Prom Queen ⚢ [EDITING]

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"god save the prom queen
teenage daydream"

It was only February and prom had already started to consume Riverview High School.

Grand promposals were scattered around the school every twenty minutes and guys and girls were being rejected and accepted all around. Desperate teens were posting their best selfies all over social media and plastering their faces on the school walls in hopes of being nominated for prom royalty, despite prom being two months away.

It was ridiculous.

Prom was a social construct—if even that. It was a popularity contest meant for pretty girls to feel powerful and normal people to feel dejected. No matter the results, it was always a win-lose scenario.

So when my long-term boyfriend decided to flail his fully decorated promposal poster in my face at the pep assembly, I couldn't help but turn him down.

I knew it was a bitch move—that wasn't the point. The point was that he knew how much I hated prom and everything involved in it, and he still went out of his way to ask me in front of the entire school. The whole school. Nobody even knew who I was, minus the few people I consistently spoke to. The only reason people knew my name was because Graham was a star basketball player who was exceedingly attractive. Girls were always all over him and guys were always asking him how they could reach his level. All of that high school popularity stuff was beyond stupid.

"Cam, are you serious?" He met up with me when the assembly ended and everyone was off to their cars to get home. He pulled my shoulder to stop me from walking and I was forced to turn around and look at him.

"You know I hate things like that," I reminded him, in case he had forgotten in the two years we'd been together.

"You couldn't have just said yes to save me the embarrassment?"

"I would have said yes." I crossed my arms. "If you wanted to ask me in private. Not in front of the entire student body!"

He ran his hands through his hair as more students filed out of the gym, locking their gaze on us. He started to calm himself down, closing his eyes and huffing out air every few seconds. I could see the veins in his neck, which was rare for him. He was genuinely upset.

"I'm sorry," I told him. My chest began to feel dull as the pain from his reaction settled in. His eyes opened for a moment to look at me.

"I overreacted," I admitted. "I've just been caught up in the whole I just want to graduate and get out thing and I guess I just didn't like the attention." A small brush of air pushed through his nose.