Chapter 12
I don’t like you.
-T-shirt
Avery
I walked out of my duplex and kept my eyes on my feet.
My camera bag was slung over my shoulder, and my neck felt wobbly as fuck.
But I was halo-free, and I had a job to do.
I didn’t look at Derek’s place.
He’d been home all day long and hadn’t once come over to talk.
Which made me second-guess everything that he’d said the day before.
Maybe I was just reading into the things he was saying, making them more than they were meant to be?
I didn’t know.
What I did know was that I’d been hired by the school to take photos of the prom, and I was going.
Sure, I was dressed up, because I didn’t want to be that butt ugly person dressed in jeans and a t-shirt while everybody else was dressed in their finest.
Luckily my mom had a dress in her closet that she’d worn to her own prom that I’d been able to fit into, or I would’ve been that loser dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
As it was, I didn’t get to have my hair done professionally, nor did I get my nails painted like I’d heard so many other girls getting to go do before the prom.
I had to paint my own nails.
And I was wearing a pair of my mother’s high heels that were a half size too small.
I guess I should’ve counted myself lucky that she had any at all.
I lifted the hem of my dress and walked to my mom’s SUV that Katy had returned full of gas the night before, unlocking it and sliding inside.
The doctor had mentioned that I couldn’t drive if I couldn’t move my head well, but my mom’s SUV had a shit ton of mirrors and a backup/cargo camera that would enable me to see what was behind me.
Which meant dire needs called for extreme decisions—like taking my mom’s SUV and driving it for the first time since she was teaching me how to drive in it.
Backing out of my spot, I waved cordially at the man who was sitting in his car outside of my house.
I wasn’t sure who he was, but he must’ve belonged there because it wasn’t often that people even drove in here. At least not this far down.
He looked familiar, so I’d obviously seen him before, but I was so fucking nervous that I couldn’t place him.
I was going to the prom.
Alone.
Taking photos of my happy classmates and being forced to smile at them when they had made my life a living hell these last two years.
I’d gotten an email today from my guidance counselor saying that I was in the running for Valedictorian.
Me.
I’d somehow managed to do the impossible.
Or someone had managed to do poorly enough that I was allowed to sneak in there.
Whatever the reason, my week of final exams next week would let me know where I ranked amongst my peers.
I’d also been informed that Rachel wouldn’t be walking at graduation by the principal himself who’d called me that morning to explain. He’d also told me that Rachel wasn’t allowed to attend prom or after-prom activities, either.
Not that I’d be going to those.
I was to take photos of the prom and was also told that I didn’t have to take them the entire time. Just enough that they could put some in a slideshow at graduation.
Parking my SUV in the back of the lot, I was just slipping out of the vehicle when I saw a name lighting up my phone screen.
“Hey, Katy,” I said as I answered. “What’s up?”
“Would it be okay if Logan and I came to test drive the car again?” she asked. “He wants to make sure it’s as good as I’m saying before he agrees to buy it.”
I looked at the keys in my hand.
“That’s fine,” I said. “But I took it to prom. I can leave the keys in the seat and you can take it. How long will you be?”
“Where is prom being held?” she asked.
“Maude Cobb,” I answered. “I parked in the very back of the lot.”
She said something to who I assumed was Logan.
“Logan says to leave the keys in the gas cap or something, not inside of it,” she said. “What time will you be done there? I’ll make sure that we don’t leave you stranded.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the time.
“At least a couple of hours,” I answered.
“Okay, cool,” she chirped. “Thank you so much, Avery. You’re the best.”
Grinning, I hung up and shoved the phone back inside my camera bag before hoofing it across the parking lot.
By the time I made it to the front doors, I had a fine sheen of sweat on my upper lip and forehead, and my neck was already screaming.
I smiled at the front desk attendant and gave her my name.
She smiled, checked me off of some list, and pointed to the entrance with a smile.
I walked inside and stared in awe at the transformation.
Our theme this year was ‘ice’ or whatever that meant, and the entire place was straight out of a scene from Frozen.
I blinked in awe, wondering how the hell they’d accomplished this, and pulled out my camera almost on autopilot.
I moved through the room then, taking photos of the decorations, and thankful that I could get a good look before all of the students started arriving.
I was knee-deep in glitter and tulle when I turned with my camera in hand and caught my first glimpse of a couple arriving.
I moved to the edge of the stage and started snapping pictures, capturing the smiles and laughs of the students as they arrived.
One by one, group by group, they showed.
The music was switched to something techno, and the students cheered.
I felt like I was on the outside, looking in.
As if I was experiencing this, but also not experiencing it at the same time.
Granted, in the grand scheme of things, this class wasn’t my original graduating class. But with Kilgore being as small as it was, the juniors were just as friendly with the seniors as they were with the sophomores.
Kilgore’s prom was actually a mixture of juniors and seniors. But there were so many underclassmen here that this might as well have been a prom for the entire high school.
A holler had me looking toward the entrance again, and this time the entire room went silent.
The only thing that was making noise was the music on the speakers that were set up near the stage.
The student body had gone utterly silent.
I looked up from my viewfinder and spotted Derek entering the ballroom. Derek being the cause of all the quietness.
He was wearing a tux.
Full-on tux.
It was black and fit him like it was specifically made for him.
No store-rented tux for Derek Roberts.
I lifted my camera and zoomed in on Derek, my breath catching in my lungs when I caught a look of his clean-shaven face.
I loved seeing all the bearded guys that were on the SWAT team, and a lot of the times, Derek’s scruff went right along with them.