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Going Home With the Prom Queen
It was the time of their lives.
James had never seen a more beautiful girl than Etta Donaghue in her ivory prom dress that made her look like a modern-day princess.
Even as she walked through the crowds — stopping to talk to classmates she might not have even known personally — she looked more like a monarch or a diplomat than a regular teenage girl. He watched her laugh with a junior girl who seemed to glow from the attention.
And Etta didn’t even have her crown yet — not that it mattered. Everyone knew she had been the defacto prom queen from the start. Did the teachers even need to count the votes?
“She makes me sick,” James’s friend Harry muttered.
Another time, James might have laughed along with his fellow outcast’s remarks. Then maybe they would have sauntered off to a convenience store in the next town over to pull the wool over some guy’s eyes with their fake ID’s just for the procurement of beer.
As James watched Etta’s boyfriend Landon take her hand in his, getting drunk on cheap beer seemed like a pretty good option.
Instead, James looked over at Harry and said flatly, “Why? Just because she won’t give a guy like you the time of day?”
