Tucker shrugs, totally chill and completely unmoved. “We could do a breakfast like Mrs. Leonard said.”

I shake my head. “That’s not inventive. Me winning this thing is a long shot, but I’ll die before I’m boring. What would you want if you were a teacher?”

He laughs. “A day off.”

That gets a slight smile from me. “Fair, but I don’t think we have that kind of authority. What about, like, a spa day?”

“That sounds really awkward. I use three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, so I don’t think that’s really my speed.”

And admittedly, outside of the occasional sheet mask, I’m no pro either. “Well, do you have any ideas for the legacy project at least?”

He shrugs. “I could build something. Like a bench. Or a planter box.”

“Are you trying to flex on me? I can build something with a piece of wood and four legs too.”

Tucker watches the road disappear behind us through his rearview mirror and smiles. “I didn’t say you weren’t good with your hands.”

“Not explicitly.”

“And I didn’t want to end up with Melissa, for the record.”

“Good for you. I don’t really keep up with all the straight romance gossip. Sue me.” I can’t tell if he’s trying to say he doesn’t mind that we’re partnered up, but honestly, I don’t care. My time left in high school is limited and I’m sure not wasting it trying to be friends with some guy who can’t even follow through on a class project.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.

“Can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“Was the video real? Did you really want to audition for that show?”

“Does it matter?” I ask as the truck chugs up the hill.

“To me it does.”

I swallow audibly. I’m not going to give this guy an inch. “I think I love fried chicken more than my family.”

He leans back and takes a whiff of our fried surroundings. “I would die for two things: a real-life Ewok and fried okra.”

“Wow, does the student body know you’re a nerd?” I park in front of the trailer office and hit the e-brake.

“Star Wars is pop culture. In fact, I would say that being a nerd is mainstream.” He shakes his head. “It’s not like all those old movies make it out to be. You’re not just a jock or a nerd or a rebel or hot. There’s a whole group of guys on the football team who straight-up throw down every weekend over tabletop games. Melissa, my ex? Yeah, she’s captain of the dance team, but she’s also president of the regional National Honor Society and she kicks my ass at Red Dead Redemption 2 and Call of Duty.”

“That’s different. Those people are popular people drifting into nerd territory. They’re already cool, so whatever they do is cool—but show me the kid on the debate team who tries to join the football team without catching any flak, or the fat gay boy running for prom queen who’s not a joke. Show me those people making it and I’ll believe your little theory about cliques and social food chains being a thing of the past.” I hand him a bag of food. “Let’s go.”

We take the food inside and Tucker goes to let all the other guys know that dinner has arrived.

I sit inside Dad’s office and we eat chicken wings over paper towels.

“So, this prom thing . . . Mom says you and Hannah are sticking with it. You know, buddy, I’m a small-town guy, but that doesn’t mean I’m small-minded.”

“I know, Dad.”

He bites into his second wing and takes a swig of unsweetened iced tea. “But that doesn’t mean other people in this town aren’t. And I don’t want what those people might say or do to stop you from being who you’re meant to be.”

I put my chicken down. It’s so hard to look people in the eye when they’re so sincere like this. It makes my chest tighten and my eyes water. “Thanks, Dad.”

“But I also don’t want you to do anything that could hurt you. Or . . . not everyone is good, son.” He looks out the window at the setting sun on his work site.

He’s scared for me. And I don’t want him to be. Except that I’m scared for me too sometimes. “Dad, I . . . me and Clem both . . . we still have to live our lives, and right now that means saying a big F-you to everyone who tried to humiliate me and running for prom queen. If me being prom queen is such a joke, what better way to get back at them than to take myself seriously.”

He wraps his hand around my arm. “How’d I get such a badass kid?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “A wait list. Is that how these things work?”

He chuckles. “You better head home. And tell your mother her dinner was delicious.”

I stand. “Could you give me a ride back down that cursed hill? You already owe me a new pair of shoes.”

“Only if you do one thing for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Talk to Clem. It’s got your mom real upset, and when your mother is unhappy—”

“We’re all unhappy.”

Fourteen

Mr. Higgins wrestles with the remote, trying to power down the TV after morning announcements. “Damn thing,” he mutters.

There’s a knock at the door as it opens a crack and Kyle pokes his head inside. “Mr. Higgins, I’m so sorry to interrupt. This will only take a moment.”

“Sure.” Mr. Higgins tosses the remote on his desk. “Did the office need something?”

Kyle nods, and pulls an office memo from his pocket. “I’ve got a message.” He unfolds the paper and begins to read. “Alex Wu, you received a phone call. It was from my heart.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a long velvet rectangular box.

Beside me, Alex gasps, and a few rows over, Tucker fidgets in his seat while others chuckle and some let out a choir of awws.

Kyle steps forward and pops the box open. Inside are two matching teal bow ties. “Will you go to prom with me?”

Alex nods furiously and jumps up to hug Kyle, but before their embrace can turn into a kiss, Mr. Higgins says, “All right, all right. Very cute. Everyone, save the promposals for passing periods and after school.”

Kyle backpedals toward the door. “Sorry, sorry!” He waves to Alex and blows him a kiss.

Well, that was sickeningly cute. Despite how annoying I find Kyle, even I have to admit that matching bow ties was a pretty damn precious idea.

At lunch, me, Clem, and Hannah head to Harpy’s and I claim our semicircle booth in the corner. By the time I got home last night, Clem had locked herself in her room and, from what I could tell, was on the phone with Hannah, so we haven’t talked like I told Dad we would. Of course, we’re talking, but we have this ability to table our fights until the right time. Maybe it’s from living in such close quarters our whole lives.

Kyle and Alex walk into Harpy’s, their fingers intertwined, and sit down with us.

“Okay,” says Clem, popping a fry in her mouth. “Give me every adorable detail.”

The two of them lean toward her and begin to paint a scene, shamelessly embellishing.