And I wonder if it’s weird for his friends. Especially Jax’s date, who, like Haley, is on the cheer squad and friends with Lacey.
But no one seems to think anything of it. They act like it’s normal for me to sit on Chase Mackenzie’s lap and kiss him. That it’s normal for us to be together.
And I guess, in a way, it is.
Everyone, except for Pace, has played sports with Chase and my brother for years. They were friends in grade school. And back then, we were inseparable.
And really, at this point, I don’t care. I don’t care that I’m basically filling in for Lacey. Although I am glad Chase decided to wear something different, especially after learning she picked the other suit out.
We listen to the music loud, dance around, crack jokes, and have a lot of fun on the ride.
When we arrive at our destination, we get dropped off near a fountain, so we can take more pictures. These are much more fun though. Lots of selfies, kissing, and the kind of goofing around no one did in front of our families.
When it’s time to walk over to the restaurant, Chase takes my hand. “So, I hope it’s okay, but we aren’t joining them for dinner.”
“Why not?”
He hands me a stack of photos. “Well, first, I want to re-create these. They were in the hundred and eighty from my birthday.”
I look at the photos of Chase and me at various ages in front of the fountains here at the Plaza.
“Want to know why my mom was obsessed with taking pics of us down here?”
“Yeah.”
He pulls two other photos out of his coat pocket. Both are of his parents. One when they were probably in middle school and the other from their wedding day, re-creating the same pose.
“You know, everyone says you look like your mom, even me, but you look a lot like your dad in this picture, Chase,” I say, pointing to the wedding one. “Exact same body type, broad shoulders, lean torso. Same face shape. Same goofy grin when he was teasing her, like you do me.”
“My mom said she told him if he didn’t stop making bunny ears behind her, she was going to push him in the fountain.”
“I can picture her doing that,” I say with a laugh.
“But she didn’t,” Chase counters.
“And he put bunny ears on her while she was in her wedding dress. Are you telling me you’re going to do that to me?”
“Basically. My parents will get a kick out of it.”
We spend a little time taking a few more photos, and then he leads me back to the limo, which just pulled into a parking spot near where we were.
“Are we going somewhere else?” I ask him, wondering what he has planned and where we might be going.
“You could say that,” he says with a smirk. “Like back in time.”
And when he opens the door and I step in, I’m shocked.
So shocked and happy that tears instantly burst from my eyes.
The inside of the party limo has been decorated with streamers and signs. A little table is set under the disco ball in the middle of the limo, a bucket of fried chicken sitting on top of it.
I launch myself into his arms, crying.
“Please tell me those are happy tears,” he says.
“I can’t believe you did this for me again.” I look into his eyes. “Why did you do this?” I ask, but all I’m thinking is that I’m pretty sure I just fell completely in love with him all over again.
“Because we have something to celebrate. A do-over—sort of. We are finally going to a dance together.”
He kisses me and then moves to pull out the chair for me. I smile and take a seat.
“I was just going to say, it’s too bad there’s no bubbly, but I just noticed this bucket of ice on the floor next to the table with a bottle in it.” I lean down and read the label, laughing. “Sparkling apple juice, just like back then.”
“Let’s have some before we eat,” Chase says.
I notice that the bottle has already been opened, and there’s a special lid on it to keep the bubbles in. “Why is it open already?”
He doesn’t say anything, just grins, pours us each a glass, and then raises his plastic flute into the air.
I do the same.
“To second chances,” he says.
“I will definitely drink to that even if it is only apple—” I take a sip. Stop. Look over at him.
He winks at me, puts his index finger up to his lips, and goes, “Shh.”
Now, I realize why the bottle was open. He replaced the sparkling cider with real champagne. I take another drink, letting the bubbles tickle my nose. I’m not much of a drinker, especially compared to a lot of the girls at school, who get so drunk at parties and then are hungover the next day. After chatting with a few, I realized that most of the repeat offenders had super-strict rules regarding alcohol in high school, and now that they have no parental supervision, they are just on one long binge. We were allowed to have a beer or a glass of wine at home. So, I guess it doesn’t have the same appeal to me. A cheer party when I was a freshman in high school was the only time I’ve ever gotten sick from drinking. And honestly, that was one time too many. At the lake on vacation, I did drink a little too much wine and was definitely tipsy, but still.
After a few sips, Chase refills our little plastic flutes. While he does that, I take his plate and pile it high with chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn, adding some coleslaw on the side.
“Same for you?” he asks me.
“Hmm. Definitely same assortment. Possibly a slightly smaller portion.”
We eat our chicken, surrounded by the homemade decor, and then clear the table of our dirty plates.
“Should we get rid of what we didn’t eat?” I ask him.
“Heck no. Ten bucks says, everyone will come back and chow down on it.”
“But they are having dinner.”
“A fancy dinner. Lots of perfectly prepared and delicious food but tiny portions.”
“True,” I say, but then I forget all about it when he pulls me onto his lap.
We kiss until everyone gets back to the limo.
I’m in heaven at the dance, flitting around and talking to everyone, telling them how amazing college is, and dancing with Chase. The dancing with Chase is the best part of all because I feel like I’ve been redeemed in a way. That I’m finally here with the right person. The cheerleader and the quarterback, who just happens to be my hot best friend. Seriously, I feel like I could write an entire book about this very moment. The music, the way Chase holds me, the fun we have line-dancing to some of our favorite country songs, jumping up and down and grinding during the electronic ones, and slow dancing to others. It’s exhilarating. And it doesn’t hurt that when we walked in, Chase told me I had to put on my crown. Which, technically, I am supposed to wear—at least until the next queen is announced later tonight.
And when Chase twirls me around, my dress flaring out and a crown on my head, I literally have a fairy-tale moment.
With the boy I love.
I never want this night to end.
And I’m not going to let it. I’m going to spend every second of it in his arms—until I have to go back to school.
At nine thirty, as planned, we make our way backstage. The senior court members, including my brother and Chase, are directed to one side, while the underclassmen and I are sent to the other.