Ann LaBar - Prom Theory

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Text 2021 by Ann Russek

Jacket illustration 2021 by Charly Clements

Jacket design by Heather Palisi 2021 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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Interior design by Tom Daly

CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 9781534463080 (hc)

ISBN 9781534463097 (eBook)

For Kaden for the title and the inspiration.

Emma for the enthusiastic support and funny bits.

Karl for everything.

Monday

T he fact that my mother and I were going to be only fifteen minutes early to school rather than my preferred twenty-five minutes had me noisily chewing gum. There was a standard rule against gum in school, but my mother, tired of my nervous habit of chewing my shirt sleeve cuffs and collars, had made a brilliant argument for granting me dispensation from that hard and fast rule. I no longer needed it every day for the anxiety relief it provided, but this morning had me reaching for the Juicy Fruit. It was going to be at least a three-pack day.

Were going to be late, I said. It was imperative that I had some quiet time to get my books lined up in my locker in the order of my classes. My mother sighed and shook her head. Curls pulled free from her hasty attempt at a ponytail.

Sorry, its just I have an exam andwell, you know, I said.

Her frown quickly softened. I forgot, Im sorry. Trig, right? You work so hard in that class, Im sure youll do fine. Do you have everything you need? Calculator and, um, whats it called?

Protractor. Youre an artist, you should know what theyre called, I said as I crossed my arms and tried to keep my toes from tapping. If we were lucky, wed make all the lights and save a few minutes of the lost time.

I know what they are. I just never address them by name. She glanced at me with a grin.

Please dont. You talk to the Roomba as it is. Thats more than enough anthropomorphism to justify you considering the appliances family members.

Your father travels for work, youre in school all daywho else am I supposed to talk to?

I ignored that. She was trying to distract me from my worries. I would have none of it. I needed to stay on track. Yes, I have everything.

Be sure to request to take the test in the library. Oh, and remember your IEP gives you time and a half to take tests. Be sure you use all of it.

I will, but the time and a half will cut into my lit class. Ill have to go in late and everyone stares at me.

Talking about this was not making things better. My heart rate was approaching tachycardiac levels. Fight-or-flight instinct? My sympathetic nervous system was clearly preparing me to run as fast and as far as I could from the threat of awkward social situations that are broadly known as high school.

Hey, we made great time! I dont think many of the buses are here yet, my mother said as we pulled up to the entrance of Hillcrest High.

She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Youre going to have a wonderful day. I could hear the hope in her voice. She knew better.

Yes. Well. Love you. Bye. I got out of the baby-blue vintage Volkswagen Beetle and closed the door before she could kiss me again. I sprinted up the steps and into school, not slowing down until my locker and Esther were in sight.

Esther Oplinger had been the resident of the locker to the right of mine since middle school. You could say she was one of my best friends. The truth of it was, I had only two friends. One lived next door to me, and the other had the locker next to mine. So as far as I was concerned, I had two best friends. That was enough for me, and some days it was too many.

Proximity and repeated meetings throughout the day, over many years, apparently made friendships not just easier, but possible. I wasnt comfortable with people, loud noise, wool socks, or much of anything, really. I certainly failed trying to engage in hallway exchanges that offered little more than gossip about people I didnt know or understand.

If people were talking about, for example, some new documentary series, I would enthusiastically step up and join in. The self-proclaimed cannibalistic Korowai tribe of Indonesian New Guinea? Absolutely. Sex, vaping, and decimating the football team one district over? Not so much.

Esther was frantically spinning her combination lock and then tugging on the latch. When it failed to open, she began quietly, but impressively, cursing. Not an unusual pattern of behavior for her. However, on the morning of the third-quarter cumulative trig exam, it was not conducive to my successfully preparing to conquer the Pythagorean theorem or Ptolemys identities. Therefore, I needed to end her struggle or my morning was shot.

I elbowed her away from her much-abused locker. After spinning the dial two times and then to 24-6-17, I lifted the latch and pulled the door open.

Gods, Iris Oxtabee, you are my very bestest Bee. I swear Id be late for homeroom every freaking day if it wasnt for you.

Yes, you would, I said. Moving past her, I reached for my combination dial and stopped. Sloppily taped to my locker, at eye level, was a hot-pink sheet of letter-size paper.

BAE OR NAY

Only 19 days until Junior/Senior Prom!!

Tickets for sale during all lunch periods from any Student Council representative.

$75 per ticket

Id been vandalized. But in looking down the hallway for a perpetrator, I saw this was not a crime against my locker specifically, but instead the fallout of a propaganda campaign geared to force the student body into participating in clichd adolescent activities. The postings were everywhereon every other locker, littering the floor, and one even sailed through the air, as someone had folded it into an airplane.

Esther nudged me. Hey! Have you heard any updates from Squeak about where hes going in the fall? He mentioned some little college in Oregondo you think hed really go that far away? I mean