Josh turned to me for confirmation, and I nodded. “But cinnamon roll pancakes do sound amazing,” I added. “May I get a fork with my spoon? That way, I can steal some bites?”
We laughed when Josh groaned. “Exasperating,” he said. “You two are endlessly exasperating. First, reservations. And now this?” He shook his head.
“Excuse me, but endlessly exasperating?” my mom said once her boyfriend had disappeared into the kitchen. “I’d say he finds us endlessly fascinating.”
“Yes,” I agreed. I loved these breakfasts with her. “Endlessly fascinating, for sure.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, Lily, but Blair was eyeing you like a dartboard during calc today,” my friend Pravika commented. She and I were spending our free period with Zoe in the Crescent, a rounded seashell-encrusted terrace overlooking the ocean and an extension of the greenspace aptly named “the Circle.” It was Ames’s beating heart, the place to be before, between, and after classes. White Adirondack chairs and hammocks dotted the lawn, and if one was free, you wanted to be sitting in it.
“Really? Am I bleeding?” I deadpanned. The three of us were sunning ourselves on the Crescent’s wall. “She should work on her aim.”
“Who was sitting next to you in class?” Zoe asked.
I didn’t respond. Truthfully, Blair had hit the bull's-eye.
“Lily…” my friends singsonged.
“He was late,” I explained. “There weren’t any other open spots.”
They laughed, and I tried not to think of Tag’s eyes. They had been gray instead of glinting green today, their light dimmed. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he’d whispered, and it had taken almost everything to stop myself from running my fingers through his dark brown hair and gently rubbing the back of his neck. It had been over a year since we’d been this close; we had a way of dancing around each other on campus, a dance I thought had been expertly choreographed, right down to us only exchanging a few words during class. But today Tag had missed a step and we’d had to sit together, which made me stumble as well. It ached not to feel his hand on my knee under the table. Or for him not to kiss the inside of my wrist before threading his fingers through mine…
Why? I asked myself for the millionth time. Why did you do it?
“I wonder who he’ll go to prom with now,” Zoe mused.
“No idea,” Pravika said. “Some sophomore, probably. All the jocks—”
“Can we chill on all the prom speculation?” I grumbled. “Who cares? We’ll find out soon enough.”
Zoe and Pravika were silent, because earlier this week, Daniel Rivera, our student council president, had promposed to me after classes with a beautiful bouquet of lilies. It hadn’t mattered that I was allergic to them; I could feel people’s eyes on us, so I summoned a smile and hugged them to my chest. Don’t think about any impending doom, I’d thought, knowing full-blown hives were on the horizon. You’re excited! Show everyone how excited you are!
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.”
My friends nodded slowly, like they did know what it was. I felt my neck flush. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” Zoe had said the other day. “I know you haven’t broken a promise in, like, your entire life, but prom with Daniel isn’t a real promise—you didn’t pinkie swear or anything. If you aren’t excited to go with him, why actually go with him?”
Because I accepted the flowers, I’d almost said. I accepted the flowers, and I threw them in the trash as soon as I got home, so I can’t give them back.
And even if I could, I wouldn’t. A promposal might not exactly be a promise, but it was a commitment. I didn’t break my commitments.
Some clouds shrouded the sunlight. “Okay, so new topic…” Pravika ventured. “The guys in bio this morning would not shut up about the senior prank.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, about how it looks like there isn’t one this year.”
“Ooh, yes,” Zoe murmured. “I’ve been doubtful too. The Jester has been quiet.”
“Try mouth-taped-shut silent,” I said. The senior prank was another year-end tradition, but an underground one. Students were obsessed with it because the whole thing was very cloak-and-dagger. Not just any upperclassman could brainstorm a prank and put it into motion…only “the Jester” could do that. Their identity was always anonymous; only the previous Jester knew who the next Jester was, passing the “hat” off to them. And if the prank master required a crew to pull off their plan, several others were let in on the secret.
But they never told a soul.
Zoe was right; it didn’t look like there was going to be a prank this year. The order always went prank, prom, graduation. And prom was beckoning! Girls had their dresses hung in their closets and hair and makeup appointments scheduled.
“Who do you think it is?” Pravika asked. She pointed across the Circle, where Blair Greenberg held court in an Adirondack chair. “My money’s on her.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Seriously, Veeks?”
“Yeah.” Pravika nodded. “She’s more than devious enough.”
Truly in a league of her own, I thought before biting my pinkie nail. The farther I stayed away from Blair Greenberg, the better.
“Personally, I hope it’s Alex.” Zoe swayed us away from Blair. “He was my vote for the Class Clown superlative.”
“Zoe, he was everyone’s vote,” Pravika said while I failed at battling back a grin. Alex Nguyen would be the perfect Jester. He’d been devising pranks for forever.
“He will not stop,” I remembered Tag saying sophomore year. We’d been doing homework together in the library, legs entwined under our study table. “Becoming the Jester is the Alexander Nguyen equivalent of winning an Oscar.”
“But you would help,” I’d said. “If he was chosen as Jester and tapped you to help, you wouldn’t even hesitate.”
We stared at each other for a moment before Tag’s lips curled up in a mischievous smile. “No,” he replied, eyes evergreen. “I wouldn’t.”
“I’d love to see what Alex does,” Pravika giggled. “You’d know it’d be a major production, so he’d need a team.” She raised an eyebrow. “Would you guys do it?”
Zoe groaned. “Girl, don’t get my hopes up!”
Pravika turned to me. “Lily?”
“No,” I said without any hesitation.
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “For a million reasons. The first being that I would never make it out of my house undercover. You know what a night owl my mom is. She grades papers until 2:00 a.m.” I waved my hand. “Recruiting me would yield zero results.”
“Wait, so is that why there’s been no prank?” Zoe joked. “Because you can’t sneak out?” She lowered her voice. “Are you the Jester?”
I flipped her the bird.
My friends laughed.
“No, no, we know.” Pravika smiled. “It would never be you, Lily.”
“Yeah, never me.” I smiled back, hoping neither of them noticed it was forced. There was no chance I’d be the Jester, let alone ever joke with the Jester, because the Ames student body couldn’t be too sure where my loyalties lay. With them? Or with the teachers who had raised me?