Sandcastles

Chapter Twenty-One

Basically John Tyler's (Evan Peters) smile aw

The days have slowly started getting warmer. And when I say slowly, I mean it's gotten like five degrees warmer over the past week. But according to Madeline, it's "perfect prom weather", whatever that means. So far, nothing seems perfect about prom except the fact that Ben actually has a date. But that's also a bad thing. Ben has a date, and me, well, I'm just sitting around waiting.

Most people would think by now that Alexander would surely ask me to prom. The prom is Saturday night, and it's Wednesday. If he's planning on asking at all, he should do it soon before I have to buy all of the stuff at the last minute. Madeline has already bought a gorgeous dress, and Ben has scheduled to get a tux tailored.

I wouldn't say I'm necessarily mad, just a little upset maybe? I wouldn't think Alexander would want to miss his junior prom, and I wouldn't think he would ask anyone except me. We're basically a couple, right?

All these thoughts are running through my head that I miss our bell. I'm brought back into reality whenever Troy taps my arm. I snap my head up, my face turning red. I get my books and follow him out of the drama room.

"Something wrong?" he asks just as we walk into the poster-covered hall. I look at him slightly, seeing that a frown has spread across his face. I nervously shake my head and walk down to my locker. He follows me, keeping his books with him.

I slam the door and walk out into the courtyard. The air has absolutely no humidity at this time of year, so walking outside is a blessing. I sit on the same bench beside Troy. It feels good to actually be able to hold a sort of non-awkward conversation with him again.

"You're stressing about prom, aren't you?" he asks me. I sigh and lightly nod my head. He chuckles, a grin now widening on his face. He nudges me with his elbow. "Then I would definitely accept Alex's invite to the beach tonight."

I raise my eyebrows at him and we both laugh. If Alexander does ask me to go to the beach tonight so he can ask me to prom, then I'm obviously going to say yes. This barely eases my nerves and I just tap my fingers on the stone bench.

Alexander is throwing the football with the same guy, as he usually does. We make eye contact for a second and he smiles at me before turning to launch the ball back.

I stay consumed in my thoughts for several minutes before the bell rings again. I nearly run to my locker, removing my science book and walking towards the lab. The familiar smell of formaldehyde and various other chemicals from the previous chemistry class nearly burns my nostrils when I walk in. It's strong enough to make a person gag, but I get used to it and sit on the stool behind a metal table. Troy walks in as well, taking the chair beside me.

When everyone comes into the room and settles down, our teacher stands and uncaps a marker. He's a tall, thin man who always seems to have a thick layer of stubble on his face. He writes one word on the dry-erase board in thick, bold black marker.

Worms.

I groan when I remember that we were supposed to dissect a freaking worm today. A worm. A slimy, pink freaking dead earthworm. It's a good thing that we have to do this with our partner; maybe I can just get Troy to do all the work.

The teacher comes by, handing us a dissection tray with the formaldehyde soaked worm on it. Troy grimaces slightly before setting the tray between us. We both have to put on rubber gloves, just like the ones doctors use. He then lightly pins the stupid thing down and hands me a scalpel. I raise my eyebrows at him.