“Want some champagne?” She holds up a new full bottle. I don’t know where she found it and how she hasn’t gotten in trouble yet.

An arm circles my waist and I turn to see Dean behind me. I let myself lean against him, nervous about what he might have seen between Andrew and me. I wonder if Dean can tell how I feel. If he even cares.

“Ava, put that bottle away,” Danielle hisses. “You’re a mess. Where did you even get that?”

Ava takes a long sip. “I pulled it out of your ass.”

Just then the music cuts out and a voice comes over the speakers. “If everyone could take their seats, we’re going to start the crowning in a few minutes.”

Our principal, Mr. Harrison, is on a raised platform at the other end of the ballroom, holding a stack of white envelopes. We all head to our seats. I end up between Dean and Charlie, so I lean as close as I can to Dean and completely ignore Charlie when he asks me if I can hand him a soda. Andrew is across from me with Danielle, so I focus instead on watching Ava and Ryder, who are taking turns with the flask.

“Can you guys hear me?” Mr. Harrison asks. There’s an unenthusiastic murmuring from the crowd.

“Oh, just get on with it,” Danielle hisses, taking a sip of her soda. She sets it down on the table and brings a hand up to smooth down her hair. She doesn’t need to. She still looks perfect.

“You seem pretty confident,” Ava whispers in the loud way people do when they’re tipsy.

“I am,” Danielle says. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious.” She pauses for a second and then looks around at all of us. “No offense.”

“Oh, it’s obvious?” Ava asks, her voice rising a few decibels. Ava has never been good at keeping quiet, and now that she’s had a few glasses of champagne, she’s projecting in her full musical theater voice. She folds her arms in front of her, raising her boobs up in the process, so they’re dangerously close to spilling out of her strapless gown. “I’m glad it’s so obvious to you. Wouldn’t want any of the rest of us to get our hopes up.”

Mr. Harrison’s voice comes again, amplified across the ballroom. “All right, so prom court is only open to senior Prescott students. Apologies to all of you underclassmen. You’ll get your shot later.”

“Oh please, Ava,” Danielle says. She motions a hand toward Ava’s cleavage. “You shouldn’t go up onstage anyway, because you’ll just flash everyone. I’m saving you the humiliation. Like usual.”

“Come on, guys,” Hannah whispers. “It’s just stupid prom. This isn’t the Nobel Peace Prize.”