Prom Diaries: Beauty and Beast meets Groundhog Day Read online

  I knew she worried. Her dad had left when she was little, her mom was all she had. Plus me. She’d always had me. I smiled, thinking that as maniacal as I was with Drake, she was that maniacal with me. She loved me fiercely, but, as the fiercely loved best friend, I’d learned it often came at a cost. She insisted that I run for vice president of student council, because she wanted to be president. She tried to coordinate our schedules every year, which was a blessing and a curse.

  Even though she was on the track team, I’d refused that, instead insisting my tennis was enough for me. The one thing we had in common, truly in common, was choir. We both loved to sing and she’d yielded the title of soloist to me a long time ago. We each had our own thing and our thing in common. It worked.

  “I took your keys out of your jacket pocket and I’m driving your car to your house right now.”

  I squeezed my eyes tighter and withheld telling her that I didn’t want her brand of coddling at the moment. “I’m really not feeling well. My head is pounding and I scraped my elbow when I fell.”

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  What had been meant to discourage her had only encouraged her even more.

  “No, Shay, I don’t think I can take you back right now.”

  “Oh, I don’t even want to tell you this, because I think it may feed your seriously perverse obsession, but Drake found me at lunch when I was headed to your car and offered me a ride back to school after I check on you.”

  Chapter 4

  “What?” I sat up in bed like I’d woken on Christmas morning. Santa had come and I definitely had to get out of bed right this second!

  “Don’t. Don’t. I swear, Lacy O’Connell, you can’t read anything into this. He’s not coming to ask you to prom, he’s not! My grams used to say that if you give a boy too much encouragement, they’ll run away. So don’t encourage him when we get there.”

  But I was already gliding out of my parent’s room, ignoring the dull ache at the back of my head, thinking about what my red curls would be doing, how unmanageable they probably clung all matted to my head. “Where are you? Why are you talking about your witchy dead grams?”

  “See. See!” She accused like a cop confirming a drug addict had been caught in a back alley. “I want you to lay back down. And just because my grams is dead and she was called a witch, doesn’t mean her words aren’t true.”

  “How far away are you?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She wouldn’t talk to me until I apologized for the witch comment. “You know I loved your grams.” I did. “Where are you?”

  She relented. “Two minutes.”

  Tell me exactly what he said.”

  I took a comb and slipped it through the top layer of my hair, then untangled the rest with my fingers. “What did he say – all of it?”

  “He came up to me at lunch when I was walking out the front of the building. He said he’d heard about you and that he would follow me and give me a ride back. He has Henry that Goth freak with him, too.”

  “What else?” I pushed all the black mascara under my eyes onto my finger and reached for my toothbrush. I may be sick, but my breath didn’t need to be disgusting.

  “Nothing,” she sounded mystified. “To be honest, I’m as shocked as you. Part of the reason I’ve discouraged your sick thing with him was that….well, look at him, he’s stuck up.”

  “He’s beautiful.” I murmured, walking through my front room and to the kitchen to pop another two Tylenol. “Just because he hasn’t lived here since we were born...”

  She hesitated. “No, that’s not it.” She snapped. “He and Henry ruin things.”

  “What are you talking about? You said that earlier and I have no idea what you even mean?”

  “You would not believe me if I told you,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, we’re here.” She clicked off.

  I saw her pull up in front of my house. Drake’s black truck pulled up. I laid back down on the couch, lambasting myself for not grabbing my lip gloss or chap stick, even though lip gloss might look fake, like I wasn’t really hurt. My mind whirled. My heart raced and my hands actually trembled. I know this wasn’t a Jane Austen movie, but yes, I was trembling.

  Shay let herself in and ran to me. Her breathiness and fluttering reminded me of the fact she’d self-diagnosed herself with ‘fear of abandonment’ issues last year. “Are you okay? Can I get you something? Water?”

  I opened my eyes and glanced past her to see if Drake and Henry were in the house yet.

  A knock sounded at the screen door.

  “Come in.” I said in the most sick, non-sick way I could, trying not to overplay it.

  Shay sat back into her hip, crossing her arms, all worry gone, replaced with mild annoyance.

  I shoved myself back, giving her a sideways look that she better not blow this. After all, I was hurt. I was just pumped full adrenaline at the moment.

  The door pushed forward and Drake stepped in. He flipped his hair out of his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes and, for the first time ever, he focused on my face and grinned.

  Henry walked in, but didn’t look at me. “Sup.” He shut the door quietly behind him.

  I was stunned. Completely taken off guard. I knew my eyes were fluttering and I did the only thing I could do, I fell back onto the couch pillows. “Hey,” I said softly.

  “I’ll get you some water and make you a sandwich.” Shay exited into the kitchen. “Since some of us do more than just show up.” She threw over her shoulder.

  For a second, I lay there, taking in the unbelievable fact that Drake Davis was in my living room. I couldn’t believe I’d only had my prom diary for one day—but it had worked. Clearly. When I realized I was staring, I scooted myself back and sat up. “Thanks for coming.” I paused. “I mean, to take Shay back.” I rolled my eyes and pushed away the nervous butterflies. “She worries, it’s…stupid.”

  Drake blinked and stepped forward, looking around the room. “She seems like a good friend.”

  I hadn’t expected this. “Yeah.” Nervously, I thought about how my house probably looked to him, all the different medical machines and discarded oxygen tanks. What could I say, cancer sucked. My father had refused to let anyone clean all of the equipment up. “Sorry about the mess.”

  He took another three steps into the room and sat in the chair next to me. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Henry walked in.

  I looked up at him, like it was the first time I’d seen him. He didn’t look as ‘Goth’ today. No white make up or anything, although, I think he might have had eyeliner on. He was taller than I’d thought. “Thanks for coming.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked bored. “I’ll go help the queen herself.” He paused next to Drake and gave him a look. “But we can’t stay that long.” His warning sounded stern.

  I watched as Henry hurriedly moved into the kitchen and once again I couldn’t believe Drake Davis sat in this room. I had nothing to say. Would he ask me? I cleared my throat and tried to think of something to say. “So what’s your secret?”

  “What?” he asked sharply.

  I regretted the question. I took a breath and wished Shay hadn’t left. I always asked dumb questions when I was nervous. My palms suddenly got sweaty. “I mean…I…”

  Before I could think of something else to say, he bent forward, his fingers lightly touching the back of my head. “You hit pretty hard, are you okay?”

  Our eyes met and I felt like he could see through me, into me, I felt bare and on fire all at the same time. Then, the smell of Irish Spring wafted through me and I knew exactly what his secret was.

  Chapter 5

  “It was you!” I accused.

  Shay bustled into the room. “Here ya go.” She plunked a ham sandwich on a plate into my lap and glared at Drake.

  Drake stood and gave me a fierce frown. “We have to go.”

  “That’s right,” Shay sneere
d at him. “You have to go.”

  I moved the sandwich to the couch and tried to stand. “You ran into me.”

  A puzzled look washed over Shay’s face and she glared back at Drake. “You ran into her?”

  Henry’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Drake’s eyes. Those blue, piercing, ocean-like eyes, the ones that were now close and intense stayed on me. He lifted his eyebrows and then gave Shay a look of defiance. “I couldn’t have bumped into her, I was nowhere in sight, was I Henry?”

  Shay flung her head to Henry, who covered a laugh, but then made his face serious. “That’s right, nowhere to be seen.”

  My heart raced.

  Drake turned back to me. “I hope you feel better.”

  The sincerity in his words stunned me. Crazy, crack fueled butterflies pulsed through my lower gut. I held his eyes and sensed something in them.

  “Get away,” Shay said, protectively shoving Drake’s shoulder.

  Drake looked at the shoulder she shoved, then leveled her with a grin. “You can’t touch me, that’s not the deal.”

  Every part of Shay tensed, like she was in battle. “You don’t dictate to me.”

  Henry pulled Drake by the shoulder, dragging him toward the door. “Tock’s ticking, time to go.”

  Drake was out the door before I could think, before I could breathe, before I could process what I now knew about him.

  I turned to Shay. “I don’t know how, but he ran into me.”

  The equivalent of some kind of major natural disaster you don’t see coming combined with the ensuing wreckage was the only way to describe how Shay looked at the moment. Her very green eyes were wide and her effortlessly long, blond curls were filled with static. She was crazed. “I hate them.”

  “What was that?”

  Her lips pinched into a line. “Nothing.”

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. I couldn’t deal with Shay and with…with whatever, in fact, had taken place between she and Drake. “Shay.”

  She shook one of my shoulders.

  I opened my eyes. “You just acted crazy, do you get that? What did he mean, ‘that wasn’t the deal?’ What deal did you make?”

  A loud honk came from the front of the house and I heard muffled rock music that quickly got louder. “Hey—queenie, we’re gonna be late!” Henry yelled.

  Shay had that look. That look she got when she had declared war.

  “Calm down.” I admonished.

  She stuck her face into mine. “You just need to stay away from Drake, do you hear me?” She pushed away and opened the front door. “I’ll see you at the meeting.”

  Chapter 6

  Dear Diary,

  I have the worst headache I think I’ve had in my entire life, but…he came over today.

  To. My. House.

  I found myself laying on the floor in the middle of the school hall and I felt something—some pressure on top of me, something that caused my fall, by ramming into me and something that holding me down. I had a distinct whiff of Irish Spring and then I heard the words, ‘Lacy, I’m sorry.’

  A male voice.

  I think Drake’s voice. Of course I am unsure because it was a whisper, but still.

  Then he came over to check on me. Score! He put his hand so softly next to my head. It reminded me of….

  Tears budded in my eyes.

  Of the way my mother used to check my head when I got hurt—with tenderness, care.

  My phone vibrated and I pulled my headphones off and saw a text message from Marc.

  How’s the head? I heard Drake and Henry came over?

  Terrific, now Shay was telling people.

  I texted Shay.

  Stop telling people stuff.

  Immediately she texted back. U didn’t even tell me you got hurt. I don’t like Drake or Henry. Stay away from them!

  Oh, brother. That’s how Shay was. If I didn’t tell her something and she found out from anybody else, including my father she acted like I’d purposely kept it hidden from her and she was completely on the outs of my life.

  I left my phone on my bed and wandered into my parent’s room. I climbed onto my mother’s side of the bed and pulled her picture off the bedside table. Then I immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  “Sweetheart.”

  My father’s soft hand was on my forehead, his voice a low cooing sound. “Lacy Lou, are you surviving?” He held his hand in place and the corners of his eyes crinkled more than usual.

  I opened my eyes. The pain had subsided, less sharp and more of a dull ache. I nodded and tried to sit up. I looked at the neon clock on the bedside table that read four-thirty.

  My father moved back, hovering between kneeling down on the bed and standing. “Should I take you to the hospital? I didn’t even think about you having a concussion.” He peered closer at my eyes. “I don’t think your pupils are dilated.”

  “I’m fine.” I pushed myself off the bed and paused only for a second to put the picture back.

  He cleared his throat and looked puzzled. “Umm, there’s someone here for you.”

  Shay, of course.

  He rubbed the top of his head and his eyebrows pushed up. “Drake Davis?”

  Excitement, anxiety, horror all passed through me at exactly the same moment. I rushed out of the bedroom and into the hall. Before I could duck into the bathroom to brush my hair, scrub my teeth, or fix the smeared mascara, he was there.

  He stood at the end of the hall.

  Ours eyes met. He had the same intense look from earlier. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and this time, there was a red rim around his eyes.

  Had he been worrying?

  More than any other feeling, the worry that he’d been worrying propelled me into the family room. “Hey.”

  He blinked and then tore his eyes away. “Hey.” He pulled his hands out of his pocket and gestured to the front door. “Can you go for a ride?”

  My heart thundered. Dad wouldn’t want to let me. It was an unspoken rule that if you stayed home from school because you were sick, you couldn’t go out to play with your friends. I also knew that I had to go. He was here to ask me to prom. He had to be.

  I held up a finger and rushed back to my parents’ room.

  My father sat on the bed, holding the same picture I had just put back. The one of my mother holding me as a baby. A smile on her face. Her red hair splattered over me as she held me out.

  “Dad.”

  He looked back to me.

  I thought of a surefire way that he would let me go. “Drake and I are in the same English Lit class and we have a report due tomorrow.” Which was a lie. “Can I go with him to the library for a bit to work on it?”

  He hesitated. “Mark and Shay both mentioned you had a student council meeting tonight. Something about prom?”

  I shrugged. “You know how Mr. Klam is, I have to get this done.” Another lie. I hated lying.

  My father studied me for a second, then nodded solemnly and turned back to the picture. “Be home by dinner.”

  “Okay.” I raced to the bathroom, fixing hair and make-up, brushing teeth, running back to my room and changing my shirt. It had peanut butter and jelly on it and I couldn’t have him exposed if he had a peanut allergy-right? Why was I even thinking that? I grabbed my school bag at the last second and rushed out, taking Drake by surprise.

  I waved him out the door and he took the cue and hurried with me to his truck. He opened the passenger side door and held it for me.

  He was a gentleman. Check.

  I slid in and tried to calm my very fast beating heart. He would ask me. He would ask me. I knew it. I could feel it.

  Drake got in and started the truck, not looking at me as he turned up Main Street. “Your head is feeling better?”

  “Yes.” I hadn’t even thought about my head. Granted, it was still aching, but it was much better.

  “Good.”

  “Where are we going?” I wasn’t that wo
rried about where we were going. I mean, did it cross my mind that he would take me somewhere, slice my neck and drop me off? No. Maybe it should. I know Shay would say it should, but it didn’t. I guess it did if I was even thinking any of this.

  “Hmm, didn’t you tell your father the library?” He glanced at me as he turned toward down the street toward the library.

  “Yeah.” That sounded so dumb now.

  “How come you don’t sound that excited about it?”

  A million thoughts flew through my mind. “I’m excited.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Really?” He said it like he was amused by it. “To go to the library?”

  But instead of turning into the library, he kept going straight. Honestly, I hadn’t been that far this way. Once, maybe, on some bike ride my parents had me do before they realized that bike riding wasn’t my thing.

  He flipped on the radio and electronically rolled the windows down. Chilly, spring air flooded the cab of the truck.

  Rock music blared out.

  How he listened to his music at this decibel was beyond me. Without thinking, I reached forward and clipped it off.

  He looked surprised and grinned. The beautiful lines of his jaw cut perfectly around his face. He winked at me. “I forgot you don’t like it that loud.”

  I frowned and scanned the perimeter to find out, exactly, where he was taking me. “Forgot what?”

  “Nothing.” He said too quickly.

  My heart picked up speed. How would he know that? “Okay.” I said it slowly.

  He pulled over to the side of the road, putting the truck in park and looking slightly dejected.

  “What?”

  “What?” he acted surprised again.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Do we have to be doing anything?”

  I quit the banter and stared into his tortured blue eyes. At least, what I thought were tortured. Must be tortured. He would ask me. This was it. Or…he would explain what had happened earlier in the hallway.

  “Hey.” He lifted his eyebrows and crossed his arms. He turned off the engine and turned fully in his seat to face me.