“I don’t see any more up there. I think it’s over Mr. F,” Justin says.
“You bet it is.” Mr. Finley yanks Justin’s arm and walks him over to a corner of the stage. Shandy tells the crowd to party on and that we’re all safe and everything is under control. The DJ puts on “Dancing Queen.” Fate. I’d almost say everything had gone better than I’d planned. Except for the flying cutouts and Sean’s bloody nose.
And maybe if it wasn’t for the look of death on Mr. Finley’s face. “All of you. Right here. Right now,” Mr. Finley says.
“Even me?” asks Brian.
“I said all of you.”
We drop the cutouts, half of them still attached by their strings to the rafters. Sean leads the way as we straighten our dresses and tuxedos and slink over to him and Justin.
“We had nothing to do with this, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Laura says to Mr. Finley.
“Yeah,” says Justin. “That was nuts.”
“Well, I’ve been given many reasons to believe some or all of you were involved. Not to mention two anonymous tips. I hate to do this, but I hate even more for my faculty and students to have been disrespected the way we just were. It’s deplorable. In lieu of any disciplinary action, contacting of your parents, suspension, marks on your school records or whatnot, I’d like you to voluntarily leave. If you have any questions or protests, we can discuss it in my office, with your counselor and parents on Monday morning.”
“Are you serious?” Justin asks.
“Leaving Prom early is me cutting you a break. I’m as serious as a heart attack. Don’t test me. Who’s got another question or comment?”
None of us say a word. Molly and Laura are crying. Kallie and Jane are pissed. So are the guys. Even Brian. Shandy gives a sad smile to Mr. Finley, shaking her head at us, then waltzes off the stage.
“Ladies, you can make your way out the door and wait for your dates outside. Gentlemen, you can pick up and untie these monster pictures and follow me to the dumpster out back.” Mr. Finley looks at me and Justin. “This should’ve been a magical night for you both. I hope it ended the way you had hoped.”
I walk away, back to the spot where I’d fallen, kneel to the floor, and gather as many of my crown pieces as I can. I sweep them into my clutch bag. Actually Finley, this night hasn’t been all that bad. Maybe not exactly what I’d hoped for, but definitely magical. I see Maisey’s face again. This time she’s the one laughing.
THIRTY-TWO
I dodge into the bathroom on my way out. I don’t pee or check the mirror. I lean against the wall, the cold tiles against my bare shoulders. My heart’s racing and my breath is heavy again. I run my fingers slowly across the beads on my purse, taking care to talk my breath into slowing down. You did it. It was scary, but you said everything you wanted to say. It’s over. Now, breathe. Slow and steady on the ins and outs.
My phone buzzes. KALLIE VATE.
Hey PROM QUEEN, We’re going to Chris’s after-party! See you there! CONGRATS!!!! LOVE YOU! XOXO.
As I leave the bathroom, soft muffled laughs and fast footsteps echo behind me. I turn and tiptoe back toward the bathroom door. I push it open a sliver and see Maisey’s friends, Tera and Anne. Tera’s barefoot in a tuxedo suit as she zips Anne into a toile and floral mini dress. A shopping bag overstuffed with black clothes sits next to their feet.
I push the door open wider and they freeze. Anne’s eyes get baseball size and Tera sucks in a deep breath.
“Holy shit. You scared me,” says Tera, her voice shaking. She pushes the bag with her foot.
Anne steps in front of the bag. “So, congratulations on getting Prom Queen.”
“I saw the bag. I know what you guys did.”
Tera snatches the bag and shoves the black clothes farther down. “We didn’t do any—”
“And I don’t care,” I say. “It was a good one. I think she would’ve laughed.” Tera cracks a small smile.
“You’re really not going to say anything?” Anne asks.
“No. It’s the least I could do. I’m really sorry about her—for your loss. I …” Tears spring to my eyes again.
“Don’t do that.” Tera slides her feet into a pair of black and white wing-tipped dress shoes. “We said we were only going to laugh tonight. It was supposed to be just for her. It’s what she …” Her gaze falls as she tugs the tail of her tuxedo jacket. “It’s what she wanted.”
“Yeah,” whispers Anne. “Only dancing and laughing and no tears. Of course you did kind of mess that up because I got teary-eyed during your speech. But, I think Maisey would’ve been okay with that.”
A teacher in a tacky orange formal walks in and waltzes up to a mirror to adjust her poufy updo. Anne turns into a scared rabbit statue again and Tera stares at the bag. I grab it and stuff it under my arm.