The students next to him aww in unison, staring up at us with wistful doe eyes. “You guys are so perfect,” says a girl in tortoiseshell glasses.
“I want a marriage like that one day,” the other girl says to her friend.
Renner’s ears turn pink. He’s watching me, silently encouraging me to play along. We are supposed to be getting married, after all.
I force a smile and pull him in for a brief hug. All for show, of course.
“I was beginning to think you were leaving me to the wolves tonight,” he whispers in my ear as we head into the nearly empty gym. Prom only officially started five minutes ago.
The room is entirely transformed. The lush purple drapery, glittery streamers, and balloons make it feel like we’re really in New Orleans. Mardi Gras feathers and beads drape the tables, along with fancy masquerade masks of varying colors and designs.
I tilt my head. “Oh, trust me, I considered it.”
“I know you did.” He playfully nudges me in the ribs and gives me a rueful smile.
Maybe it’s the suit, but looking at Renner is making me nervous. “So what exactly is the job of a chaperone?” Tasks are the best distraction.
“According to her”—he points to Hedgehog Lady, who’s waving from the other side of the gym—“we’re on watch for students who are drunk or sneaking in booze. Oh, and apparently making sure no one’s crashing without a ticket.”
I can’t help but giggle at Renner. He’s so earnest. “Glad to see you’re taking your duties seriously.”
“So how was the city?” he asks.
“The city was . . . interesting.”
His brow shifts and I can tell he wants to prod. Instead, he nudges me with his elbow. “Ah. Did you do a little adult indulging while you were there?”
I contemplate telling him about Dad right then and there. But the last thing I want to do is ruin prom with death news. “Oh yeah. I went wild,” I say sarcastically.
“You went to see strippers, I bet.”
I choke back a laugh. “That’s what any responsible person would do the moment they reach adulthood.”
“It’s only logical.”
“How did things go with you?” I ask. Before I left, he mentioned he was going to go to his mom’s for dinner.
“Good. My mom made lasagna, so I can’t really complain,” he says good-naturedly. “Met her boyfriend, Jared. Honestly, he’s a cool dude. Apparently, he and I go for beers every Thursday. And he helps me coach the junior track team.”
I feel much lighter knowing he’s feeling better. Before I can tell him that, Hedgehog Lady sidles up next to us. “Charlotte, thank god you’re here. None of the other chaperones will listen to me.” She points to a white-haired man in the corner, head down, arms folded over his chest, napping right next to the DJ booth. His face is familiar. It’s Mr. Kingsley, our career-planning teacher. Just a little older.
“All he’s done is drink all the strawberry punch and sleep,” Hedgehog Lady says. “And the parent chaperones are just gossiping and eating all the snacks.”
I crack my knuckles, ready for the challenge. Delegating is my superpower. I was born for this. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”
“Need help?” Renner asks, taking my hand as I head to the small kitchen attached to the back of the gym.
A tingle spreads down my spine at his touch, and I take a minute to make sure I’ve heard him correctly. This is a first. He’s never offered to help me with any student council tasks. Like when I was struggling to carry two full buckets of soapy water at the car wash fundraiser and he snidely told me to keep up the good work while he flirted with Anya Holton.
“I’m good. Thanks,” I say, dropping his hand.
It doesn’t take much to set the chaperones straight. When I intrude on the mom gang in the back room, they stand at attention, steeling their spines as though I’m some drill sergeant. Waking Mr. Kingsley from his slumber proves to be a task. After shaking him, Renner tries poking him with a measuring stick. He remains conscious for ten minutes before falling asleep again.
Students flood the gym in packs over the next hour. By nine, the entire dance floor is crammed. Turns out, kids from the future have brought back grinding. I keep accidentally making eye contact with students, bent over, gyrating against each other’s junk.
Twerking isn’t the only relic that’s been resurrected. Frills and ruffle dresses are back too. They remind me of Mom’s old prom pictures. Gotta love cyclical fashion.
Renner and I hold down the fort like nightclub bouncers. We’ve confiscated multiple flasks of vodka hidden in toilet tanks. Renner thinks we should let “kids be kids” and go easy on them, but the last thing we need is students leaving wasted on our watch.
“Caught these ones trying to drink it behind the bleachers,” I say, handing Hedgehog Lady the tenth flask of the night.
“You’re a boss. Putting this straight in the collection.” By collection she means the stash teachers are going to hoard in their desks for emergency prep periods. “Hey, you and J. T. have been on the ball all night. Go have some fun,” she says, giving me a light shove.
I stumble backward into someone.
When I teeter around, Renner grabs me by the waist. “You’re good,” he says. His breath feathers my ear.
“Sorry. Hedgehog Lady pushed me,” I explain, cheeks heating with our proximity. Before I can gather the wherewithal to move away, a familiar tune fills the air. It’s “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing. One of Mom’s favorite movies.
Hedgehog Lady makes a funny motion with her hands, pretending to waltz with the air.
“Looks like she wants us to dance,” I say, uneasy.
Renner tightens his grip on my waist. “It would be illegal not to. This is a banger.”
“You’ve seen Dirty Dancing?”
“Who hasn’t?”
“Just didn’t know you were familiar with ’80s romance movies.”
He lifts a shoulder. “It may be ancient but it’s a classic. You should do the run and jump,” he urges. “I’ll catch you.”
I wince at the thought. “No. I don’t trust you. And I haven’t had good luck with falling lately.” I imagine my face hitting the floor and waking up fifty years in the future, wrinkled like a prune.
He pouts. “Come on. I won’t drop you.”
I stay put, feet on the ground. “Nope.”
“Fine. I’ll just sing it,” he says.
“Please don’t sing it.”
“Oh, come on. I know all the lyrics.” He does not. In fact, he butchers them. It’s quintessential Renner, going for gold with zero forethought. But strangely, it doesn’t make me as angry as that day in his van.
He spins me awkwardly, my arm tangling with his. “So how did things with Kassie go?”
“I showed up at her superfancy yoga studio and knocked over a plant. Made a massive mess,” I admit, letting myself feel the music as I spin back into his chest.
I feel the vibration of his laugh against my cheek. “Was she mad?”
“No, actually. We went next door, had a smoothie, and I asked why we weren’t friends anymore.”
He nods like he understands, smoothing his palm down the small of my back. “And?”
I shrug when he spins me around again. Adult Renner isn’t too bad of a dancer. “I didn’t get a clear answer, but I don’t think it was anything dramatic. She seemed super happy for us.” I work down the lump in my throat, still not ready to talk about Dad.
“Really? I expected something more dramatic.”
“I know. I mean, whatever happened, it kind of feels like we just gave up on almost ten years of friendship.” My stomach twinges saying it.
We sway around for a couple moments before he speaks again. “Can I be honest about something?”
“When aren’t you honest?”
“I always thought you deserved better than Kassie,” he says.