a book of shots | tbn one shot collection

VIOLET | PT.3

Side note: This was 24 pages in docs.

Brace yourselves.

"So, anyone been thinking about prom?"

"It's four weeks away and all that anyone talks about anymore, nitwit," Lane snapped in irritation. "Yes, it's come up a time or two."

Jack ignored her. "I'm gonna ask Kath."

"Surprise, surprise," Lane muttered as everyone else cheered for the boy, stabbing her spaghetti. Unfortunately, the noodles seemed to be experts at dodging the wrathful spikes.

"I've already asked Dipper," Albert mentioned nonchalantly. "She said yes."

Abby nodded, confirming this. She'd started sitting with them sometime during the second semester, though she never really talked. Lane appreciated that.

"We all knew ya had it in you, Red," Race cheered, causing Albert's ears to flare up as he glared at the boy.

"It's no secret that Romeo will be going with Amy," said Jojo, jutting his chin at the couple sitting at the next table over. "And Specs..."

Specs panted and he and Finch arm wrestled. "To be determined."

"What about you, Lane?" Crutchie questioned. "Has Finch asked you yet?"

"I'm not going," Lane responded curtly.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to turn towards her. Finch paused in the middle of his game with Specs, letting the boy push his arm down, although there was almost nothing to it. Even his opponent had been thrown off guard.

"I'm not going," Lane repeated, now defensive, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "It's not my thing."

In truth, she secretly wanted nothing more than to go. She couldn't, though. Her brothers would no doubt do whatever it took to keep her far away from the prom, and it wasn't like she had the money for a dress, anyway. She couldn't ever imagine herself wearing something so nice.

"Oh," Crutchie replied hesitantly, quickly turning back to his conversation with Jojo.

"You're really not going?" Finch questioned in a hushed voice so that no one would intrude on their conversation. "I just... I thought we would go together."

"I'm not a senior," she replied. "I don't have any obligations to go."

Finch sighed, looking down. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't. I was really looking forward to going with you."

"I know," Lane said after a moment, sick with shame. "It's just not something I would enjoy. I won't stop you from going with someone else, if that's what you want."

"It's not," he said mournfully, before turning away and stabbing his own spaghetti with his fork.

She, too, turned back to her food, even though she no longer had an appetite.

They spent the rest of the lunch period in silence.

Lane let out a surprised shriek as a hand suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the janitor's closet. The door shut, and Lane coughed at the strong smell of chemicals. She had to blink several times before Finch came into focus.

"Finch!" she exclaimed, "this really isn't the best time–I'm gonna be late!"

Finch shushed her, and she shushed him back mockingly as he looked towards the door which sealed them away from the prying eyes of other high schoolers. "I wanted to talk."

"Well, I'd be a little concerned if you had any other intentions," Lane grumbled, crossing her arms. "What?"

Finch was silent for a moment. "You have a lot of rage for someone who's so short."