Chapter Eighteen

After my more than embarrassing breakdown, we got to work on my prom proposal to Anna.

Parker lent us her older brother's go-kart which was probably the hardest part of the plan next to riding it down the hallway of the school the next morning without drawing the attention of the teachers who liked to get their classrooms set up extra early.

What we didn't count on was the weather, so be so crap that we were forced to do the painting inside. But what we could always count on was Mrs. Cunningham, my English lit teacher on being late so she wouldn't be there for at least another two hours or so.

As Sabrina scouted ahead down the hallways and I rode the go-kart after her, Parker was in the English Literature classroom, setting newspaper down all across the floor.

Somehow, in my attempt to spend less time with both Sabrina and Parker together, I'd recruited them into helping me make a grand gesture to my best friend – a grand gesture that needed a lot of prep work and lookouts. Surely, the school wouldn't at the security cameras unless there was a cause to, right?

It was under that assumption that we chose not to buy our own paints in favour of using the paint in the art classroom. Just because this was a heartfelt undertaking didn't mean it had to cost us cash.

"Tell me again why we need to bring the go-kart inside?" Sabrina asked as she walked backwards ahead of me.

"It's raining."

"But you're not going to paint the go-kart itself, are you? I saw your sketches. You're panting cardboard to put on it. You didn't need to insist on bringing the go-kart inside."

"Fair point." I skimmed my hand over the steering wheel. "But where's the fun in that?"

"Not risking my crown by getting caught with this inside."

"I mean . . . Is driving a go-kart down the hallways punishable? I see people ride their skateboards all the time around the school."

"That's different, and you know it."

Sabrina reached the end of one hallway and peeked around the corner, only to whip back around and flatten her back against the lockers. She held her up a hand, signalling for me to pause as she casually walked around the corner like nothing was wrong.

I glanced around, and there was only one door big enough to get the go-cart through quickly, and that was a janitor's closet. It wasn't big enough to store the giant thing. Holding my breath, I waited, and eventually, Sabrina rounded the corner again, walking fast and violently pointing behind me.

"Yes, Mr. Byers, my sister, is, in fact, enjoying the whole prom committee process. She loves your collaboration!" she spoke louder than necessary.

I reversed as fast as I could and rode blindly down another hallway and hoped that no one else was around. It turned out this way was clear, so I made it to Mrs. Cunningham's room without being caught.

"You're out of breath," Parker noted. "Everything go okay?"

"Sabrina's distracting Mr. Byers, here, let's get this thing inside quickly. His classroom's one hall over, and that's too close for comfort."

"Shit. Okay. Why did you bring this inside? Fuck. We need to turn it on its side."

"We should've just bought the paint."

"No shit," she said laughing, tilting the go-kart onto one side. "You grab that end . . . now lift . . . little to the left . . . we've got this bitch."

"Hand cramp."

"No! No one sec, my grip's gone to shit, hold on—"

"—Shit."

The go-kart landed with a loud clang.

"What was that?" Mr. Byer's voice circulated down the hallways.

"I'm sure it was nothing sir, just another teacher moving around their classroom for the hundredth time," Sabrina joked.

"I should offer my assistance."

"You're such a gentlemen Mr. Byers. Would you mind helping me out? My locker refuses to open. Maybe you could get it open for me?"

Parker and I stayed frozen even after their footsteps had all but faded away. Snapping her fingers, she silently requested for us to try again, and this time the attempt was more successful. We dropped it in front of Mrs. Cunningham's desk, and with Parker already getting the supplies from the art room, we were all set – or so I thought.

"Sorry to bail on you like this, Sam, but I got an essay due in t-minus five hours."

"Oh, it's cool, you've done plenty."

"I'll swing by later and see how you're doing. I've only got three thousand words to do in under . . . shit, it's eight already? One hour before class starts."

"You can do it."

"Damn, Sam, honestly, in another life, you would be an awesome cheerleader."

I stretched a bunch of cardboard out on the ground. "Stop procrastinating and go."

Parker ruffled my hair. "See? Such a motivator. Catch you later."

With Parker gone, I could concentrate on the design on my Jimmy Neutron, Strato EL rocket design. The idea, in theory, was to paint the cardboard in blue, red and a little yellow and stick it around in the shape of the rocket on top on the go-kart. The likelihood of it coming together was nearing zero without the help from Parker – and with Sabrina now entertaining Mr. Byers, I was by myself.

I shook a large paintbrush in blue and brushed long strokes across the large piece of cardboard. I'd gotten lost in the process and had done a full coat of blue over all the cardboard pieces when Sabrina finally showed up, and instead of greeting me like a normal person, she snuck up behind me, wrapped her arms around my waist and blew behind my ear. She laughed, pressing her hands flat against my stomach, feeling it tense up under her teasing.

"Sorry, there's no time for such things like that, Sam," she said, snatching a paintbrush from below me, pushing her chest into my back.

"You . . . are a big tease."

"I am your assistant. What would you have me do?" She flicked the paint free brush against my cheek before backing away. Then, she turned me around and let her fingers crawl up my stomach in a straight line up my chest until she was brushing her thumb across my bottom lip. "Why bother watching the paint dry when we can do so much more interesting things."

I swallowed hard. "Like what?"

She leaned in, brushing her lips against my cheek and suddenly pulled back with a bare banner in her hand. "Like designing the actual proposal."

My foot stomped petulantly on the ground, snatching the banner from her and laid it across the table. "I hate you."

"I think you like me a lot, actually." She knocked her shoulder against mine and grabbed a marker. "Anna, go to Prom with me?"

"Yeah, you get started on that, I'm going to write a little message beneath."

"Saying what?"

"What would Ultralord do?"

"Is that another nerdy Jimmy Neutron thing?"

"Maybe so."

"She's going to love this."

"I hope so."

"Don't worry. She will. She's mostly calmed down. You know how she gets when she's ill. Incredibly and obnoxiously cranky."

"We should've told her though."

Sabrina nodded in agreement. "I think . . . the idea of us wanting it to keep our situation private makes sense. We didn't want complications. Easy breezy and like it or not Sam, she's always bared the burden of dealing with the fallout when it comes to us. She dealt with it for years after one kiss. It wasn't bad that we wanted to avoid that. Since we're not in a relationship, it might've gotten her hopes up that we'd be back to how we use to be. That would be cruel. It's better now that she knows the truth."

"Right."

"We were wrong . . . but it wasn't bad of us. Not really. Hope is a dangerous thing."

"And because we're not in a relationship, we avoid the fallout."

"Exactly."

"Shared brain blast."

"Brain wave," she said.

"Brain."

"No."

"Weird?

"Incredibly weird," she confirmed.

We finished up around forty minutes later, leaving Sabrina enough time to go home and collect Anna before coming back to school again.

What was funny about having a cardboard cut out of a rocket sellotaped onto a go-kart? People automatically assumed it must be an art project that was supervised and had gotten the all-clear from a teacher.

So, I while I paraded it down the hallways of the school to leave it outside and locked under the bleachers, there was a lot of staring but not a lot of questions. Parker even pitched in at the end by going into Mrs. Cunningham's classroom and making all the evidence disappear.

The day went by slowly. It was like waiting for Christmas morning and suddenly Christmas Eve seemed like a whole month. I tried distracting myself until lunch came around by reading some more of Maisie's tweets, but they were all kind of depressing. They were all about loving someone from afar, being friend-zoned, seeing the one you love with another, and the rest were promotion for Jack and Gerald's campaign for prom Kings.

Resonating with each of her tweets to the point of wanting to jab a pencil into my eye probably meant I should've gone out of the app, but it was kind of addicting reading the thoughts and feelings of someone going through a situation a little similar to me. Except I wasn't friend-zoned. I was 'fooling around' zoned. Nothing serious zoned. I was an extended hook-up.

As soon as the bell rang I was up and out of my seat, racing down the hallway to the exit and simultaneously texting Sabrina at the same time to collect her sister and bring her outside only – texting while walking was stupid because I collided into someone, sending a burst of papers to go flying everywhere.

"Shit," I stammered in shock, collecting the paper. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Sam."

"Anna?"

"Sam." Anna helped me to my feet. "I should be the one saying sorry. Sabrina told me that you came to check up on me and you had to deal with her drunk. You're a saint."

"I don't think that excuses . . . the lying."

"It doesn't, but look at you, you're covered in paint, and you're only like that when you're really really guilty."

"So . . . you forgive me?"

"Yes. Plus, you cleaned my house all by yourself. So, me and Sabrina wouldn't have to. To my standards. I think that deserves a celebration. Don't you?"

"Exactly." Except you came five minutes too early. "Want to head outside?"

"It's a bit cold out."

"Pretty please?" I fluttered my eyelashes. "I need fresh air."

"Okay but you owe me."

"I know. I do."

"Ugh no. No more pouty tones. Or shifty guilty looks. You're . . . doing whatever you're doing with my sister." Anna led me down the hallway by hooking her arm in mine. "Which we do need to talk about properly because what did I say to you, Sam? You can't dip your toes. You need to jump all in, and you somehow found some stupid loophole that doesn't make sense whatsoever. Why did you come to that conclusion? Let me tell you why. You knew it was stupid. That's why you didn't talk to me."

I was literally being berated for my life choices as I led her outside to her surprise.

Typical.

I took it on the chin, nodding along, internally not disagreeing with much of what she said.

Sabrina sent me a text saying that she saw us and she was reverting to plan B.

What the fuck was plan B?

Sabrina jogged to us as we approached the bleachers and caught us both in a hug at the same time. "Avert your eyes for a second, Anna. We need to do some kissy business for one second."

"You did not just say kissy business," Anna complained as Sabrina pulled me under the bleachers.

"You did not just say kissy business," I repeated her sister's sentiment, but Sabrina planted a quick and purposeful kiss on my lips and ran back out to her sister, leaving me alone with the go-kart. "Okay, that was official business that needed doing. Definitely."

Driving the go-kart out, making sure that the first thing Anna would see was the Strato EL on the side, my heart thumped wildly.

Sabrina twisted her sister to face me as I drove it out from under the bleachers and came to a halt in front of her. I took out the small banner from under my leg and held it across my chest.

Anna reached out and touched the cardboard of the go-kart. "I accept this responsibility of being your date, understanding the consequences that you bestowed against me."

"That's another lame Jimmy Neutron thing, isn't it?" Sabrina sighed.

I stood up and let Anna sit on the go-kart, who nodded affirmably before shouting, "Gotta blast!"

Sabrina and I watched on like concerned parents as Anna drove the go-kart away, to God knows where.

"How am I attracted to you and all that nerdiness?" Sabrina asked.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to find out that answer for yourself."

She'd helped me out with no one around to document how she contributed to the best prom proposal in history. She could have easily used the situation to her advantage to promote herself and Parker for the positions of prom queens, but she didn't. When she fixed the beanie on my head, noting that it was hers without saying a word to claim it back, I promised myself there and then that I'd help her win the campaign.

Quitting wasn't an option anymore.