Our Beating Hearts

12

SO, PROM FEVER IS A thing.

Literally, all Michael wants to do now is watch the promposal video, over and over. He even texted it to his mom. And Calum and Jennifer are back to their obnoxiously happy normal, holding hands in English class and discussing corsages over lunch. It's like a looming apocalypse, but with formal wear.

And then there's Niall, who keeps watching me with this weird, twinkly expression. I catch Michael at his locker on Thursday and make him tell it to me straight. "Is Niall going to prompose to me?"

"Um," says Michael.

"Please tell me he's not planning something public."

God, I'll die. I just can't. It's not like I have issues with Niall. Honestly, I wouldn't even mind going to prom with him. But public promposals are my actual worst nightmare. This stuff is awkward enough without the audience. "Seriously, I need to know."

"Well . . ." Michael bites his lip.

"Got it." I grimace. "So, like . . . when is this happening?"

"Lunch," he says. "Um. Do you want me to . . ."

I pat him on the shoulder. "I'll handle it."

Since Niall is going to ask me to prom, and I'm going to have to come out soon, I texted the group chat.

I mean, yeah. I'll go to prom with Niall. I don't care. We'll go as friends. As buds. As bros. It will be fun. We'll take some god-awful staircase pictures, and hopefully, I won't stab him with a corsage pin.

Accidentally, probably.

I find him camped out in the library. "Hey, can we talk?"

He peers up at me in surprise. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Privately." He follows me over to the magazine racks, and I don't even hesitate. "Okay, here's the thing. I know what you're planning."

His eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

"Listen. I'll go to prom with you, okay?"

His jaw drops.

I blush. "If you want. I mean. We don't-"

"Yeah-Irwin. Yeah, I want to," he says slowly. "Let's-but, uh, you're kind of stealing my thunder here."

"Yes." I roll my eyes. "That's kind of the point."

"You don't want my thunder?"

"Literally not even a little bit."

"But." He rubs his forehead, face breaking into a smile. "You'll go to prom with me? For real?"

"Sure."

"Dude." He beams. Then he wraps me in a bear hug, and it's actually sort of sweet. This kid. This blue-eyed boy calls me by my last name and never shuts up. My prom date. That actually happened. I just asked a boy out. Or he asked me. I guess we asked each other.

Anyway, it's done, and I did it, and I guess I'm going to prom. With a date. I'm an actual high school cliché. A piece of me feels like I should announce this. In fact, people do announce this shit on the creeksecrets Tumblr. There's even a list of prom couples, kept up to date in the notes section. I guess it's to save people from those excruciating Harry-asking-Cho-to-the-Yule-Ball situations. Though, let's be real: if Katie Leung sweetly rejecting Daniel Radcliffe in a Scottish accent wasn't your sexual awakening,

I don't even want to know you.

I just wish I knew how to feel about Niall. This shouldn't be so complicated. It has to be easier for people with penises. Does this person get you hard? Yes? Done. I used to think boners literally pointed in the direction of the person you're attracted to, like a compass. That would be helpful. Mortifying as fuck, but at least it would clarify things.