The Prom Queen's Date

Chapter Fourteen

We stuck to Anna's promise to send off the marketing material to Mr. Byers on Sunday evening for approval. We were given the go-ahead to start posting the content on Monday morning as well as hanging up all the posters, banners and flyers about the prom.

She made her sister drive us early to school when no one was around, and that was the only time during the entire day that was any semblance of peace.

In the bubbly haze of kissing Sabrina Jenkins, I'd forgotten about the fall out of posting those pictures of the potential prom queens online. It was way more intense than the aftermath of Maisie sending those tweets about me – which made sense because I wasn't at all popular.

That buzz paired with the excitement about prom made for a headache of a day. People came us to about ticket prices, I directed them to the nearest poster. Other people were excited that they didn't have to deal with two somewhat romantic occasions and were happy to save money.

To my surprise, before English literature began and when we were all waiting for the teacher to come in, Maisie sat beside me and handed me a rose made out of paper. "A rose for Cupid."

"Thanks." It was really pretty. "Guessing you like the theme?"

"It's awesome. Having people going around the school with bows and arrows before prom? It's genius. You'll raise so much money for the prom fund in a week." Maisie took out her notepad. "And donating the rest to the cat shelter? You're quite the catch, Sam."

"Honestly, Anna deserves most of the credit."

"Yeah, it's been a pretty eventful morning," she commented. "Anna even sneaked them pictures of her sister and Parker."

"She's a real one."

"We're in the same boat now."

My stomach dropped. "What?"

Maisie concentrated on doodling a heart on her notepad. "I told you before that I liked Parker. And even if you deny that you like Sabrina, we both know the truth. How can you not? You were the damsel in distress. It's a cliché for a reason. You must have liked her. You do like her, don't you?"

"How are you?" I asked, deciding not to comment on her somewhat accurate assumptions, gliding my thumb around the ridges of the rose.

"A little heartbroken. A lot heartbroken." Maisie crossed out the heart over and over again. "That's why I'm glad there are people like you and Anna organizing an awesome week of Valentine's. It'll be a nice distraction. I guess that's why the theme, the design and the ideas are so good because they're your distraction too."

"It's just a way to spend more time with Anna," I explained.

"Maybe I'm looking too much into it," she admitted. "Trying to find my own hurt in you. Projecting. That's the word."

"I'm here if you want to talk about it. Or anything."

"Talk about girls with the girl I went on a date with?" Maisie's pen stopped moving.

"Is that weird?"

"Probably." She grinned. "Who cares? I'm taking up your offer anyway. Even if you deflect or ignore my very accurate projections onto you."

I grinned back at her. "Cool."

"Oh and Sam, you have a little . . ." She pointed at her own neck, wearing this overly large Cheshire cat smile. "Hickey. Right there."

I rested my forehead against the table and breathed out loudly, making her giggle. Before she could poke fun at me or ask who was the person behind it, Mrs. Cunningham swooped into the room, apologizing for being late once again.