❝YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER.
you care so much about what other
people think that you never have
any fun for yourself. tell me, willa,
do you want to tell your children about
how you spent prom night
wallowing in your sadnes...
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Peering through the blinds, her brown eyes popped open when she recognized the figure crouched on the tree branch as Micky.
Throwing her window open, she gave him a frantic look. "Get out of that tree. You're going to fall and kill yourself!"
"Nice to see you again as well, Wil." he chuckled before reaching his hand out to her. "So, you coming?"
"Where?"
"France." Micky sarcastically offered, before turning serious. "The prom, darlin'."
Willa cast a look back at her door. She knew deep in her heart of hearts that he parents, namely her father, would be disappointed and angry if she left the house.
She turned back to her friend. "I don't know, Mick."
He frowned and returned his hand back to his side.
"You're just like your father. You care so much about what other people think that you never have any fun for yourself. Tell me, Willa, do you want to tell your children about how you spent prom night wallowing in your sadness?"
She shook her head, her chestnut curls bouncing as she did so.
"Well, then why don't you and me go and turn that prom upside down? Imagine all the looks we'll get: the princess and the greaser. It sounds like a bad movie at the drive in." he then laughed at his own joke.
For a self-proclaimed 'bad boy,' he was a bit of a dork. She began to laugh along nervously before chewing on her lower lip.
He was right. As much as she complained about her father being concerned with reputations, so was she.
Unlike her father, however, she was young enough to change her ways. Throwing caution out the window, she defiantly held out her hand.
Not really expecting her to do that, Micky's hazel eyes popped open.
For once, he was speechless, leaving Willa to be the one to do the talking.
"Let's go."
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