The Gay Girl's Guide to Ruining Prom Read online

  Wes spotted me first. He pressed his mouth into a thin line and glanced away quickly, unable to hold eye contact. I took some satisfaction in knowing that he still felt as guilty as I did. I checked my phone again and typed out a quick text to Skylar: “Where are you? Please tell me you and your girl aren’t just skipping out on the dance you made me come to.”

  I looked up and flinched. Alex was headed straight for me, and Wes was saying something as he hurried to follow her, no doubt trying to convince her to leave me alone. She settled in front of me and I started wishing for the return of the loud EDM music, if only just to drown her out.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” she snarked, folding her arms across her chest. “Not so surprised to see you here alone. Did your date ditch you?”

  “I don’t have a date,” I said evenly. Wes tugged weakly at Alex’s arm, but she ignored him.

  “Wow. You, without a date? That’s a first.”

  “We go to the same school, Alex,” I sighed. “Can we not do this for once? Wes clearly wants to keep dancing with you. You’re ruining his night. Right, Wes?”

  Wes shifted his eyes to the floor the instant I looked at him and mumbled something that seemed like a shy affirmation. Whatever it was, it earned him a glare from Alex.

  “You should be nicer to your boyfriend,” I added, and got a little bit of a thrill when Wes looked even more ashamed.

  Alex scoffed at me, “Oh, wow. Coming from you?”

  “We weren’t dating,” I reminded her, and dreaded what I knew I had to say next. There was nothing I could say that would fix things between us that I hadn’t already tried, and twisting the knife was the only way I’d ever gotten her to leave me alone. “It was just…fun. So.”

  Alex stared at me hard for several seconds, until it was my turn to look away. Then she laughed dryly, said, “You’re such a coward, Zoey,” and reached for Wes’s hand to tug him back to the dance floor. He sent me another apologetic look on his way there and I made sure I recovered quickly enough to roll my eyes at him.

  “That was a blast,” I said to no one and went back to my phone.

  I had a new text from Skylar: “I’m not coming.”

  As I was still trying to process the message, a hand tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see Skylar’s brother standing behind me. His date was several feet away at the punch bowl.

  “Devon,” I greeted him, noting that he looked a little uncomfortable. “Hey. Where’s Skylar? She just texted me that she’s not coming.”

  “Something went wrong with her date,” he said. “She seemed pretty upset. She’s with Mom at the house. We tried to get her to come along, but she didn’t want to.”

  I stood up, already reaching into my purse for my car keys. “What happened?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “She wouldn’t say.”

  “Alright. I’m gonna head back; will your mom let me in?”

  “Of course, but are you sure you don’t wanna stay? I’m sure Ash would lend you a few dances,” he suggested good-naturedly, gesturing over his shoulder to his date. “We’re just friends.”

  “Thanks, but I only came here for Skylar in the first place, so it’s not exactly killing me to ditch. I’m gonna go be with her.”

  He gave me a warm look, and then patted me on the arm as he stepped aside. “Well, hatred of Prom or not, you’re a good friend.”

  I forced a laugh as I moved past him. “I’m glad someone thinks so.”

  Saying that Skylar was a mess was putting it mildly. Her mom answered the door looking like a deer in headlights, then audibly sighed with relief when she saw it was me. One short explanation about how Skylar had locked herself in her room and wouldn’t talk to anyone later and I was alone, gently asking Skylar if I could come in as I listened to muffled sobs through the door.

  “It’s Zoey,” I told her. “Your mom’s downstairs.”

  “I don’t wanna talk to anyone,” I managed to make out through the bawling.

  “I can’t hear you, Sky,” I lied. “Let me in and we can talk, okay?”

  “It’s embarrassing!” she sobbed back.

  “Like you haven’t seen me embarrass myself before?” I joked. “Remember when I forgot to do that poetry assignment our sophomore year and just wound up reciting song lyrics in front of our class on the fly instead? And everyone recognized them, even Mrs. Hopkins?”

  I heard her sniffle through the door. “Yeah…”

  “So just tell me what happened and whose ass I have to kick. That’s what best friends are for.”

  She was silent for a moment, and then I heard muffled footsteps making their way to the door. Skylar unlocked it and pulled it open, and I was met with a much less flattering version of the best friend I’d left earlier: her hair was completely frazzled and falling out of its bobby pins, her mascara and eyeliner had been smeared, and her face was red and puffy.

  “Chelsea’s…” was all she said, before she burst into tears again and collapsed into my arms.

  I caught her and rubbed at her back, trying not to buckle under her weight. “Why don’t we sit down and then you can tell me everything?” I suggested, guiding her to her bed. Once she was seated, I closed the bedroom door and then joined her amongst a mass of crumpled tissues. I watched Skylar take another tissue from the box and dabbed at her eyes and nose. “Something happened with Chelsea?” I guessed.

  She nodded and wordlessly tossed me her cell phone, tears beginning to pool in her eyes again. I saw the newest conversation was the text from me, but below that was Chelsea’s name. With Skylar’s permission, I read the conversation between them:

  Skylar: “Almost ready? We’re heading over soon.”

  Chelsea: “I can’t make it tonight. I’m sorry.”

  Skylar: “Omg, is something wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

  Chelsea: “I just don’t think this is a good idea. It’s better if we stop seeing each other.”

  Skylar: “What? Are you serious?”

  Skylar: “You’re seriously ditching me on Prom night?”

  Chelsea: “I’m really really sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Skylar: “How about telling me why?”

  Skylar: “Hello?”

  “She didn’t answer when I called her, and I haven’t heard back from her,” Skylar explained. She seemed to have reined herself in a little, though she was still sniffling. “Maybe she blocked my number.”

  “Skylar, this is insane,” I told her, handing her phone back. “She’s insane. I’m so sorry.”

  “Who breaks up with someone on Prom night?” She shook her head. “I mean…we weren’t officially dating, but we spent so much time together. I just thought…I thought she liked me.”

  “You dodged a bullet,” I assured her. I was trying to keep calm for her sake, but inside I could feel anger coursing through me. Skylar wasn’t like me; she was naïve and inexperienced, and it was my job to protect her. “There’s no excuse for this.”

  Skylar seemed not to have heard me. “Now I just keep thinking back…what if I was too clingy, or she wanted someone prettier, or—”

  “Stop it,” I interjected quickly, sensing she was going to work herself back up into tears again. I gripped her shoulders to make sure she heard what I said next. “You’re beautiful, and anyone would be lucky to be your girlfriend. People like her aren’t worth being with, okay? She’s just a bad person.”

  Skylar’s bottom lip trembled and she reached for another tissue. I released her. “You broke Alex’s heart and you’re not a bad person,” she pointed out.

  I tried to ignore the way my stomach dropped at the reminder. “I wouldn’t have ditched Alex on Prom night. You put so much effort into making tonight special. She could’ve at least given you the courtesy of going to Prom with you first. There’s a way to break up and still be respectful.”

  “I wish she hadn’t done it at all.” She wiped at her eyes and reached for yet another tissue.

  �
��I know. This is where it pays to believe in karmic retribution. You can only be a bad person for so long before it comes back to bite you, right?” I forced a smile, hoping it would be contagious, but she didn’t return it.

  “I guess so.” She laid down on her bed and let out a heavy sigh, curling into a ball. “Can you stay over tonight? Your parents won’t be mad, will they?”

  “They won’t stop me,” I promised. “Of course I’ll stay. And in the morning, we’ll go grab pancakes from your favorite diner and then go see a movie. You can forget all about Chelsea.”

  “Okay.” She heaved another sigh and closed her eyes, facing me. “I just hate her so much. We’d been planning this for weeks. Who does this?”

  “Sociopaths,” I said. “Seriously, forget about her. You’ll be better off.”

  I laid down next to her and didn’t say anything else. Eventually, Skylar’s breathing evened out and I knew she’d fallen asleep.

  As I sifted through her dresser to try to find pajamas to change into, I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between seventh grade and now to turn the girl I’d known in middle school into the kind of asshole who’d dump her date on Prom night without even an explanation.

  A curious part of me wanted very, very badly to find out.

  2

  Skylar, predictably, did not forget about Chelsea. She did, however, shift from sad to angry over the course of one night. My sweet best friend had just been introduced to heartbreak for the first time, and by the time we were eating pancakes together at Smokey’s the next day, she was already plotting revenge. It was her way of coping, and I was happy to help her deal. Within reason, of course.

  “I know where she lives. We could mess with her stuff or something.”

  “Like, breaking and entering? That’s illegal.” I shook my head in disbelief at her.

  “What about messing with her car?”

  “Also illegal.”

  She snapped her fingers, struck by inspiration. “A couple of days after we started flirting, she sent me a picture of herself in a bra. We could put it online.”

  “That might also be illegal, but I’m not totally sure.” I paused. “Wait, she sent you that photo how long after you first spoke to her?”

  “Like, two days. It was awesome.” I raised my eyebrows at her, and she blinked back at me. “Is that…not normal?”

  I shook my head, and, skeptical now, asked, “How come I never met Chelsea before Prom night?” I’d assumed before that Skylar had just wanted to keep something special to herself for a while. But now I recalled that Skylar had met multiple friends of Chelsea’s, and yet the reverse wasn’t even close to true.

  Skylar considered the question for a moment. “Well…I mentioned that she should meet my friends sometime and she said she would, but it just never really worked out that way. We kinda just wound up hanging out with hers instead.”

  “And you didn’t think that was weird?” I asked, confused.

  She looked distressed. “I don’t know…I was just happy to spend time with her. And honestly, I didn’t exactly push her to meet you. I was more…” She paused, suddenly guilty, and admitted, “Well, I thought maybe she could meet Alex and Wes first. I sort of didn’t mention you. Ever.”

  I gaped at her, offended. “What? Why?”

  “Because you’re…you!” she groaned. “What if she decided she liked you better?”

  “Skylar, that wouldn’t have happened, and I would’ve never gone there,” I promised her. “I knew how much you liked her.”

  “Didn’t stop you with Violet Cavanaugh,” she grumbled.

  I hid my embarrassment by dabbing at my mouth with a napkin, and then said, “That wasn’t my best moment, yes, but it was different. You weren’t together. Or almost together. You know what I mean.” I sat up straighter and cleared my throat. “Anyway, this is about Chelsea. A girl who was comfortable with sending you a photo like that days after you met, didn’t make an effort to meet your friends, wouldn’t call herself your girlfriend, and committed to Prom but then canceled last minute.” I gave her a sympathetic look as her face fell with realization. “Something tells me she wasn’t as invested as she made you think she was.”

  “She never wanted to be my girlfriend,” Skylar realized. “So that was why she canceled on me last night.” I furrowed my eyebrows, wanting more of an explanation, and she continued, “I went to one of her friends for advice on asking her to be my girlfriend at Prom. I wanted to make sure I didn’t screw it up. I bet Chelsea found out what I was planning, realized I wanted a relationship, and instead of turning me down at the end of the dance, she ditched me.” She leaned back and let out a groan. “Wow. And I thought I was special. I’m so stupid!”

  “You’re not stupid; you’re just inexperienced,” I told her. “The lesbian population should be thankful you wasted two months of her time and spared someone else the pain of dealing with her.” I reached across the table to squeeze her hand, feeling guilt creep into my chest. At the time, just knowing that Chelsea was the girl Skylar’d been seeing was enough for me to sign off and let them be, but if I’d been a better friend and paid closer attention instead of losing myself in my own sea of girl drama, I was sure I’d have noticed the red flags that Skylar had been too new to dating and too lovestruck to miss. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She’s still a horrible person,” I added, trying to reassure her.

  “Yeah, you’re telling me. She led me on!” She shook her head, newly infuriated, and declared, “We’re keying her car,” already halfway out of her seat. I reached out and hastily tugged her back down.

  “Wait a second. I know she deserves it, but risking a juvie record probably isn’t the best idea.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” she asked. “You’ve never had your heart broken, so can you blame me for thinking you won’t understand what this feels like?”

  I sighed, trying to ignore the way her assumption made my heart sink. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you do something stupid and get caught, not only will you not feel better, you’ll be worse off than you are now. Maybe it’s best to take the high road.”

  Skylar looked offended that I’d even suggested such a thing. “Screw that. I’m getting back at her. If I can’t break her stuff, I’ll just have to find something else she cares about.”

  “Like what?” I asked, frustrated.

  She was quiet for a moment, thinking. And then she lit up again. “Her friends! She might not care about the girls she hooks up with, but she cares about them. What if I find a way to break up her friends? She told me they’ve been dating since freshman year.”

  “That’s cruel, Skylar; c’mon.” I shook my head. “Don’t mess with her friends. They didn’t do anything.”

  “They told her what I was planning at Prom.”

  “But Chelsea’s the one who wasn’t honest with you about not wanting anything serious, and she still agreed to go and then made the decision to cancel on you. I still don’t think you should go the revenge route, but if you’re committed, don’t go after her friends.”

  “Well, physical damage apparently gets me a record, according to you, and my best chance at emotional damage is through her friends,” Skylar huffed out. “I can’t break her heart. She clearly isn’t as into me as I thought she was.”

  “The best revenge is success, right?” I suggested. “Show her you’re better off without her.”

  “Cut that Hallmark crap out,” Skylar retorted, rolling her eyes at me. I deflated and heaved another sigh, watching her grow pensive again. “She broke my heart, so it’d only be fair to return the favor. If only…” She met my gaze from across the table and started to smile, “…I knew someone who had experience with girls…”

  “No,” I interjected hastily, already seeing exactly where she was going with this. “No way.”

  She grinned at me. “…who’s practically infamous at our school for meaningless hookups…”

  “Skylar, I’m not doing it,” I ins
isted. “I’m sorry. You just have to let some time pass and—”

  “Oh, c’mon!” She was getting excited now. “You came out to the whole school right after you broke Alex’s heart and there were still girls lining up to date you. Then you broke their hearts, too! You’re perfect! You can beat her at her own game!”

  “Okay, I did not break their hearts,” I argued. “I was honest about wanting to keep things casual! I’m nothing like Chelsea.”

  “I’m not saying you’re exactly that same; I’m saying that if anyone I know could turn the tables on a girl like her, it’d be you. You’re pretty, you have the experience, and you don’t even have Instagram or anything! She doesn’t know that we’re friends, so she wouldn’t suspect a thing!”

  “Basically, you want me to stoop to her level,” I pointed out. “You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

  “Not if she deserves it!” Skylar insisted. “Look, at least give it a chance and find out if you’re her type. In fact, I could probably make you into her type. Then you turn on the charm, she actually starts to get attached, and then boom!” She smacked the table and I jumped. “You do to her what she did to me!”

  “Ditch her at her Prom?” I joked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Yes! Her school’s Prom isn’t for another eight weeks!” She was grinning now. “It’s perfect! She messed with me for two months, and now you could give her a taste of her own medicine!”

  I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Jesus Christ. You already know there’s no way I’m doing this.”

  She groaned and reached across the table to grip my hands. “Look at me, Zoey. C’mon.” Grudgingly, I forced myself to meet her eyes. “Who stuck by you last fall, even after you completely screwed over the only other female friend who put up with you?”

  “You,” I sighed.

  “And which friend continued to stick by you even after you got drunk and hooked up with the girl she’d had a crush on for an entire semester?”

  “You…”

  “And who, after watching her best friend take for granted about five different girls from our school, had to dip into another high school’s lady pond to finally find someone to date who that best friend hadn’t already been out with, only to then get crushed by the first girl she was finally really, really into?”