Prom Date Read online

  Fortunately this shut the guys up. At least temporarily, anyway. But as she did her workout, she was irked at the males in this school. It was like they’d been brainwashed. First by Mr. Worthington with his “boys must be gentlemen” speech at the beginning of the school year and more recently by that silly youth pastor. She’d never seen such thickheaded and stubborn guys. Very childish.

  “Something’s got to be done,” she told her DG friends as they gathered at Costello’s for an “emergency” protect-the-prom meeting on Saturday morning. “The guys in this school are not backing down from their I-hate-prom campaign.”

  “If anything, they’ve gotten stronger,” Emma told them. “Some of the girls have even gotten on their bandwagon.”

  “I really thought that when we opened prom up to all the classes, it would help,” Cassidy said.

  “I think it has helped,” Bryn told her. “Without the freshman and sophomore girls’ support, we’d be sunk by now. Unfortunately, it might not be enough.”

  “Maybe it’s just the end of an era,” Abby said gently. “Time for prom to just lie down and quietly die.”

  “No!” Bryn and Devon both exclaimed.

  “And what about the fund-raiser part?” Emma asked. “By the way, Felicia said to tell you guys hi. She went with her dad to the treatment center to visit her sister. She couldn’t wait to tell Sofia the good news about prom being a fund-raiser for her.”

  “How can we take that away now?” Bryn demanded.

  “So does that mean Sofia’s still at the same treatment center?” Cassidy asked Emma.

  “She is for now. Since they’d already started her on chemo before the insurance pulled the plug, they’ve worked it out for her to stay up there awhile.”

  “Back to my point,” Bryn said. “How can we take that away from Sofia? We have to fight to keep prom and to keep it a fund-raiser.”

  “But the guys are ready to put it to a student-body vote next week,” Cassidy reminded them. “It might be out of our hands.”

  “Then it’s time to bring out the big guns,” Bryn declared.

  “Ooh, I like that,” Devon teased. “Bryn’s getting feisty.”

  “She’s just been watching action movies with her dad again,” Abby told them. “That always gets her fired up.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Bryn placed her palms on the table with a steely gleam in her blue eyes. “But I happen to have a plan. A plan that I think will work.”

  “Cool.” Devon leaned forward with interest.

  “Remember I told you guys about promposals?” Bryn began.

  “Yeah.” Devon nodded eagerly. “I remember.”

  “Huh?” Emma looked confused.

  “You were probably down in LA,” Cassidy told her. “Living the big life on the red carpet.”

  Bryn pointed at Cassidy’s iPad. “Go to YouTube and do a search on promposals, okay?”

  Cassidy went into search mode.

  “A promposal is kind of like a wedding proposal,” Bryn told Emma. “And a lot of guys are planning these really fun, extravagant ways to ask girls to proms.”

  “I found one.” Cassidy set her iPad in the center of the table and soon they were all watching as a bunch of kids did what seemed like a spontaneous flash dance, but ended with the dancers holding up cards that said SHELBY, WILL YOU GO TO PROM WITH ME?

  “Oh, that’s sweet,” Emma said. “Look, Shelby is actually crying.”

  They looked at a few more, commenting and critiquing on which ones they liked or didn’t like.

  “Those are hilarious,” Abby said, “but how does it solve anything?”

  “Yeah,” Emma agreed. “I mean, if the guys want to cancel prom altogether, how are we supposed to get a wacky promposal out of them?”

  Bryn slowly closed Cassidy’s iPad. “Because I want to make promposals part of the fund-raiser.”

  “Huh?” Cassidy frowned.

  “Yeah, I’m kinda lost too,” Emma confessed.

  “That’s because you’re forgetting something,” Bryn said in a challenging tone. “Remember the Christmas ball?”

  “Of course. But what does that have to do with this?” Abby demanded.

  “How did we get the guys on board?”

  “Oh, I get it.” Devon nodded eagerly. “I know where you’re going with that, Bryn. You want to turn promposals into some kind of a contest, don’t you?”

  “And why not?” Bryn made a sly smile. “We come up with a prize that’s big enough to entice a guy to step out of his comfort zone, and voila! He’s planning out a fabulous promposal.”

  “Brilliant!” Devon said.

  “And that means he’s going to prom,” Abby concluded.

  “Exactly.” Bryn nodded eagerly. “The big question is, what kind of prize will it take to get our guys to make fools of themselves?”

  “Do they really have to make fools of themselves?” Cassidy asked.

  “Well, you gotta admit that it would feel risky to put yourself out there like that.” Devon tapped Cass’s iPad. “I mean, doing something that crazy and extreme in the hopes that the girl will accept your invitation. That takes guts.”

  “And a really big prize,” Abby said glumly. “Which takes money . . . and we’re trying to raise money. This is starting to feel impossible to me.”

  “We’ll get someone to donate a prize,” Bryn told them.

  “What kind of prize?” Devon asked with interest.

  “Something big.” Bryn frowned. “I’m not really sure yet.”

  “Yeah, maybe you can get someone to donate a new pickup or SUV,” Cassidy said sarcastically. “I’m sure that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  “People donate used cars sometimes,” Abby told Bryn.

  “A used car?” Bryn shook her head. “That doesn’t seem like a very tempting prize.”

  “What if it was a hot-looking used car?” Devon suggested.

  “That could be thousands of dollars,” Cassidy pointed out. “Money that could be given directly to Sofia’s medical treatment. Why give it away in a car?”

  “I agree,” Abby told them. “The prize cannot be that huge.”

  “Yeah.” Bryn nodded. “You guys are probably right. But there’s got to be something that a guy would want to win badly enough to make a promposal.” She pointed at Devon. “And you’re going to help me find it.”

  “I am?” Devon just shrugged. “Okay, sure. I am.”

  Bryn turned to Emma and Cass. “You two are going to start putting together a campaign—we’ve got to publicize the promposal contest in a big way. There’s no time to waste. We need posters and an ad on the school website and announcements on the school’s radio station and, well, whatever.”

  “What about me?” Abby asked. “Everyone got an assignment but me.”

  Bryn’s brow creased. “Well, you hang with guys a lot . . . I mean, doing track and stuff. Find out what it is that a guy really wants—”

  “I can tell you what a guy really wants.” Devon gave them all a sly look. She knew that she was playing a role here, but it was a role she still liked to play sometimes. Maybe just for the shock value.

  “Oh, Devon.” Emma rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah.” Bryn gave Devon a warning look. “Tone it down, girlfriend.”

  “So back to my assignment?” Abby waited.

  “Find out what might get a guy to consider doing a promposal,” Bryn told Abby. “You know, like electronics, or sports tickets, or the hottest new game, or a cool bike, or snowboard . . . you know, guy stuff.”

  Abby looked slightly perplexed. “Seriously? I’m supposed to go around asking guys about stuff like that? Really?”

  “I don’t know how you do it.” Bryn sounded slightly irritated. “Just do it, okay?”

  After the meeting wound down, Bryn invited Devon to go with her to approach some of the local businesses. “I want to check the climate,” she told Devon as they walked down Main Street. “To see which people might be open to making donat
ions. Not just for the prize, but for prom too.” She pulled a flyer out of her oversized bag and handed it to Devon. “We’ll make our appeal and leave these behind.”

  As they walked, Devon studied the flyer. With a sweet photo of Sofia and a short description of the Northwood Academy Prom Fund-Raiser, it was fairly compelling. The idea of hitting up businesses for donations wasn’t exactly something Devon felt comfortable with. However, she watched Bryn do it—seeing how Bryn introduced herself, shook the person’s hand, just exuded confidence. It was like being in some kind of training camp.

  Finally as they were going into the town’s biggest sporting goods store, Bryn handed a flyer to Devon. “You do it this time.”

  Devon battled her nerves as she asked for the store manager. But when he came out, she imitated Bryn by introducing herself and firmly shaking his hand. Next she handed him the flyer, explaining how young Sofia Ruez was very ill but having a struggle to get the best medical treatment for her particular type of leukemia. “The students at Northwood Academy plan to donate all proceeds from this year’s prom to Sofia’s medical expenses. But in order to do this we need the help of some local sponsors. We’re inviting grocers and restaurants to participate by donating food for the dinner, and the Party Place to donate decorations and, well, things like that.” She paused to catch her breath. “Naturally, any merchandise donations will be tax deductible too.” She smiled brightly at the middle-aged man.

  “But this is a sporting goods store.” He creased his brow and rested his hand on the seat of a shiny red mountain bike. “What would we possibly have to donate for your prom?”

  Devon looked down at the expensive bike beneath his hand. “Well, the big goal of this fund-raiser is to get as many people as possible to attend prom. Unfortunately, the guys at our school are dragging their feet just as much as they’re clinging to their wallets.”

  He laughed. “Not surprising.”

  “So we’ve come up with this plan,” Bryn jumped in, explaining to him about the promposal contest and how they hoped it would motivate the guys to get on board. “Especially if there’s a really good prize.” Bryn stroked the handlebar.

  “Wow, you girls really are clever,” he told them. “Maybe you should major in marketing after high school.”

  Bryn nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “So you’re thinking I should donate this bike for your ‘promposal’ prize?”

  “Would you?” Devon stared at him with wide eyes.

  He looked down at the bike then back at the girls. “Tell you what, I’ll think about it. And I’ll run it by the big boss. Maybe we can work out a deal. Our prize in exchange for some promotion at your school?”

  “Absolutely!” Bryn eagerly agreed. “We’d be happy to do that.”

  “And it’s really important that we know about this as soon as possible,” Devon added. “We want to put pictures of the prize out there for everyone to see. In posters and on the website and, well, just everywhere.”

  “Yeah,” Bryn added. “It’s such a pretty bike. It’ll look cool on posters.”

  “I see there are phone numbers here.” He pointed to the flyer. “And you’ve listed your school advisor too. That’s all good.” He grinned at them. “I like you girls. And I like your gumption. Mostly I like that you’re putting yourselves out there to help your friend’s little sister.” He shook both their hands again. “We’ll see what we can do, okay?”

  “Okay,” they both said simultaneously.

  “I’ll try to get an answer to you by early next week.”

  Bryn and Devon thanked him, and as they exited the store, Devon felt a strange lightness in her feet.

  “That was really fun,” she told Bryn once they were outside. “I was kinda scared at first, but then I just started talking and it was really pretty cool.”

  “You were great,” Bryn told her.

  “I just tried to imitate you.”

  “Yeah, but that was quick thinking to suggest the bike for a prize.”

  “He seemed to really like the idea of free advertising.”

  “Yeah. I think he might actually give us that bike too.”

  “Did you see the price of it?” Devon wouldn’t admit this to Bryn, but her mom had paid just a little more than that for a used car last year. Not a very good car, but at least it ran.

  “I know!” Bryn nodded. “I actually had no idea a bike could cost that much.”

  “Do you think the bike would motivate guys to do promposals?”

  “I’m sure it would motivate some of them. The stubborn tightwads.”

  “Hey, I have another idea,” Devon said suddenly. “What if part of the promposal prize was to get a pair of free tickets to the prom too? That’s one way to keep them from complaining about the cost. We tell them that everyone has a chance to win their tickets for free—if they come up with the best promposal.”

  “Excellent!” Bryn reached up to slap palms with Devon. “Now let’s just hope we get that bike.”

  As Bryn drove them home, Devon checked her phone to see that Cassidy had left her a text message inviting her to youth group again. Devon’s first impulse was to text back—no thanks. But there was something in her that was still curious . . . something that was nagging her to go again. And she was curious about Sam too. Something about what she’d said last week had sort of stuck with Devon. Maybe it was because of the similarities of their stories.

  “Cassidy is nagging me to go to youth group with her.” Devon tried to sound uninterested, just to see how Bryn would react.

  “Uh-huh.” Bryn stopped for a light.

  “Do you ever go to youth group?”

  “Yeah. Abby and I go to the one at our church. I mean, not all the time, but sometimes . . . Anyway, we used to. It’s a pretty small group. Nothing like the one at Cassidy and Emma’s church. Sometimes I wish I went to their church just so I could go to their youth group.”

  “Really?” Without thinking too hard, Devon keyed in her answer. OK. Even as she hit Send, she questioned herself. Still, it wasn’t like she was making some big kind of lifetime commitment here. She was simply curious, that was all. Besides, there were boys there. And the youth pastor guy had promised that the guys and girls wouldn’t be breaking into separate groups tonight. What could it hurt to go again?

  9

  Emma chewed on the end of her paintbrush as she studied the acrylic painting she’d spent most of the afternoon working on. It was her first attempt at Impressionism—trying to capture light and color in the form of a bouquet of spring wildflowers that she’d gathered on her way home from the DG meeting earlier today. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but right now it was looking pretty messy. Fortunately the acrylic paints dried quickly and she could layer on more colors later if necessary.

  “Hey, Em, what’s up?” Cassidy said from behind her.

  Emma jumped in surprise. “Thanks for scaring me half to death.”

  “Sorry. I knocked on the front door and no one answered.”

  “Mom’s out with her girlfriends tonight, showing off her pictures of the LA trip.”

  “I thought you wanted a ride to youth group tonight.”

  Emma looked at her alarm clock by her bed. “Kinda early, aren’t you?”

  “We have to pick up Devon too.” Cassidy peered curiously at the painting. “That’s, uh, interesting . . . What is it?”

  Emma rolled her eyes as she pointed her paintbrush toward the mason jar of wildflowers. “That.”

  “Oh, yeah, I guess I can see it.” Cassidy frowned at Emma. “But your paintings are usually, uh, a lot better than this. No offense.”

  “It’s supposed to be Impressionism.”

  “Uh-huh . . . ?”

  “Devon told me that she likes Impressionism—or at least she likes Vincent van Gogh. And it’s her birthday next week. I wanted to make a painting for her.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Cassidy still looked unconvinced. “I hope she likes it. But i
f you ever make me a birthday painting, just paint it normal, okay?”

  Emma laughed. “It’s a deal.”

  “What day is her birthday?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Well, we should tell Jarrod. You know how he likes to get everyone to sing his goofy Happy Birthday song.”

  “Yeah, that should embarrass her nicely.” Emma looked more closely at Cassidy now. Her long dark-brown hair was all smooth and sleek, and she was wearing her best jeans and boots, topped with a pretty green pullover that actually showed off her curves. She even had on earrings. “You look really nice, Cass. Any reason to get all spiffed up?”

  Cassidy shrugged like it was no big deal. “I just felt like it. I mean, last week, I went to youth group looking like a slob—or according to Devon, Pippi Longstocking.” She told Emma about her messy braids and black rubber garden boots. “Anyway, I got to thinking about how the guys are all anti-prom right now . . . and Lane will probably be there tonight and I thought, hey, why not put my best foot forward.” She made a sheepish grin. “I’m sure Devon and Bryn would approve.”

  “I’m sure they would.” Emma looked down at her own paint-smeared shirt and jeans. “Maybe I should up my game a little too.”

  “Well, you have time.” Cassidy sat down on Emma’s bed. “We don’t need to get Devon for about twenty minutes.”

  As Emma dressed, she told Cassidy about Felicia’s latest phone call. “She’s spending the night in Sofia’s room at the pediatric center tonight. The room’s set up with an extra bed so that a family member can stay over. I guess Felicia’s mom’s worn out after being there all week. She’ll stay in the hotel with Felicia’s dad.”

  “It must be hard. So how’s Sofia doing?”

  “Sounds like she’s starting to feel pretty sick from the chemotherapy treatments.” Emma tugged on a clean pair of jeans. “Felicia says it’s like having a really bad case of the flu.”