“That’s the dream.” Sophie sighs. “Did I show you guys my dress?” She flips her phone around.
“Oh my God, they’re animals.” Meleika runs right for our table and collapses into her seat. “Look, I chipped a nail! And they stepped on my shoes.”
“Did you get them?” Sophie asks.
“Yes, I did, Sophie, thank you for being concerned about my well-being.” She hands Sophie her ticket.
“Thank you.” Sophie takes it, sliding the ten dollars over to Meleika. “You sure you aren’t going, Ben? It’s going to be fun.”
“I think I’ll survive,” I tease.
“Okay!”
That week I stay after school pretty much every day. Thomas has to come up with a way to spend the last two weeks of class, which seems like a waste, but he says he’s got a few cool experiments planned. I pretty much spend the rest of that extra time in the art room. It’s going to be hard to leave this place behind. I’ll have to ask Hannah if it’ll be okay to buy my own supplies. My birthday is in October anyway, and a paint set might not make such a bad gift.
The day of actual prom is a lot more relaxed, especially since half the senior class decides to skip, probably to get ready. None of the teachers really care either. Thomas just throws on Planet Earth, but it somehow manages to enthrall the entire class, except the part where the fungus infects the ant’s brain. Everyone pretty much has to turn away from that scene.
“Hey,” Nathan whispers, and when I look over at him he slides a piece of paper. It’s easy to hide it in the dark, but when I try to read it I have to angle it toward the movie.
My place, tonight, 9 o’clock? is written in big blocky letters. And underneath that he’s got Y/N with my extra prom ticket taped to it.
“I told you I’m not going,” I whisper.
“Just humor me?” He slides over a marker.
“What is it?” I look at the note again and then back at Nathan. There’s something odd about the way he’s looking at it, and he won’t quite meet my eyes.
“Just answer.”
“Not unless you tell me what’s up.”
Nathan rolls his eyes. “Yes or no?”
I’ll never win an argument with this boy. I read over the five words again as if they’ve changed somehow. I stare at the ticket, the black-and-red font, the clip-art disco ball. What on earth could he be planning to do with it? I circle Y and hand the note back to him.
“You’ll need the ticket,” he says, and I swipe the note back from him and yank on the ticket, keeping it folded in my pocket until I get home.
If I go over there and he’s rented me a tuxedo and tries to drag me to prom, I’m not going to make it easy for him. According to the ticket, the dance starts at eight, so if he wanted to dress me and push me into a limo he’d probably want me there earlier, right? Why does he even want me to go?
“Ben? Can you come here for a moment?” Mrs. Liu calls from her office.
“Huh?” I’ve been thinking about the ticket in my pocket since Nathan gave it to me. Thinking about it so much, in fact, that I haven’t been able to focus on drawing or painting anything. So I’ve just been cleaning up my workstation in the back, which has really suffered lately. “What’s up?” I ask, peering into her office.
“Well, this is awkward, but I’ll need my key back.”
Oh. “Of course.” I reach into my pocket and grab my ring of keys, carefully sliding off the one to the art room. As I hand it to her, it feels like I’m giving away this piece of myself.
Good-bye, art room.
“I also wanted to say how proud I am of you.”
“I … thank you,” I say.
“In all my years of teaching, rarely do I get students with the same drive and ambition I’ve seen in you, Ben.” She rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’m really going to miss you.”
I hold out my arms and Mrs. Liu is all too eager to take my hug, squeezing me so tight I can hardly breathe for a few seconds. “Whoops, sorry. Don’t know my own strength.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “You have no idea how much everything you’ve done means to me.”
“Oh, Ben.” God, she’s actually crying. This is why I don’t get sentimental. “How much do I have to pay you to stay?”
Well, I’ll still be in Raleigh. “A few thousand?” I offer.
She laughs, wiping the corners of her eyes with her apron. “Deal.”
When I get home, I try to make myself busy all afternoon, but I can’t focus on any shows, or even Mariam’s newest vlog. Georgia is their next stop. I try to talk with Hannah while she gets ready, but I’m so antsy and I can’t sit still. I take my second Xanax of the day, making sure I mark it down in the journal, but it’s not really helping this weird bubbling in my stomach.
“You okay, kid?” she asks.
“Yeah, just …” I drift off without even meaning to.
“Benji?” She snaps her fingers right in my face.
“Would it be that note Nathan passed you in class today?” Thomas asks.
I stare at Thomas, who’s leaning over the countertop and typing something on his phone. “How did you—”
“Don’t ask, kid,” Hannah tells me. “I can’t get away with anything around here.”
Thomas points at me and then at his eyes. “I see everything. Teacher superpower.”
When they’ve left, I waste the rest of my time pacing back and forth in my room, staring at the time on my phone. I swear it’s going slower. I check it once at 8:15, and even though it feels like an hour’s passed, it’s only 8:17 when I check again.
I fall on my bed facedown, setting an alarm for ten till. Maybe I can just sleep away the forty minutes. But nope, not happening. I just stare at my ceiling until the alarm comes. And when it does, I feel stuck.
It’s time, but I’m still not sure what he’s doing. I double-check that the ticket is still in my pocket, right where I put it this afternoon.
When I make it to his door, I nearly just run back home and forget the whole thing. But this is obviously important to Nathan. I ring the doorbell and wait a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps. But there’s nothing. Not even Ryder’s barking. I knock again and wait. Still nothing.
Then my phone starts to ring, Nathan’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Come on inside, it’s unlocked,” he says.
“Okay.” I open the front door slowly. “Where are you?”
“You’re getting warmer.”
“Nathan.”
“Play along? I spent all week planning this. Now, where are you?”
“The hallway by the kitchen.” I think I can hear his voice. Somewhere around here.
“Okay, you’re still lukewarm at best. Like when you warm up chili in the microwave and it’s hot on the outside but cold in the middle?”
“That’s a gross metaphor.”
“A simile, my dear Watson.”
“Did I tell you I passed my English exam?”
“No, that’s great!”
“Yup. Well, I barely passed the class with a C, but I did it.”