Prom Queen of Disaster (29 page)

“It was still yours,” she said.

“But this isn’t in school anymore,” I said. “Did you wait in here to tell me what you’d done it? Because that was stupid.”

“You don’t have proof,” she said.

“You could be fined, community service,
heck
if they’re strict, you could be put in jail.”

“No proof,” she said.

“I’m not angry with you, Ava,” I said, believing my words. I smiled at her, throwing the used tissue in the trashcan. “I feel sorry for you.”

“Zoey?” I heard my mom call out as she walked into the toilets. “They think it was one of the new girls, they can’t find—her.” She looked Ava up and down.

“Ava?” I turned. “You found yourself a job?”

She barged right passed us both as my mom rushed to my side. She wrapped her arms around me, but I didn’t need to be held. I’d found happiness in not holding onto anger.

“Was it her?” she asked.

“She admitted it,” I said. “But I’m not mad.”

“You’re not,” she laughed.

“I’m happy to be surrounded with my family and friends.”

Hannah and Libby piled into the bathroom next to make sure I was okay. They’d watched Ava escape the gallery without any being noticed. They were shocked to see I was okay. Mainly because my future no longer depended on whether the art work was amazing or not.

“Besides, I have bigger things to worry about,” I said. “We have finals next week.”

I wasn’t going to lose sleep over what had happened. I liked sleep too much, and I needed it if I was going to get through the next week alive. I wasn’t going to surround myself in that drama. They asked me if I knew who was responsible, but I didn’t give them Ava’s name, if other’s did, that was up to them, but she’d crash and burn herself. I didn’t need to give her a helping hand.

I dropped five pounds during finals, I took it as a sign I was doing well. Going from exams to study hall and back into another exam. I lived on coffee and five-hour energy shots, desperate times called for desperate measures, and I wasn’t doing any half-measures with my future at stake.

The weekend after finals, I slept for almost twenty hours. My lack of sleep caught me off guard. With graduation a week away, I was nervous as hell. I wasn’t nervous for me, I knew I’d passed my exams, I knew I had all the credits I needed. I was nervous for Kaleb, but he was completely fine.

“How’re you?” he asked as I lifted my head from his chest.

We’d been watching movies, between them I napped and lost myself in thought. “Good,” I finally said. “Excited to graduate?”

“
If
I graduate,” he said.

“Have they told you?”

“They’re sending the results out in the mail.”

“What? Why not just give you it?” I rolled my eyes.

“They better hurry.” I could sense the exasperation in his voice. He hadn’t even received a letter from the colleges he’d applied for. I squeezed him tight in my arms. I didn’t want to worry him or put those thoughts in his mind, I knew he’d have them already.

I stayed cuddled up to him, my arms around his stomach and my head on his chest. Of course, my place at college was conditional on graduating, but I had a letter back. Kaleb was without any reply.

Monday morning came and I waited beside the front door for the mailman Kaleb received two letters, one which I could see was from the high school, and another had the emblem of one of the colleges he’d applied to.

I woke him up with them and a coffee, pestering him to open the letters. I was strangely optimistic for someone who didn’t know what either of the letters said.

He sat up in bed and looked at them both, glancing back at me.

“Do you want me to go out?” I asked.

He shook his head and pulled me close. “Stay,” he said.

Waiting with him, I touched his hand. They were warm in mine, but I kept tight hold. He opened up the first letter, it was from California State college, and in the first line, everything he needed to know was revealed.

“We regret to inform you, your application has been unsuccessful,” he said in a puff. “Take it I failed.”

“No,” I protested, snagging the opened letter from him. “Some colleges can only accept a certain number of GED students a year.” I’d been researching it, something to give him an answer to if he didn’t get in. It wasn’t UCLA, so there was still hope we’d be going away together.

Inside the second letter, he closed his eyes and passed it to me.

“You passed!” I said, scanning the letter through.

“What? Really!” I gave it back so he could see for himself.

He didn’t want to get emotional, so I left him with the letters. I had nothing to worry about now as I walked back into my room. Although I had all my things inside, it felt empty. I threw myself on my bed beside the graduation robe.

Kaleb’s robe hung up on the back of my door, I placed mine beside it. At least he was graduating now, I hadn’t even told him about his robe.

“Need to get you one,” I said as Oreo stood at the door looking up at them, probably asking himself if he should claw at them.

Saturday, June 11
th
was graduation day – it was humid, the kind of heat that forced clothes to stick to your skin. It wasn’t any better having to wear the thick black graduation robes. Under my robe, I wore a thin white cotton dress, something airy enough to keep myself from sweating through my clothes.

I remembered being told to wear colors in the heat, never black because it absorbed heat. So the reason for wearing black robes was beyond me.

They’d set chairs out on the field and a stage for the graduation ceremony. The beauty of living in California meant there was always a good chance it would be warm enough to be outside. The smell of summer reminded me of strawberries and orange juice.

“
Good morning, Class of 2016,
” the voice called out over the PA system.

I walked into the main hall where the senior class stood around, talking to each other. I inhaled deeply as I walked in with Kaleb on my arm. My parents and Maddie went to find seats before the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Kaleb said to me.

I chuckled. “I know,” I said. “I’m being strong for you.”

“I’m being strong for
you
,” he said, nudging me.

Chat was surrounded by the posse she kept close; Dylan and Ava mainly, but some of the junior girls she was
mentoring
were fanning her. She’d really ballooned, pregnancy made her glow, or at least her new contouring palette did, because a good contour could take you from being on TEEN MOM with a sex tape to a reality TV star.

“Looks like Mila’s Valedictorian,” I said, tugging on Kaleb’s arm.

Mila stood practicing a speech on cue cards, reading them out to Heather and Kristen. I saw Delilah and Brittany close-by, they’d grown a lot closer together, it used to be the three of us, now I was
just
me, and they were the best of friends.

The principal’s aide walked around getting us all formed in an orderly line. It was alphabetical, from last name. Kaleb was before me, he was lined up beside Libby. And only a few people behind me, there was Dylan, shuffling his feet, his face, staring ahead.

Pomp and Circumstance played as we marched out of the hall onto the field. We went straight down the middle of the aisle to take our seats at either side. Right at the front.

Principal Sanders took to the stage for his speech.

“First, I’d like to welcome you all on this fine summer day,” he said. “And huge congratulations to the senior class, the class of 2016, we are so overwhelmed and overcome with the talent, already some of you have secured places at prestigious colleges, while others have placed themselves on scholarships in art, science, linguistics, and sports. We are proud to have you call Marin County High School your home.”

He went on to speak about things we’d accomplished. There was nothing about the scandal of prom night, nothing about the drugged punch bowl, mostly the awards that had been won, but of course, nobody wanted to relive the bad things that happened, least of all me.

Principal Sanders were the department heads and some of the school officials. There was a large blue and white backdrop behind them. I almost missed my cue as I paid more attention to how my hair was looking with the cap on, and how the robe fell over my shoulders. I wanted to look perfect for the photos.

“Zoey Jensen,” my name was called out, suddenly next in line to shake the Principal Sanders’ hand and receive a mock diploma in a small book secured with blue and white piece of fabric.

“Congratulations, and good luck,” he said to me as I shook his hand.

“Thank you,” I said, before being guided off stage and back into my seat.

I forced myself through the chairs to sit next to Kaleb, there was someone already beside him, and my self-importance of having the seat beside him was more important than inconveniencing everyone by moving up a seat.

“Zo,” he said, grabbing my hand. I could see him clutch a tight hold of the diploma. “Were you nervous?”

“I’ve been in cheer competitions were people poison the water with eye drops,” I said. “Of course not.”

“When you put it like that,” he laughed.

After we’d officially graduated, he invited back to the platform the Valedictorian and the Salutatorian. Mila took to the stage with Char beside her, she couldn’t have had the second highest grades.

“Welcome, Mila Dobrev and Charlotte Brooke, it’s a great honor to see you graduate today, and both with different futures in hand,” Principal Sanders said. “Round of applause for your Salutatorian who will begin.”

Char took to the stand. She fanned herself with an open palm and caressing her bump with the other. “Being home, being unable to do anything but sit down and crave food, having to rest and retire from cheer for the season has been difficult,” she began, “but I came to enjoy the time I had, of course, I wasn’t in a lot of classes, but I
had
to occupy my time, and I found myself studying, and you know what, it
really
paid off. I’ve always thought I was a good student, but having time to reflect told me unless you were being praised for your academia, you weren’t quite good enough.” She took a step back and clenched her stomach.

Principal Sanders took a step to her to see what had happened. They whispered to each other for a moment before Char nodded and took to the microphone again.

“Sorry. She’s a kicker,” Char said. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve been in competition, and if I wasn’t coming first, I was ashamed, but being named your Salutatorian here today has been a great pleasure, and I know I’ll miss
a lot
of you, but I have something more important in my life now. I have a life inside me.”

She took another step back. This time all the teachers in the back jumped up. Something happened behind the podium. I wanted to stand, but to watch Mila’s jaw drop was a picture in itself.

“Do we have a doctor in the house?” Principal Sanders called out. “It appears her water has broken.”

Her mom immediately hurled herself from the chairs and stomped to the stage. Mila fumbled through her cue cards as she stared at Char, squatting on the floor in her graduation robe.

“Did she even find out who the dad is?” I heard someone say from behind.

Kaleb turned to me. “Did she?” he laughed.

I shrugged. I knew it wasn’t Dylan, but it could’ve been anyone, as long as she had sex with them last August or September, because from the look of her squatting behind the podium with her mother shouting breathing exercisers at her, I knew she was at least full term.

I glanced at Kaleb. “It can’t be,” I said.

“What?”

“I know of
one
person she slept with early fall,” I said. “Your brother.”

He groaned hard, slapping his face with a hand. “Which one?”

“Enzo,” I said. “Ava was sleeping with Bellamy, Char with Enzo. I’m surprised you don’t remember; they were always at the bar.”

“Good luck getting child support,” he laughed.

“Bet she’s regretting not lying to Dylan,” I said. “At least he could probably pay her.”

Mila never got to make her Valedictorian speech, although I’m sure it would’ve been about self-importance and getting back at your enemies no matter what the cost—because that’s the real lesson I’d learned. She was the prom queen of nothing, and I at least had Kaleb and his tight grip on my hand.

“Your aunt wanted to give congratulations on graduating,” my dad said, hugging me as we moved to leave. “She’s jealous she couldn’t be here to watch a live birth.”

“You should’ve told her it’s like watching a cow give birth to a calf, but with more wailing,” I said.

They laughed before my mom hushed. “Don’t be mean, child birth is beautiful.”

“In private,” I said. “I think someone live streamed.”

“Sorry?” my mom asked.

“When they upload and film at the same time,” my dad explained. “Anyway, celebratory dinner, where are we going?”

Before we could go anywhere, we had to head back home to drop off the cap and gowns and mock diplomas. On the floor, walking into the house there was a letter with the UCLA stamp on the front for Kaleb, there was another stamp marking the letter urgent.

Without a second look, he tore it open and handed it to my mom.

“Dear Mr. Kaleb Delgado,” she said. She mumbled a couple words, going through the rest of the letter. “After reviewing your application, we have granted permission with exceptional circumstance and condition. We would like to welcome you to the University of California, Los Angeles for the fall semester.”

“I got in?” he asked. “I got in!”

I grabbed him and hugged him, keeping him in my arm. “I knew you could,” I said, tears in my eyes. I pulled away to see we shared the same teary-eyed look.

“You can never get rid of me now,” he said.

My mom sobbed from behind. “We’ll leave you two,” she said.

They waited in the car as we stayed inside. It was refreshing. He held the letter in his hand and read it aloud to me in full, taking deep breaths and pausing in places.

“Better late than never,” I said. “But I
knew
it would come.”

He wiped the tears, glancing at me like he didn’t think I noticed. “I never thought—I—I just,” he snorted. “You believed in me.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to thank you, Zo.”

“Being here is thanks enough,” I said.

“You saw how I was.”

I pecked him on his cheek. “I bet my make-up has all run,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “Now you have to stay with me,” I said. Mainly because I wasn’t too sure how to function on my own. I’d never really been on myself before.