. Or a wizard who can rewind time."  She grabs her backpack and does an impressive sprint towards what appears to be a very long day.

The first three classes of the day go by without drama. Even Mr. Hart fails to give her a lecture for being late, miraculously, he didn't seem to notice her slip into the class. If it weren't for Trevor and his Promposal pressure it would be a fairly normal invisible day.

As she always does, Mallory carries her lunch to the bench in the courtyard to watch Trevor and his hockey friends play whatever sport allows them to knock each other around the most.  It keeps her away from the constant barrage of cafeteria noise and allows her to capitalize upon one of her greatest roles in life: spectator.

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