Prom Queen Perfect Read online

  I knew where she was going with this and raised a hand to stop her. “No, never in a million years will I ask Adam to dance with me.”

  “So, you do think Adam is the hottest boy at this party?” Christy grinned, ready to start pumping her fists in the air in triumph.

  “I never said that,” I said through clenched teeth.

  I didn’t even know where to start talking about the twisted cycle that happened to be my relationship with Adam. Before our conversation could spin off in an entirely different direction, I shrugged. “Fine, we’ll both ask the boys to dance. Happy?”

  We walked off in opposite directions, Christy toward Stephen and the impending death glares and me toward Adam and sure-fire rejection.

  “…and then he asked for my phone number and I told him that I, like, would never give it to such a loser,” I heard Cory say when I was only a few steps away from her and Adam. I almost laughed at the thought of him listening to her talk for more than ten seconds. He must’ve been dying for someone to rescue him. Over her shoulder, I raised my eyebrows at him, but he kept on ignoring me.

  God, this was going to be so embarrassing.

  “Cory, excuse me?” I tapped her on the shoulder. “I just need to talk to Adam for a sec. Is that okay?”

  She turned around, looking ready to say no, but quickly smiled when she saw it was me. “Sure, Alex. Not a problem.”

  After she left, Adam’s eyes darted to the pool, the blue sky overhead, and the buffet table weighed down by hotdogs and other snacks. He looked at everything but me. The ice had melted in his drink, and the paper umbrella floating in the glass looked sad.

  “Do you want to dance?” I hoped my voice sounded as confident as I was pretending to be.

  His jaw dropped open, and for the first time since I got to the party, he really looked at me. A line formed between his brows. “What happened to the non-acceptance of my apology?”

  I shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

  Just say no and get this over with, I wanted to say but didn’t. Rejecting a girl’s offer to dance didn’t require a long-winded speech. All it needed was a simple, monosyllabic word.

  Adam blew my expectations into smithereens. He placed his glass of iced tea on the buffet table that lined one side of the pool. Without saying anything, he wound his hand around my waist and pulled me toward the dance floor. As we stood surrounded by a sea of people, he took my hands and wound them around his neck. He felt warm and smelled like Irish Spring. His own hands returned to my waist like they belonged there.

  The butterflies came back with a vengeance. They whirled around in my stomach, making me want to pull Adam closer, until the space between us turned to nothing. He smelled so fresh and clean that I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and simply inhale, breathe him in until I’d had enough.

  But having enough seemed impossible at that point.

  A few meters away, I saw Christy dancing with Stephen. She had her eyes closed, and this insane bubble of happiness for her began to grow in my chest. Too bad I hadn’t seen the look on Patricia’s face when Christy walked with Stephen to the dance floor.

  Adam chose that exact moment to pull me a little closer. The other people around us faded into the background, and his face swam into focus. God, he was beautiful, his features strong and everything I’d ever wanted. As my heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest, I reminded myself that this was just Adam. There was no room for crazy heartbeats here.

  But the Adam I grew up with and the Adam standing in front of me seemed like two different people.

  Suddenly, things weren’t so simple anymore.

  When he looked like he was about to speak, I said, “Adam?”

  “Yes, Alex?”

  “Shut up.”

  With his hands still on my waist, I decided to lose myself in the moment. I could delay wondering why he agreed to dance with me or why I felt so at home in his arms a little longer.

  ***

  I decided to avoid Adam the week after Stephen’s party.

  When I walked through the hallways of Asia Pacific Academy, his face with its serious eyes and close-mouthed smile seemed to follow me from posters proclaiming his latest academic achievements. In the cafeteria, my mind conjured an image of him when I saw that they were serving adobo, his favorite.

  Avoiding Adam when all I could do was think about him was exhausting.

  With this thought still in mind, I grabbed my iced caramel macchiato and took a sip. Christy and I were sitting on one of the stone benches that surrounded the school’s soccer field. A hundred-year-old mahogany tree shielded us from the glare of the early afternoon sun. Its leaves swayed in the breeze.

  Christy had her nose buried in a Stephen King book. Her wavy hair was up in a ponytail today, but little tendrils had escaped and framed her face. She looked like a cross between the old and new Christy, and for some reason, this thought made me smile.

  “You’re staring,” she said, her eyes still glued to her book. “It’s kind of creepy.”

  “No, it’s totally hot.” With a mischievous grin, I plopped my coffee down beside me and proceeded to bat my eyelashes at her.

  We both burst out laughing. Christy finally put her book down on her lap and clutched her chest. Still wheezing with laughter, she managed to say, “Stop it before you give the freshmen at the next bench a heart attack.”

  At the same time, we glanced at the bench only a few steps away from ours. A bunch of freshmen boys were huddled on it with Algebra textbooks and potato chips. They were currently looking at Christy and me like we were about to start making out right then and there. We burst into giggles again.

  It took a few minutes for us to settle down, for Christy to turn back to her book and for me to figure out what still needed to be crossed out from my Prom To Do List. Sitting next to Christy while we were both busy with other things was nice. I was still thinking this when my phone buzzed, and I almost dropped it in surprise when I saw the message on the screen.

  Meet me in the parking lot after school.

  It was from Adam.

  I was about to stuff the phone into my purse without replying when it buzzed again.

  I’ll buy you another iced coffee.

  The phone slipped out of my hand. It landed on the bench between Christy and me with a thud. My eyes darted around the other stone benches and the empty field until I found Adam. He stood on the path that led to the library, backpack slung over one shoulder. With his phone still clutched in his left hand, he waved at me.

  His hair was a little longer now, and it made him look less like a general-in-training and more like the type of boy who’d buy you a corsage that went with your sparkly dress for prom. I didn’t like it. At all.

  When I didn’t wave back or acknowledge his presence in any other way, Adam’s face hardened and he started typing words into his phone. My own phone soon buzzed with another message. I held it up to my face and read the message, knowing Adam’s eyes were on me the whole time.

  Scared?

  Was he serious? Of all people, he was the one who should’ve known that I was anything but scared. I typed a reply before I could even think twice about it: See you in the parking lot after school. Without waiting for his response, I stuffed my phone into my purse and watched the expression on his face as he read my message.

  I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I couldn’t help the disappointment that spread through my chest when he didn’t glance in my direction after reading my message. He merely walked away.

  I hadn’t realized Christy had seen the whole thing until she nudged me in the shoulder. Pointing a finger at Adam’s retreating back, she said, “Now, that moment between the two of you? That was totally hot.”

  ***

  Distracted.

  That was the only word I would’ve used to describe myself for the rest of the day. I floated through my afternoon classes, and kept looking at my watch with a mixture of dread and—dare I say it?—excitement. When
I got to the edge of the parking lot after my last class, Adam was already standing next to his black BMW, keys in hand.

  I threaded my way through the maze of cars and stopped right in front of him. How could he look like he just stepped out of the shower after surviving an entire day of senior classes, various extracurricular activities, and soccer practice? It was grossly unfair.

  “Ready to go?” Adam said, one hand on the car door.

  Yes, my brain responded immediately, but my mouth formed a thin line. “Where are we going exactly?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” A line formed between Adam’s brows. He must’ve seen the growing annoyance on my face, because he shook his head at himself. “I guess I didn’t. Anyway, I found this affordable hotel that can be a great prom venue.”

  In my chest, disappointment started fluffing up the throw pillows on an imaginary couch, sat down, and propped her feet up on the coffee table, clearly deciding to stay for a while.

  I went on the defensive. “I thought the prom venue was still up for discussion? Remember Bayview Country Club offered us a big discount—”

  “—that will still force us to exceed our budget.” Adam opened the passenger side door and motioned for me to get in. He raised his eyebrows when I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to budge. “Just give the Bluebell Hotel a shot, Alex. You might surprise yourself.”

  “Fine, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  I got in, and we drove to the Bluebell Hotel in silence. Adam kept clearing his throat and glancing at me whenever we had to stop for a red light. He must’ve thought I was mad about his suggesting an alternative venue, but the truth was, I hadn’t been alone with Adam in a while. I had no idea how to deal with it.

  Should I attempt to start a conversation about something inane like how annoying Cory was?

  Should I keep quiet to avoid further awkwardness?

  What was I supposed to do?

  Before I knew it, the car stalled to a halt in front of a building that looked like a relic from the Spanish era. I could almost imagine women with paper fans alighting from horse-drawn carriages in front of it. The concierge, a thin man with an equally thin moustache, stood waiting for us in the lobby and guided us to the ballroom after introductions were made.

  We walked up stairs with marble balustrades, and I couldn’t help but imagine the history these stairs had witnessed throughout the years. Tiny vases filled with lavender lined the hallways, the scent of the flowers lingering over every crevice.

  The concierge stopped in front of wooden double doors that were twice my height, pushed them open, and left us to examine the ballroom on our own. We stepped inside it, and it simply took my breath away. When I looked up at the ceiling, a chandelier made of thousands of crystal droplets stared back at me. I walked over to the ancient fireplace in one corner of the room, running my hands over the smooth mantelpiece.

  With Old World charm we could never replicate in Bayview Country Club no matter how much we spent on decorations, the ballroom was nothing but perfect. It looked like the kind of place where people from the 20s smoked cigars and drank scotch. Authentic was the only word that came to mind.

  “It’s small, I know, but you have great taste,” Adam said from a few meters away, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “You can fix it up. Make it look pretty.”

  My eyes focused on the collar of his white button-down shirt. One end of it stuck up and aimed right at the ceiling. Adam always looked so grown up that the sight of that misplaced collar made breathing a little harder.

  “You’re trying to manipulate me with flattery.” I tried to keep my voice light and teasing as I walked over to him. My fingers itched to reach out, pull him a little closer, and ruffle his hair. See what happened when Adam lost control.

  “Well, I learned from the best.” Adam grinned. He surveyed the ballroom one last time before his eyes found mine. “You better like this place, because I spent hours looking for it.”

  And that’s when it hit me.

  He didn’t show me this place because it was affordable. Whether he admitted it or not, he had searched for a prom venue I would love, a place even better than Bayview Country Club. He saw the realization dawn on my face, and his ears turned red.

  My heart which had been steadily beating in my chest transformed into a tsunami of emotions, and in some twisted form of self-preservation, I defaulted back to my usual way of dealing with Adam. Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “That would be sad if it didn’t sound so pathetic.”

  What. Was. Wrong. With. Me?

  Hurt filled Adam’s eyes, but they quickly hardened. “I don’t get you, Alex.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” My mouth clearly had a life of its own.

  “No, I’m serious.” He moved closer, and when he stopped, he was so close that I could almost feel the warmth coming off his chest. “You refused to accept my apology, and then you avoided me at school after asking me to dance at Stephen’s party. Can you please tell me what’s going on because this,” he said, motioning at the little space left between us, “is driving me crazy?”

  One glance at Adam’s face told me we were beyond the point of petty bickering, and my passive-aggressive armor melted into a puddle around my feet. I gulped. “This,” I said, copying the earlier motion of his hand, “is just too difficult to handle sometimes.”

  This meant years of arguing over mundane things like the right way to highlight notes, the best Starbucks drink in existence, or the perfect prom venue. This meant knowing that we were stuck with each other, no matter what happened.

  This meant possibly wanting a little more than this.

  Holy crap.

  Christy was right.

  I totally had a thing for Adam.

  I really did think he was the hottest boy in Asia Pacific Academy, possibly in the entire world.

  “It doesn’t have to be this hard, Alex.” Adam ran a hand through his hair, making the now-longer-than-usual strands stick up in different directions. “Why don’t we go buy the iced coffee I promised you earlier? Let’s start with that.”

  I nodded and said, “I also want blueberry cheesecake.”

  Adam laughed, a loud, all over the place sound that was the complete opposite of his perfectionist persona. I loved it.

  What I didn’t love was, the feeling of foreboding settling into my stomach. You know, in the movies, realizations you liked a certain boy were always accompanied by a cheerful pop song about love and how great it was, not the sound of thunder and lightning that were currently crackling in my ears.

  Because guess what? I could have had any boy at school running at the crook of a finger, all of them except the one standing right in front of me.

  I needed some serious voodoo magic with this one.

  Chapter Four

  How was I going to do this?

  How was I going to act around Adam after discovering my—I didn’t even want to say it—feelings for him?

  Apparently, my subconscious was wondering the same thing. I woke up at 5 A.M. on Saturday morning, pulled my Egyptian cotton covers over my head again, and tried to go back to sleep. It didn’t work. Since I had no choice in the matter, I got up and prepared for battle, choosing the cutest outfit in my arsenal.

  Cory almost had a coronary when she walked into the Student Council Office, her heels clacking against the floor, and found me sitting on the conference table. It wasn’t even 10 A.M. yet, but I already had my planner open in front of me, pen in hand and poised to take notes.

  “Good morning, Cory,” I said brightly.

  “Good morning, Alex.” Cory chewed on her glossy lower lip. Her eyes were glued to the Starbucks cup next to my planner, and I could almost imagine a thought bubble broadcasting her thoughts above her head. She’s actually early and she didn’t buy coffee for the rest of us? What in the name of all that is holy is going on?

  Adam’s reaction was only a bit more subdued. He stopped in the doorway when he caught sight of m
e and stopped dead in his tracks. “Who are you and what have you done to Alex dela Cruz?”

  “Very funny,” I scoffed, pretending that my heart wasn’t galloping like a prized horse at a derby at the sight of his wet hair and freshly scrubbed face. He took the seat at the head of the table, the one next to mine. I decided right then and there that I liked Adam and his bar soap scent better than boys who drowned themselves in perfume.

  Speaking of boys who were way too attached to their bottles of Hugo Boss, Stephen walked into the room next, surprisingly without an entourage of girls trailing behind him this time. Before he made his way to his seat on the other end of the table, he stopped behind me, his hand clutching the back of my chair. “Can you stay after the meeting, Alex? I have to talk to you about something.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adam straighten and glance at us. I wanted to see the familiar furrow that appeared between his brows whenever he was annoyed, but his expression didn’t change.

  “Sure,” I said, unable to hide the disappointment lacing my voice. I attempted a smile, but a grimace appeared instead. “Talk to you later.”

  “Cool.”

  If there was an award for acting like the girls in movies who suffered from a bad case of unrequited love, I would’ve won it. No contest. The way Cory and the freshman representative hung on to every numerical figure that came out of Stephen’s mouth during the meeting could not hold a candle to how I acted.

  I was in pure, utter agony. My chair morphed into a hotbed of torture until I couldn’t stop fidgeting in it. Every glance Adam gave some other girl was like a carefully aimed poison dart and my heart the dartboard. My younger self from a month ago would’ve had a meltdown if she saw my present state. All because of Adam.

  So, this was what liking someone so much you wanted to trace their face with your fingers until your skin had it memorized was like?

  I wanted no part of it.

  “Alex, prom updates?” Adam raised his eyebrows at me, clearly expecting me to say something.