When Callie passes to Hannah, she playfully kicks her boot.

“You know her?” I ask. Callie has a mean-girl reputation, and last I checked, she was on the dance team or flag-twirling crew or whatever. Definitely not the kind of girl I’d expect Hannah to be friendly with.

Hannah crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess you could say we’re friends.”

“Full of surprises,” I tell her.

“Flip to the second page of your packets,” says Mrs. Leonard. “There you will find the full list of expectations.”

PROM COURT TO-DO LIST

- 8 service hours to the approved nonprofit of your choosing

- Faculty appreciation project

- Legacy project

- Feature and interview with school TV team

- Graduation eligible

Bekah Cotter raises her hand. “Um, hi.” She turns around from her seat on the front row. “Hi, y’all. This is so neat.” She faces Mrs. Leonard again. “I was wondering if you could explain the two projects.”

“Ah, yes,” says Mrs. Leonard. “Each boy will be randomly paired with a girl and—”

Hannah’s arm shoots up. “I think you mean person? Or, like, king nominee and queen nominee?”

Mrs. Leonard’s brow furrows for a moment as she thinks about that. “Well, it is typically one king and one queen nominee . . . and, well, this year, we . . . well . . .” She motions to me and Hannah. “We have nontraditional nominees, so I suppose . . . okay . . . so.”

I can see her brain doing somersaults, and honestly I can’t blame her. I know that gender is fluid and that there’s more than just male and female, but the actual reality of how Hannah and I fit into all this is . . . a little hard to define, especially for a small town.

“Let me start again,” says Mrs. Leonard. “Each king nominee will be paired with a queen nominee to complete a project, which you will both work on together.”

Callie groans. “A group project? Really? We can’t even choose our partners?”

“Yes, a group project,” confirms Mrs. Leonard. “And partners will be randomly chosen. Now, obviously this does not mean you’ll each be running for king and queen as a duo, but you will work together. Staff appreciation is a project you’ll complete as a thank-you to the staff on behalf of the graduating class. We’ve had breakfasts in the past. Car washes were another popular idea. Be creative. Your legacy project is a campus improvement you do on behalf of your class as a gift to underclassmen and future students.”

“Like a construction project?” asks Bryce Dooley with disgust in his voice.

“What’s wrong with construction work?” I ask. My dad might be the boss of his own company now, but not too long ago, he was working on other people’s construction crews under the hot beating sun, and he still spends lots of time out there with his crew.

Bryce turns around. “I’m not really a fan of getting my hands dirty.”

I roll my eyes. “And people call me a queen.”

“All right, all right,” says Mrs. Leonard. “Quiet down. The legacy project can be a physical gift, like planting a garden. But it doesn’t have to be. It can also be something that changes the culture on campus.”

“Like what?” Mitch asks.

“Starting a new club or tradition. One year, a cheerleader wrote a new cheer.”

“How groundbreaking,” says Melissa, and Callie laughs.

Mrs. Leonard takes two mixing bowls around the room and has the queen nominees pick from a bowl.

Callie reaches her hand into the bowl and holds her breath. Admittedly the stakes are high for Callie. Not only is Bryce, her ex-boyfriend, nominated, but so is her current boyfriend. She cringes as she reaches into the bowl and mutters a few prayers under her breath. Carefully, she unfolds her paper and sighs with relief as she sinks against Mitch’s shoulder.

“You sure this isn’t rigged?” asks Bryce.

Next up is Bekah. She unfolds her paper and reads, “Hannah.”

She turns around and smiles, and Hannah gives her a thumbs-up.

Next is my turn. Either way you slice it, this sucks. Bryce or Tucker. Both are my own personal nightmare fuel, but at least Bryce doesn’t pretend to be anything he’s not.

I stick my hand in the bowl and close my eyes, as if that could possibly help anything, and let my fingers dance between the two remaining slips of paper.

“Waylon, you’re going to have to choose eventually,” Hannah says.

She’s right. I pluck a piece of paper from the bowl with all the drama and flair deserving of a moment that is as extremely life or death as this one is.

I hand it to Hannah. “Read it.”

She releases a long sigh. “Tucker.”

Shit. I can’t even make myself turn around to look at him.

“Howdy, partner,” he mumbles from behind me.

I briefly sneer at him over my shoulder.

“Well,” says Mrs. Leonard. “That leaves Melissa and Bryce. Prom is three weeks away, people. We will have weekly check-in meetings and I’ll be speaking with each of your academic advisers to confirm your grade eligibility, but that’s it for now. Put on those thinking caps and feel free to come by with questions any time you like. I’ll see y’all next Monday!”

After she’s done speaking, I wait for the room to clear before approaching her desk. “Mrs. Leonard?”

She looks up and smiles.

“You have excellent cheekbones.”

She touches her fingers to her face. “Well, thank you. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, I need to switch partners.”

Her smiles fades. “I’m sorry, but unless your partner is ineligible, there is no switching.”

I try another tactic. “Don’t you think I should be paired with a girl? Maybe I could switch with Hannah?” Way to throw a friend under the bus, but desperate times.

“Mr. Brewer, is it?” she asks. “Some things about prom court may be different this year, but one thing that is not changing is how I structure prom court.”

“But—”

She gathers her papers and slides them into her red patent leather purse. “If you’re going to run for queen, then do it all the way. What’s that saying? Go big or go home? Go big, Mr. Brewer. Go big.”

Thirteen

We live on the older side of Clover City in the kind of house that looks like it could be a dollhouse, with little shutters and a small porch. It’s tiny, but it’s enough room for the four of us, and even though Mom and Dad have come a long way since they first bought this place fifteen years ago, they both think it’s wasteful to get anything bigger. So, even though Dad owns his own business and has as many employees as Bryce Dooley’s dad at his car dealership empire. Dad doesn’t think that just because you can afford to have bigger and better things, you should.

I, however, find comfort in material possessions and refuse to feel ashamed of it. Dad swears I get it from Grammy.

Regardless, if I’d known I would be trudging through sharp gravel and mud to get to Dad’s construction site, I probably would not have worn my favorite teal crushed-velvet Doc Martens. Did I mention that it’s only the third week of April and already sweltering? This weather is really not speaking to my footwear choices, but I spend so much energy making sure I don’t stand out that I like to take advantage of wearing a few of my favorite pieces when I’m going places where I won’t see anyone from school.