say something. [ COMPLETE ]

recording ten - thursday - week six

senior prom is in a few weeks. the school is gearing up; there’s already posters for it and flyers and ballots. i haven’t gotten a hold of any of the ballots, but i’m pretty sure if you were still around, your name would be on the top of the prom king list. everybody knew you, ethan, despite what you thought.

dia’s really excited, considering she already got herself a date. actually she got more than a date. she got a boyfriend, one we all approve of—you’d probably approve of him too.

she’s dating derek raul—you know, that really sweet, polite dude that was on your soccer team? you were good friends with him, and i met him a couple of times, too.

i’m proud of her, she definitely deserves better than her last guy. you’d probably be proud of her too. you’d give her this long-lasting hug and then do that signature fist-bump thing you always did with her.

i gave her a long hug for you. she laughed and then told me she had to go—later i saw her holding hands with derek, both of them looking into each other’s eyes with this aura that screamed ‘we are never letting each other go’.

they’re the lucky ones, aren’t they.

vinny and nate got their prom dates as well; vinny’s going with ashley lin and nate’s going with karla madison (i know, unfortunately. but i think karla’s just going with nate to make her “best friend”, our very own queen bitch, alleyn horston, jealous).

patrick doesn’t seem invested in any school activities. in fact, he’s a c student now. can you believe that? our patrick joaquin heinz, honor roll, straight-A student, now just an average chip off the old block.

the only way we can tell he’s alive is when he plays soccer. he moves like a hungry tiger on the field.

i don’t think patrick’s going to prom, and the same goes for me. i don’t want to go to prom either. i mean, i know it’s one night, and one night only—you always said it was going to be the best night of our lives, i’m sorry you never got to experience it—but what’s so fucking special about a dumb dance?

and what’s the point of going, ethan, if you’re not there. if you’re not there to twirl me around, if you’re not there to slow-dance with, if you’re not there to throw confetti from the table bowls into everybody’s face? what am i supposed to do if your favorite song comes on and you’re not there, belting the lyrics out in your awful, yet memorable singing voice?

what am i supposed to do, in some three-hundred dollar, sparkly, strapless dress without you telling me i look beautiful?

i don’t want to just stand there alone while all our other friends are having the time of their lives with their significant others.

so, ethan, i am not going.

not without you.