The Worst Prom Date Ever

19 • The Worst Promposal Ever

BEAU • [6:03 p.m.]

"So what's your favorite color?" Callista asked as she slid to the passenger seat and pecked my cheek.

"Blue, why?"

"Blue and Strawberry Pink it is then," she said, writing on her clipboard. I started the engine and drove off from the student parking lot. As soon as we were already on the road, I asked her what it was all about.

"It's gonna be the color motif for prom, duh! I'm the head of the prom committee, remember?"

I snorted, seemingly annoyed. Callista was making it all about us again, not considering the rest. 

"So it has to be our favorite colors? Why can't you just discuss it with your committee members?"

"Why? They'll listen to me no matter what. I'm the head." She continued to write on her clipboard, ticking off what something to me looked like a checklist.

She whipped her head to me and I saw Callista with an arched brow from my periphery. She must have noticed my displeased attitude, as I heard her slam her pen at her lap. She hated it when people talk to her like they were not interested at her.

"God Beau, what's been bugging you lately?"

"Piper," I answered flatly.

Callista rolled her eyes and sighed, picking up her pen and started to write down something again. "Tell me about it. She should just really just disappear on the face of the earth."

I squeezed my hand at the steering wheel. "Don't say that."

"Why?"

"Because she almost did."

I narrated to Callista at what happened to Piper in the pool awhile ago. I couldn't wrap my idea around the whole incident—why did she go to the deep end of the pool in the first place? She freakin' hated the water, so someone must have compelled her to go there.

After I finished telling her the story, Callista's mouth was gaped open. "I couldn't believe it."

I shook my head, agreeing with her. "Me either."

"That poor girl can't swim?" she asked in disbelief.

Okay so that wasn't the response I was expecting. "The pool was seven feet deep, Callista. She also has a cast on her foot. What do you expect?"

Her eyebrows perched up. "I expect that she could swim," she said. She exhaled and shook her head. "Anyway, so what theme would you like? I'm thinking of going Masquerade Ball—"

"Callista, not now."

She huffed, slamming her pen on her clipboard once again. She looked at me with widened eyes. "What's your deal, Beau? You're acting very strange."

I just mentioned that Piper almost died and she acted like she doesn't give a single crap about it. It was clear to me that she was evading Piper as a topic, but I just couldn't. Callista doesn't like talking about Piper, like she'll vomit if I uttered her name again.

"Why are we even talking about her? What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, show a little sympathy?" I suggested.

Callista scoffed as she flipped her hair. "But she's not my friend. Is she your friend? You don't even like her."

"I do like her—as a friend—and I'm planning to take her to prom." I bit my lip. I was aware of what my mouth has just spilled, and I was way more aware that Callista won't take my statement lightly.