It's almost the end of the week, and you're finally ready to escape this whirlwind of a week you had. Three invites to Homecoming? How was it possible that you had three Homecoming invites? You couldn't stop simply marveling in agony at that fact. You just wanted to forget all about it and slink into sleep until the end of the school year, but it was hard when HOCO decorations covered about every inch of the school. Blue and white spirit wear had been burned into your retinas.
You're wandering the halls during your off period when you notice something along the wall that doesn't look Homecoming related. You take a closer look at it and realize that it's for the school theatre production. You gasp, remembering that you'd agreed to go to Emmanuel's production today. As if you needed anything more on your plate.
Then again, maybe seeing a theatre production would be the reprieve you needed after all that had happened. And he did say he had a surprise for you. Maybe it would finally brighten the wackadoodle week you had.
The next day, you bring an assortment of formal clothes, since Emmanuel did encourage you to dress nice, and plan to change afterschool.
During Yearbook, you're finally getting into fully editing everything. You'll still have to ask JFK to proofread it all afterwards, though. But next week was Homecoming, and you'd made it all on time. You were concerned for Homecoming for more reasons than the interviews, but you could take care of that later.
At the end of the day, you change in the restroom into your outfit. As you leave, Lincoln sidles up to you in a bright smile, and he also happens to be wearing a tan trench coat.
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Change of style?"
He shrugs. "I dunno. I'm trying to adapt to new trends. Maybe this isn't me." He snaps his fingers, and white dress appears on his frame. He scowls. "And what is this?"
You laugh. "It suits you."
"I suppose it does enhance my masculinity. Ah, speaking of suits." He snaps his fingers again and is now wearing a white suit. He groans. "Why? Why must they make me wear light colors that don't flatter my complexion? Maybe this is a clue. Maybe this is hope I might get to heaven."
"Just put something on, Lincoln."
"Alright, alright." He changes into a Supreme shirt, ripped jeans, and a black puffer jacket. He grins. "Perfect."
"...Okay."
"But anyway, I imagine you had a miserable afternoon without me yesterday?"
You avoid his gaze. "Uh, something like that."
"Pray tell, what did you do to tide yourself over?"
You mutter some unintelligible words, and Lincoln smirks at you. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."
You sigh. "Basically, I met up with Bernie to do the interview, we had to run from security, and he... asked me out to Homecoming."
He chuckles. "How quaint! I still can't comprehend how anyone would settle for such a mediocre human being. When I found my bitch, I knew she was the one from the very beginning! It won't be that difficult to decide. It's very similar to the girl boss to Raytheon pipeline."
"Okay..." You're just going to ignore that, because you have a theatre production to view. You continue down the halls as others make their way to the theatre.
Most of the bottom row seats are full, so you climb the stairs into the top viewing area. Lincoln sits next to you, despondency in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" you ask.
YOU ARE READING
Diplomat High
הומורLooks like you're a new student at Diplomat High, y/n. To be able to graduate, you're placed on the Yearbook team, meaning you're tasked with talking to and interviewing several future political leaders, along with helping them with their misfortun...