"I do." She smiled up at me, her blue eyes glinting. Then, biting her lip, she added, "You’re really cool, Nathan. I don’t think you know that about yourself, which almost makes you cooler."

Woah. That was nice…

Maybe she really did want to go to prom with me. Take that, Caleb.

"You’re really cool too," I said, a smile tugged at my lips.

"Can I ask you something?" She turned and started walking in the same direction I’d been heading. I followed, watching her ponytail sway with every step. She looked so cute in her red and white cheerleader uniform.

"Yeah, anything."

"Why have you never asked me on a date? After our kiss, I kind of thought you would." She stopped, turning toward me. "You’re like… the only boy in school who’s never tried. And I just… wonder why."

I was speechless. What was I supposed to say to that?

"We get along, don’t we?" she continued, stepping closer. I tried not to back away, but I was nervous as hell. "You think I’m pretty… don’t you?" Her eyes were on my lips now.

"Absolutely," I breathed.

“So, why not just…go for it?” She muttered, looking down at my lips.

Did she…was she asking for…

There was only one way to find out.

I leaned down slowly and to my surprise she met me halfway. Our lips collided and—

I was kissing her…again.

I was kissing Sarah Lockwood not because of some game but because she really just liked me.

Someone pinch me.

But then, even as my heart raced, I couldn’t help but think of a certain pair of ocean eyes that would’ve been shocked to see this happening.

If only Caleb were here to see this.

Caleb…

prom night

4

caleb

I drummed my fingers along my thighs while waiting for Taylor to come down the staircase. This was supposed to be a big moment for girls. Slow-motion entrance, dramatic dress reveal, and parents crying in the corner. Yada yada yada. I wasn’t in the mood.

That night, my band—The Airheads—was playing at our senior prom. As the lead singer and guitarist, I couldn’t be late. So, if Taylor could get her sparkly behind down those steps and out the door sometime this year, that’d be great.

I stood at the bottom of the staircase with her mom and dad, who were doing the whole ooooh-ing and aaah-ing routine like they were watching royalty glide down the stairs. Meanwhile, Taylor took each step like she was modeling for a bridal magazine.

If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have asked her to the prom at all. But my dad had other plans. According to him, no son of his was showing up to prom without a date. Apparently, showing up stag would have been a disgrace to our name or masculinity or whatever crap he preached.

I didn’t like labels. “Prom date” felt way too official for me. Too committed. But, like with most things in my life, when my dad insisted, I fell in line.