𝑾𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 ➸𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕 ꟾ𝟏ꟾ

Formal

I

"Are you ready?"

Allison lifts the sun visor mirror, a distant expression on her face before turning to me with a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ready. What, did I smudge my lipstick?"

"No, no, you look perfect. It's just— is everything okay?"

Her brows furrow, ready to lie, before she relaxes. "I— I don't know. I just wanna feel normal tonight."

"Well, I can't guarantee that I was the best choice if you wanted normal, but I'll give it my best shot." I try to cut the tension but she doesn't laugh or even roll her eyes at me, just stares at herself in the mirror.

"Hey, I know a few weeks ago you couldn't imagine that you'd be sitting outside of the Formal with me in my aunt's stuffy car but tonight, we're going to forget about everything going on in our lives and have fun. So, how about we go in there and dance to awful music and try to avoid the spiked punch, and when you're ready, we can talk about whatever it is that's bothering you."

Her honey eyes meet mine and my lips curl into a smile, not a practiced one that I'd learned to form over the past few months, but an involuntary one that I'm sure looks lopsided and unnatural but I don't care. All I can think about is making sure I keep to my word and I'm not even sure I can until she replies with a simple, "Okay."

Suddenly, I let out a breath that I feel like I've been holding for longer than I can remember, shedding my skin and for once, I believe that I can forget for one night before having to grow it back tomorrow.

Stiles's jeep pulls into the parking space in front of us, forcing me back to the world as I climb out of the car and hurry to open the door for Allison before moving toward them.

"Hey, Wes." He greets me with a big grin, one that Lydia did not share.

"Hey, nice suit."

"Thanks, it—"

"Jackson, you look handsome." Lydia blurts out as he appears at my left, reeking of vodka.

"Obviously. It's Hugo Boss." He says with a smug smirk and walks away with his date, who I recognize as one of the girls from Lydia's clique.

"Uh, we'll see you inside," I say as her face drops. I offer my arm to Allison and lead her to the entrance.

As soon as my legs cross the threshold, I'm overwhelmed by the number of people crowded together. Each and every glance that even remotely aims in my direction activates the spotlight effect sending a million ominous thoughts clawing to be heard.

"Hey, um, I should get us some drinks. Why don't you sit over there." I suggest, motioning to one of the round tables.

"Oh, uh, sure. That sounds good."

I head to the punch bowl and begin pouring two cups full before chugging both. I don't know if the absence of alcohol in the concoction is a good thing anymore.

I thought I'd be able to give her a night to remember, but all the confidence I had in the car had evaporated. Who was I kidding? I can't give her what she wants. Not the way Scott did. Hell, not even the way Jackson did. I can't do this.

"You can do this," Sarah's voice echoes in my head.

What am I saying? I haven't even tried, it's been ten minutes and I've already given up. Is that what I do now? Constantly wallow in my own self-pity? I have to stop being scared of living. I didn't survive that night just to become a fly on the wall.

I turn around to find Allison as she sits on the other side of the gym, awkwardly playing with her bracelet. With a shallow breath, I make my way to her.