Prom?

Prom? [7]

I glanced at my phone’s clock and sighed. It was time for detention. I walked over to the detention room, butterflies in my stomach. In an hour I would finally find out who this mystery guy was. I walked into the classroom, signing my name on the sheet by the door.

“Lesly Spencer?” A voice called as I slid into one of the seats in the front of the room. Turning I saw Simon, the guy from my 6th period class, waving at me from a desk in the back corner of the room. Smiling, I got up and sat in the seat next to him.

“Hey Simon, what are you here for?” I asked.

“Nothing exciting. Tardiness. You?” he whispered, leaning over so we could talk quietly. There was no talking in detention.

“Inappropriate language in Mrs. Sanchez’s class,” I whispered back.

“Nice one. What happened?”

“Robert was being Robert and I only have so much tolerance for assholes.”

“That guy, I swear he makes it a personal mission to piss girls off,” Simon laughed.

“Yeah, well he succeeds. So why were you late?” I asked, curious. Simon was generally a good student and rarely ever late.

“Actually, I was helping one of my friends set up something,” he said, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher.

“Oh, what kind of something?”

“He’s asking this girl he likes to prom.”

“Aw, how sweet.”

“Yeah, he’s crazy about her. He’s known and liked her forever and is finally man-ing up and doing something about it. It’s about damn time, if you ask me,” Simon explained, giving me that look again.

“Who are these people, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I can’t tell you who my friend is, he would kill me.”

“Oh, that’s cool. Respecting his privacy, you’re a good friend.”

“Sometimes. I can tell you who the girl is though, if you want.”

“Oh, yes please. Do tell.”

“You.”

“What?”

“You,” he replied, smirking at the shock evident on my face.

“Simon, you’re in on this too?” I whispered loudly. Apparently the whisper was louder than I thought because the teacher running detention looked up at us. He gave us a stern look before turning back to his car magazine.

“Wow Les, you’re just getting into all kinds of trouble today,” Simon laughed quietly.

“Shut up, I was surprised. I didn’t know everyone and their mother was involved with these clues,” I whispered harshly.

“Well of course he has a ton of people helping. He really likes you. He’s going all out with this,” he smiled at me, before sliding a piece of paper over to me. “He will be waiting for you after detention.”

“Simon-” I was cut off by the dark shadow of the teacher standing over our desks.

“Seeing as how you two can’t remain silent, I’m separating you. Miss, would you please move to the front of the room?” the teacher said, a look of disapproval written clearly on his face.

“Yes, sir. Sorry,” I apologized, gathering up my bag and the paper Simon had given me. Once seated, I read over the paper.

If you don’t feel the same way about me I understand,

but I don’t want to lose you.

I have agonized over the decision of whether the risk of losing you

is worth the hope that you feel the same.

It is.

I cast a quick glance back at Simon. He was smirking at me and motioning to the door. Confused, I turned around, looking for what he wanted me to see. Then it hit me, there was a clock above the door. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Only ten more minutes.