His response to her question was to raise both of his hands in the air, forefinger and pinkie up as his thumb held down the others and bang his head like he was at a rock concert. "The one! The only!"
"Are you sure?"
He looked so offended by the comment she felt the need to add, "It's a valid question. I don't know why the golden boy of our school would hang out in the bleachers during his crowning moment. Isn't this the type of stuff guys like you live for?"
"Guys like me?" he asked rhetorically. A long pause, then he muttered, "Could you make me sound any more pretentious?"
Her eyebrows pushed together as she thought of how her words might have sounded. "I didn't mean to offend. It's just I don't understand why you're out here hiding."
"I am not hiding!"
She gave a small snort. "Right. You must be lying down by yourself in the bleachers for the lovely atmosphere."
"I was....was watching the stars! Yeah—watching the stars."
"You're not a very good liar are you?"
"Hey!" he barked, insulted by her comment. "I was here first. I don't need to explain anything to you." He put his nose in the air and puffed out his chest, pressing a hand to it. "Besides, I'm your king. You shouldn't question anything I say."
"Is that right?" she murmured evenly. She had a feeling Zach Brewer was either bloated by ego or alcohol.
"Yes!" He was really starting to get into it now. He even waved his arm around like he had a golden scepter in his hand. "By this staff I rule all! In fact, I order you to get me a drink, peasant."
She was wrong. Clearly, his insanity was a mixture of both. "No," she told him.
"You dare defy your king?" The outrage in his voice was so real, so hilarious Madison turned into her arm to muffle her laugh. "I heard that! Off with your head!"
"I think someone's taken one too many tackles," she replied once she regained her composure.
"You're probably right." He let out a long sigh and flopped back down onto the bleachers. There was a moment of silence before he told her, "You remind me of someone."
"Who? And if you say your mother I will throw this shoe at you."
"No," he puffed out with a laugh. "Not my mother—though she's a wonderful woman and anyone would be lucky to be compared to her. No, you remind me of my sister. She doesn't take any of my crap either."
"Good for her."
"Yeah." That one word held a wealth of emotion. Affection, warmth, care. It was all there, but the most predominant was love—the type of love that went bone deep.
"Are you out here because you're fighting with her?" she ventured to guess.
"We're always fighting. That's nothing new." When he didn't expand further, she got the hint and dropped the topic. She didn't speak till a few minutes later when he asked, "Why are you out here instead of back at the dance?"
"I was feeling...suffocated."
"I understand. Too many people, too much drama."
"Something like that." She hooked her feet under the bleacher seat in front of her and used it as leverage to lean back. "I don't think high school dances are all it's cracked up to be."
"No fairy tale ending for you?"
An image of Carson and Lauren popped into her mind. "Nope. Not for my friend either." For some reason she found herself telling him about Avery and Wyatt. "And no one seems to know why he's acting this way. People always say women are the confusing gender, but I have to disagree. Males are just as, if not more, perplexing than females. You guys change your minds as much as a traffic signal."
"I disagree. Guys are easy to peg. It sounds like this Wyatt person is scared. You need to give him a little push. Play on his possessive instinct. Make him jealous."
"And how do we do that? Hire someone to dance with her?"
"Whoa! Cool your sarcastic jets for a second. No one said anything about hiring. Just ask a guy to dance with her. She's not hideous or anything right?"
"No!" Madison exclaimed, offended for her friend. "Avery's really pretty. Maybe not gorgeous in the classical sense but her features are soft and delicate—like a porcelain doll."
"Sounds good to me," he replied, his voice dripping with interest.
"Stay away from my friend," she ordered. "You're not good enough for her."
"I'm a great catch! I'm talented and smart and athletic. Any girl would be lucky to have me. Lucky!"
"That may be," she conceded with a dip of the head, "but you're not letting any girls catch you, now are you?" She heard of his reputation and after talking to him, she could see the appeal. He was funny and confident. A killer combination considering high school was a pool of insecure teenagers.
"Too smart for your own dang good. Just like Keeley," he muttered under his breath.
"You don't have to sound so disgruntled about it."
He sat back up, straddling the bleacher seat. With his arms resting on his knees, he asked, "So we solved one of your problems. What else is bothering you?"
"What makes you think there was more than one problem?"
"You're a girl. There's always something else." He bent his fingers and motioned her to hurry up. "Now tell your king so he can fix it."
It was one thing to tell him about Avery, it was another to confess her own troubles. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."
He hesitated. Then he dropped his shoulders and said, "Never mind."
On one hand she felt relieved he didn't push the issue, on the other she felt bad for being so difficult, especially because he was trying to help her. Another breeze swept by and Madison shivered. Goosebumps formed on her skin and she decided it was time to go.
Standing up, she offered him a piece of advice, "I don't know why you're out here or what you're hiding from, but you're unwillingness to talk about it isn't healthy. You should tell someone."
His posture became stiff, his eyes guarded. "In other words I should tell you?"
"Not if you don't want to. Your sister perhaps? Sounds like she has a good head on her shoulders."
"My problem isn't fixable. No amount of talking will ever make it right."
"And sulking will?"
He looked away.
She began descending down the steps. "If talking isn't going to help, then what about doing something? I don't know about you, but it's been my experience actions hold far more weight than words."
"Is that a nice way of saying to get off my ass?" he called down to her.
She stopped at the bottom and lifted her head. "You said it yourself. You are the king of this school." She motioned to the buildings in front of her and then to him. "But from where I'm standing, you're not acting like it. Running away isn't the answer, Zach."
"And what gives you the right to lecture me about my problems? Don't forget you ran to this spot just like I did."
She shrugged a shoulder and looked at the quad, a gleaming area surrounded by darkness. "But which one of us is returning and which one of us is staying?"
The question hung in the air.
Madison gave him a gentle smile. "Goodbye Zach and good luck."
She walked back with purpose in her step. She was going to take her own advice and do something about her problem. No more running.
She found Carson by the refreshment table. His back was to her and he was up on his tiptoes, his neck straining as he looked over the crowd. She went straight to him and tapped his shoulder. Startled, he swung around, but his feet became tangled and he threw out an arm to stop himself from falling.
"Close call," she said. Her hands reached out and steadied him.
"You're just the girl I've been searching for." His arms circled around her back and he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. He buried his nose into the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. "I'm so glad you're here."
Relief poured over her. She snuggled deeper into his arms and whispered, "Me too."
He pulled back and grabbed her shoulders. Gently shaking her, he asked, "Where have you been? I found your friends, but you weren't with them. We tried to find you, but it's as if you vanished into thin air."
"I didn't mean to make you worry." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a brown-haired boy sneak back into the dance. A smile formed on her lips and she said, "I got lost for a while but I found my way back."
His face turned serious as he picked up the subtle undertones of her comment. Running a hand down her arm he told her, "I'm glad you returned. You should know though, I wouldn't have stopped searching."
"Even if it took all night?"
He slid his fingers under her palm and lifted it to his lips. His breath was warm against her chilled skin. "I'm not someone who gets discouraged, especially from something I want."
"But you can get distracted," she replied lightly.
His hazel eyes darkened, reminding her of a gloomy autumn night. In contrast, his lips pressed down in a kiss that seared her hand. "My feelings aren't so easily swayed."
"It didn't look that way to me."
"She wanted one dance for old time's sake. That's it." Her face must have showed her skepticism because he sighed and pulled her into an empty corner. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
He returned minutes later with a clear box in his hand. Her eyes widened with surprise as he held it out to her.
"For me?"
"That's why I asked you what the color of your dress was."
Her hands trembled as she opened the small container. White roses with dark green stems were bundled together with silver ribbon. She took out the delicate corsage and brought it to her nose. The sweet fragrance washed over her, pushing aside some of her jealousy. "It's beautiful, Carson. Thank you."
His expression turned tender as he brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. "Do you remember when I said you were mine for the night?"
She nodded, too overcome by his gesture to speak.
He took the corsage out of her hand and tied the silver ribbons around her wrist. "Well, just as you are mine, I'm yours. Don't ever forget that, Madison Chase."
Happiness bubbled inside of her. She picked up the ends of his tie that was hanging around his neck and pulled him toward hers. It was then that she noticed the color. "Green," she murmured, comparing it the bodice of her dress. They both wore dark emerald green.
He touched the corsage. "That's my claim. And this," he touched his tie, "is yours."