We Could Be Dreamers

14

Prom is slowly starting to take over my life. 

It seems like this really is a big deal for some people. There's talk of limousines and after-parties floating through the hallways. Tyler keeps trying to convince me to 'go stag' with him. Because apparently that's a cool way of saying "my girlfriend dumped me since she found out I was asking freshman girls for nudes and now I'm going to pretend that I like going to prom all by myself." 

Yeah, Tyler's actual and literal human scum. 

More and more of my lunches are spent in the English classroom with Brooke and Jason. I feel bad each time I text Sam to tell her I won't be at McDonald's or Tim Horton's or that one bench in  the park for lunch. Eventually I see her in the hallways splitting off to hang out with other friends, so I stop texting her to let her know lunch is off. She seems to be pretty okay with it. 

And then one day, somehow, I find myself smack dab in the middle of all this prom madness. 

Dress shopping. 

The moment I set foot in the mall, I feel glaringly out of place. Along with Brooke and Jason, there are a couple other girls that I sort of recognize. They seem to be friends with Brooke and they excel at ignoring my presence completely. 

The girls weave in and out of shops, looking at shoes and dresses and jewelry and who knows what else. I'm completely out of my element. And judging by the slightly confused expression on Jason's face, he is too. 

We end up just kind of clumped together at the back. Our jobs seem to consist of complimenting the others and making some bullshit kind of observatory comment so it seems like we know what the fuck's going on here. 

Jason and I hover near the back of a polished, brightly-lit clothing store. After he makes some kind of comment about how that hemline is absolutely perfect for her and the girl blushes and walks away excitedly, I can't help but laugh. 

Jason catches my eye, grinning. "What?" He asks.

I stuff my hands in my pockets. My palms are awful sweaty all of a sudden. "Do you even know what any of this means?" 

"Oh, not at all," he replies. "Seems like I said the right thing, though." He juts his chin towards the girl, who's studying herself intently in a mirror. 

"Yeah," I reply, not quite sure what else to say.

Jason looks at me carefully, and I can't shake the feeling that he's... assessing me, somehow. I swallow nervously, and suddenly I can't quite meet his gaze without my cheeks flushing. 

"You like her, don't you," Jason says after a moment or two of silence. 

My eyes widen. "I—um—who?"

He offers me an easy smile, though his expression is restless. "Brooke," he says. "You like her." 

Why the fuck is my heart pounding like that? 

I purse my lips and stare at the ground. "I... yeah," I reply uncertainly. "Yeah, I do." 

"Oh." He leans back a little. "Yeah, I kind of figured. You are not good at hiding it." 

"Hey!" I protest with a laugh, and somehow my blush deepens. The laugh dies quickly. "Is it really that obvious?" 

Jason nods, eyes twinkling. "Oh, yeah. You aren't subtle in the slightest." 

And he's right. He's absolutely right. But at the same time, did he really have to point it out?

I sigh, but I'm still smiling. "Well, that's great to know."

"So are you going to ask her?" Jason asks. "Like, to prom?"

I bite my lip, glancing up at him. "Yeah," I reply. "I think so." 

"You should do it quickly," he advises. "Before someone else asks her."

I tense up. "You think someone else is gonna ask her?"

He shrugs. "She's pretty. And nice. And she's a girl. So yeah, I'd hurry up if I were you." 

"Okay," I nod. "Yeah. I will. I will... ask Brooke to prom." And it feels weird saying that out loud to someone who's not Sam. "That doesn't—that doesn't bother you, does it?" I ask tentatively.

Jason tilts his head. "Why would it bother me?" 

"I. Um. I don't know." And if there was a god somewhere out there, they'd kill me right now, I think. 

Jason glances over towards Brooke, and I follow his gaze. She's wearing a short, flouncy azure dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline that makes her look like a princess. I smile softly, watching her twirl in front of the mirror before talking animatedly with her friends. 

"I think you'd be cute," Jason assures me. 

"Really?" I ask, grinning. That's a relief, at least. "Thank you. So much." 

"No problem," he replies, and he reminds me so much of Sam in that moment. 

From across the room Brooke catches my eye. She smiles excitedly and gestures at her dress. I chuckle a little and nod encouragingly. 

It seems like there's a chance that this could actually work out.

And for the first time in this whole mess, I'm actually excited for prom.