Project Fuckboy || a.i

Chapter 18// Promposals

[Four months later]

"Azalea, your date is here," my mother says happily, shrieking. She gets out her camera and starts snapping photos of me hitch up the annoying train of my dress she forced me into and come down the stairs. Violet looks at me enviously. Her prom isn't until next year, and even if Sean had asked, neither of them were seniors.

"Who are you going with?" Violet whispers in my ear as I walk past her to pose for a forced photo for my mom.

"Is it Ashton? Who?!!" She hisses through her teeth, a little louder. She beams a fake smile at my mother when she glances at the two of us.

"You'll see." I glare at my little sister. She looks down with a disappointed sigh.

We both look out the window at the shiny car parked outside, and the tall tuxedo'd boy on my porch. His hand reaches out to ring the bell.

The rich sound rings through the house, and my mom squeals, clapping her hands together.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and then I open the door.

Azalea's POV [Present]

I wake up as an entirely different person. Something changed in me last night. I'd grown harder, more calloused. I don't feel like myself anymore. I noticed the change when Violet gave me an uneasy look as I walked out without a second glance at her.

And I'm starting to think I might've imagined the episode with Ashton, too. What he said last night meant nothing. Okay, maybe not. He might've been drunk, maybe. Whatever he was, he didn't mean it.

But I can't think about that right now. It's not as important to me.

After last night, after I watched the boy I love kiss my best friend, nothing is important anymore.

...
Calum doesn't look at me when I get seated behind him in class, but Ashton does. His seat is behind mine, and I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, the unanswered questions buzzing in his mind.

I have a million unanswered questions in my head, as well. I can't focus on what the teacher is saying, not even a little. There's just one angry thought that constantly buzzes around in my head. That I need to talk to Michael.

He can't have done this to me. There must've been a mistake. He's not gay. He's not like Calum. He said he loved me in that hospital bed.

Maybe he's just experimenting, I think stupidly.

And then the one question that I couldn't shake as much as I tried:

was he in love with him?

But how was I supposed to talk to him today? I haven't seen Michael all morning, and I had no idea where he was. I'm guessing he's off on one of his secretive adventures again.

As if to distract my mind from the pesky thoughts, I find myself tapping on Calum's shoulder.

He turns around reluctantly, his brown eyes wavering.

"Where is he?" I ask him, and he stares at me in surprise.

"Who?" He asks quietly.

"Michael. Are you deaf?" I retort.

"I don't know, he's gone again," Calum says, not looking me in the eyes.

"And?"