Chapter Eleven

Right from the get-go, Friday was a busy and eventful day. As Sabrina promised, people were getting over Maisie's tweets and the fact that I didn't kiss her on the first date and 'ran away' from her after she kissed me on the cheek. It appeared that after Parker's little speech in the gay-straight alliance society, they felt bad enough to go online and respond to Maisie's tweets saying she 'wasn't owed a kiss' even though Maisie never implied that. Another tweet said, 'maybe she's a fast walker'. The second was my favourite response because it came from Jack, and he garnered over thirty likes on his post.

The next line of tweets from Maisie went on to state that she was of course, all about consent and that her tweets represented the situation in a bad light. During the school day, she avoided eye contact and didn't come to sit next to me in English Literature. It made sense, according to Anna, because in Maisie's head, she was the one rejected and therefore, if I wanted to go out again, it was up to me.

The tension got so tense that instead of people asking me why I didn't kiss her or why did I run away after, they asked me when was I going to text her or if I planned to at all. Maisie encouraged this behaviour by tweeting exactly the same question with a load of frowny faces and posted pictures of the tv screen at the bowling alley with our assigned nicknames.

During chemistry, I slipped out of the classroom to go to the bathroom to have a break and spent way too much time washing my hands.

Someone was in the bathroom stall, and it was far too quiet meaning that they wouldn't use the toilet until after I had left the room. Which was far enough but that wasn't the plan for at least another three minutes or so. They gave up and flushed the toilet, exiting the stall a moment later, and pink hair of all things caught my eye through the mirror.

"Hey . . . Maisie." The foam in my hand ran out and needed another squirt from the dispenser.

"Sam."

"I don't like ketchup squirted all over my fries."

"I figured that after you swiped your hand across the table unnecessarily when we were going to the lane."

"You caught that, huh?"

"Yeah," she huffed out a laugh and saddled up next to me by the next sink and ran the tap. "It was fairly odd."

"You caught that too. Good, I thought a good joke was wasted on you."

"So, Sam . . . you never texted me."

"I didn't. But, neither did you." It wasn't fair that I was landed with that responsibility, especially since when she asked me out, that I had to sort out the date and initiate that conversation too. It went both ways. "I actually did have a good time with you."

"Me too."

"But . . ."

"You don't want to do it again."

"I'm sorry, I don't."

"Want to know something? This is a good experience. I'm so bad with texting girls that are a little distance away and are so easy to ghost, but with you, I have to see your face every day, so it's a learning curve having to deal with this face to face. Even if it's in the girl's bathroom." Maisie grinned and went into the stall and wiped her hands with the toilet paper, dumping it in the bin next to me. "What's up?"

Wow, she was really going for it. "You want an honest answer?"

She nodded in encouragement. "Yep. Let's do this."

"I did enjoy the date. I did have a good time. I really liked bowling. Didn't like the food but it was definitely a four out of five stars."

"The suspension is killing me. Just tell me. Was it because I tried to kiss you?"

"No," I said gently, seeing her worry through her creased forehead. "Not at all. But it was the day after when people were showing me your tweets, and asking me why I didn't kiss you, and why I 'ran away' which you know, I walk fast," I lied through my teeth for the last part. "I'm a private person, and that's our fundamental difference that I know at the end of the day, I couldn't deal with."

"Okay." She took in a deep breath. "I see where you're coming from."

"And I'm not even asking you to change that because again, it's a fundamental difference."

"I understand. I wouldn't ask you to be okay with it either. I get it. Wow. See? I knew this would be a learning curve. I love it." Maisie brought me in for a hug and squeezed tight. "Thanks for being honest."

Wow, this conversation went smoother than smooth. It was almost impossible. "Friends?"

"Sure. I'll even make the effort to make it impossible to know who you are when I tweet about you."

I laughed and headed for the dryer. "I appreciate that."

Of course, as soon as I got back to chemistry, people had their heads ducked and were reading the tweets Maisie posted about me. This time it didn't annoy me as much, even when I got slips of paper asking me how did I manage to turn it around so that she confessed her love for me so publicly. That was the thing about stuff like that online, no one would ever know the real story behind the text. The context was lost on people who weren't the poster and the person they posted about, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Anna and I met up at her locker to gather the material we had made throughout the week for our 'Shoot Your Shot' theme for prom before heading to Mr. Byer's classroom. By the smile on his face when he opened this door, it felt like he was just as excited about the concept as we were. We let him scan over the posters, and mock-ups of the arrows and the toy bows that we bought at the local charity shop and he shot an arrow into the bin.

He turned to us with a bow in hand. "Ladies, I approve."

"Yes!" Anna shook her fist in the air.

"It's perfect. The fourteenth lands on a Friday this year, so you have the entire week to ramp up the sales with this event of yours. Starting Monday, start putting up the posters, posting online, letting people know about the Valentine's Day theme and the day by day activity list during that week. I want to see all the marketing material before you post on Monday."

"Sir, yes, sir." I saluted.

"But there is one thing that you must put as a condition for attending prom."

"Of course, what it is?" Anna asked.

"No stars of any kind can be seen anywhere, whether that be clothes, pins, badged, on the crown, in the gym, in the sky . . . You name it. I'm so glad you girls volunteered. I knew I could count on you."

"You have our word." Anna grabbed the material off the table. "Thanks so much, sir, I'll send you everything on Sunday evening for final checks."

"That's perfect, Anna. See you Monday!"

"Bye!" we called out, leaving the classroom.

Anna handed me half of the pile as we headed to the computer lab for the rest of the free period. "You better tell Sabrina."

"About what?"

"That everyone will know the theme by Monday. She only has the advantage for the weekend, really. She'll probably want to make use of it."

"Oh, trust me, they are," I told her, opening the door to the lab and stopping in my tracks when there was another person in the room. Ew. Anna went in first and pulled out a chair for me. "Parker roped me into going on their date to the roller rink this evening to capture everything. They'll get their moment in the spotlight."

"You could ask Maisie to go with you?"

I cleared my throat and logged into the computer. "I spoke to her, actually."

Anna's eyes widened. "And?"

"We're going to be friends."

"Friends as in . . . actual friends? Or was that a nice goodbye thing?"

"Actual friends, I think."

"Well . . . Making a friend is good."

"You don't have to sound so happy about it," I teased.

She shrugged. "Okay, so I was still rooting for us to have an us kind of year, and it's still going to plan. Booyah. Now let's do this. So, let's have the banners, posters and online marketing for the prom itself first, yeah? So, date of prom, ticket prices, venue, photo I.D, the theme of course and the dates we're selling until. Do you think we should let them buy tickets at the door?"

"Hell no. We want to enjoy the night without people trying to cry their way inside. Guarantee there's at least three Karens in our year group. If there's no option to buy at the door, they'll plan ahead. Besides, we're giving them plenty of notice."

"Okay . . . I'll scan the poster and curate the sizes and then Monday we can post them on the socials, and print off the flyers and posters Monday morning and pinning them?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Anna started scanning the poster in the printer. "Now that you're only friends with Maisie, who do you think you'll shoot your shot at for prom?"

I downloaded the scanned document on the computer. "There's plenty of time to plan for that sort of thing. But Sabrina's deciding my date for me, remember? Honestly, I can only imagine who she'd pick for me. What about you? Got your eye on anyone?"

". . . I was thinking we could have a friend prom?"

"Convince Sabrina of that and sure, but we pinkie swore."

"And that's sacred to you both. Damn you, nerds."

"Whatever," I laughed, stretching out my back before uploading the document and started resizing each to fit different websites. "Do you think Sabrina and Parker will end up actually liking each other?"

"Who says they don't right now?"

"That's a very good point."

"I'm kidding. I don't know. All that time going to be spent together. . . with you third-wheeling with a camera. It's always a possibility. But then again, me and you spend a lot of time together, and we haven't fallen in love."

Grinning, I pointed out, "Anna, you're aro."

Anna placed her hands on my shoulder and peered at the computer screen. She squeezed me. "Why are you worried about that anyway? Like you told me, you don't have a crush on her and you two aren't exactly friends."

"Just, you know, making conversation, I guess."

"Interesting conversation."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't pout. You want my actual opinion? They're using each other like you used Sabrina and she's using you. It's all politics."

"You make it sound so . . ."

"It's the name of the game, baby. Prom be like that."

Just for her tone alone, I snuck in a tiny star in the bottom right corner of all the posters, making it so small that she wouldn't notice until I pointed it out when we had spread the flyers and banners all over the school and when they were already posted all over the school's social media.

There was the same pit in my stomach of raw nerves as when I was getting ready to go on a date with Maisie. It was only a couple of hours away that I'd be as Anna put it, third-wheeling the soon to be prom queens. For some reason, my stomach was doing flips and kicks to the point that I thought there was an immaculate conceptional pregnancy going on with a demon child.

As long as they didn't expect me to skate behind them with a camera, it shouldn't be too bad. Right?