The Worst Prom Date Ever

24 • The Worst Revelation Ever

BEAU • [7:19 p.m.]

"What's this all about, Callista?" She was putting me in a hot seat right now—but why tonight? 

Why, of all the time and place in the world, did she have to take this out on prom night—and with Piper around? 

I looked at Piper, who seemed like she was keeping something from me, and she was just too hesitant to speak up. What could it be?

"Oh, for the love of god, who glued your mouth shut?" Callista rolled her eyes and dragged a sigh. "Beau, let's just drop the act, okay? We know your little deal with Piper's brother; about taking her to prom against your will in exchange for cash."

Holy.

Shit.

Was Callista serious?

Piper knew all along?

I swallowed deeply. My chest began to feel heavy and my palms were starting to sweat. I looked at Callista as she smirked and continued to shamelessly guilt-trip me in front of Piper, who was standing rooted to her spot. She had her head down low and wasn't moving an inch.

Callista continued her incessant talk. "I already had the initiative to tell this redhead, so I have no idea why she's still here with you at prom. You know this is all a joke, right—"

"Stop it, Callista," I raised my voice, cutting her off before things blow out of proportion. "You're making things worse—"

"No, she's right, Beau. This is all a joke. I don't know why I even decided to ride along with it."

When Piper finally spoke, it made Callista and I toned down a bit. What she said almost hit every single nerve in my body, as I didn't know how to properly react to what she just said. In my mind, I kept on mentally shaking my head no, this is not a joke.

This night was really meant for her—I had it all planned out. From the corsage all the way down to the prom dance. This was a good time for me to rekindle whatever was left of our friendship, and unfortunately it all boiled down to this unnecessary drama.

My eyes trailed towards Piper, who appeared just as embarrassed as I was. "Piper, you don't understand, I have to tell you something—"

"Enough, Beau. Can we just go inside now?" Callista crossed her arms and was tapping her feet impatiently.

Piper silently nodded to me. "You should go ahead."

"And where will you go? I can't leave you here!" We were in Flinnway and the only ride she had was with me. If she was going to dumbly decide to walk home again like what she planned the last time she went here when she was wearing a onesie, then I will not let that happen.

I grabbed her hand but she quickly let it go and took a step back. I saw her glanced at Callista and then immediately back at me, her worrying eyes meeting mine.

"I'll follow, don't worry," she softly said.

I held her hand once again, firmer this time, and whispered something to her ear. "But you're my date."

"I'll follow. I uh, just have to text Abby." She slowly released her hand from mine, and gestured me to Callista, who was sending the both of us a death glare.

God, was Piper stubborn.

Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I cursed silently and forced myself to follow Callista inside the hotel. Piper turned around and took her phone out from the pocket of her dress, and began punching the buttons.

I snapped my head back to Callista when she tightly snaked her arm into mine.

"Let's go!" she said, grinning, as if she didn't tell me the worst revelation ever, which, after that, had officially made me become the World's Greatest Douche Bag.

As we walked together towards the hotel's entrance, I was feeling this sense of disappointment for giving Callista the satisfaction that she has wanted.

  — — —

[7:40 p.m.]

Prom was supposed to be a night of fun, right? Especially to us seniors, this would be our last, so we had to make it as memorable as possible. When Callista and I both stepped inside the banquet hall, I gave Callista a pat in the back. She did a pretty damn good job at being the head of prom committee.

I breathed a sigh of relief that the color motifs were changed, and I wasn't actually informed that the theme would be Hartsmith in Hollywood, and everything just screamed "red carpet" and "glamour" and "bright lights" and "pretentious".

Callista pulled it off nicely, and I was proud of her, but right now, this didn't matter to me. What mattered to me was the annoying fact that twenty minutes had already passed, and Piper was nowhere to be found.

Even though we already took countless of pictures, mingled with a number of people and eventually learned that I was nominated for Prom King, I still didn't see any Auburn-haired girl in a sunny dress emerging from the hotel entrance.

Sure, the night was already beginning, but still made me feel...incomplete.

"Bro!" hollered Lucas and ran up to me. He was sporting a top hat, white gloves plus a cane, looking like he was channeling his inner Fred Astaire—even though he had no clue when it came to performing. Still, girls inside the hall found his outfit quite attractive.

"I thought you're going to take Piper? Where is she?" Lucas asked me.

I negatively shook my head. "Dude, she really is my date, until Callista over there ruined the whole thing. I had no idea how she knew about my deal with Pascal, but Cal snitched me and now Piper's missing in action."

Lucas annoyingly let out a theatrical gasp. "Damn! You have a lot of explaining to do, dude, not only to Piper, but to Cal as well."

I nodded in agreement. I told Lucas that I would be catching up with him later, as I have to look for Callista first.

Minutes after searching for her, I saw her busy talking to Gigi. When Gigi went away, I tapped Callista's back, who was in a good mood. "Sorry Cal, I have to get back to Piper."

"Oh come on, the program's already starting!" whined Callista, whose former smile suddenly turned into this disgruntled expression, contradicting her pink and perky get-up.

I mouthed a "Sorry," at her and jogged outside the banquet hall and towards the hotel's main entrance. I gave a quick nod to the doorman and headed outside, searching left and right to see if Piper was in sight.

She was not.

Damn it.

Minutes later, I fished my phone inside my pocket as I felt it vibrating. Swiping it right, I read a text from none other than her.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I raked my hand across my then-tousled hair out of sheer irritation and guilt. Her text was utter bull. Who was she kidding? She was obviously not okay. I bet she was already crying her heart out to Abby, saying what a fool she had become and what a bad friend I was.

I rubbed my temples at the thought. This was such a disaster. Once, again, Beau Grayson Huntley, you have ultimately justified yourself as being the World's Greatest Douche Bag.