Our Beating Hearts

31

AS SOON WE'RE BACK IN the limo, Jennifer whips a flask out of some secret jacket pocket. I couldn't be less surprised.

She swigs it and passes it to Niall, and I just sit there, stiff-shouldered, thinking: here's why I don't do school dances. I know exactly how tonight will play out. Everyone will get sloppy drunk, and then they'll talk about how drunk they are, and then they'll beg me to drink, too. Because it's proooom night. Because

I should just try it, just a sip. Drunk people are basically zombies. Once they're infected, they want to take you down with them. Seriously, even my friends are like that, and we're supposed to be the nerds.

Fuck that.

"Ashton?" Niall nudges the flask toward me.

I pass it straight to Luke, who then passes it straight to Michael, who passes it to Calum, and then back to Jenny, and I notice with a start that no one's actually drinking it. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this is just a Jenny thing.

As soon as the flask returns to Jennifer, she tilts her head back and chugs it. Then she makes a huge scene out of smiling at everyone except Calum. Michael catches my eye and raises his eyebrows, and I shake my head slightly. I love Jennifer to pieces, but this is cringe central. And prom hasn't even started yet.

The sun's just starting to set as we pull into the Chattahoochee Nature Center, but people are already streaming across the parking lot in groups of two and three, and ten. There's a whole line of limos parked at the curb. My side-eye is so intense, I should be walking sideways to compensate.

Of course, the first person I see is Simon Cowell-in a powder blue tux, hair gelled like a helmet.

He's walking next to Maddie, formerly of the student council and currently known as the Nutcracker-ever since she punched David Silvera in the balls for beating her in the school election. I couldn't have picked a better date for Simon if I'd tried. I'm about to snark about it to Simon, but then I spot the pavilion-and my heart catches in my throat.

Okay, yes: prom is stupid.

But everything's lit with twinkle lights, and the hanging white curtains seem to glow against the sunset.

There are giant rented speakers blasting a song I don't recognize, but it has the most perfect thudding bass, like a heartbeat. The effect is somehow otherworldly. It doesn't feel like this space could have anything to do with Creekwood High School, but Creekwood people are everywhere-on the paths, by the aviary, seated at picnic tables on the grass.

There are stairs that lead straight down to the pavilion, but I veer off onto the side path instead.

"Hey." I feel a nudge.

Of course, it's Calum, sidling up to me so closely, our arms almost touch. I feel a two-punch in my gut: flutter and yoink. I could easily grab his hand. I could lace my fingers through his.

"This is really cool," Calum says, jolting me back to earth. He's peering around, wide-eyed, taking everything in. All along the path, there are screened-in enclosures-habitats for birds of prey, mostly. He pauses in front of one. "Is this an owl? Is there an owl at our prom?"

And yup. It's an actual owl, staring unblinking and motionless as we cut down the path. As if this wasn't already the weirdest prom ever.

"Insert Harry Potter reference here," I say.

He grins. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

We end up reaching the end of the path just as Michael and Luke step off the staircase. "Fancy meeting you here," Calum says.