“DO I LOOK OKAY?” I asked, standing in front of the mirror at Zara’s. They’d dressed me in a pair of her skinny jeans and a shimmery top that I never in a million years would have picked for myself. This outfit said look at me—something I’d been trying to avoid my entire high school career. But now? I turned in the mirror, seeing the way the jeans clung to the curves of my hips. Maybe I deserved to be seen.
“You look hot!” Jordan said. “I wished I could fit into those pants.”
Zara grinned at her. “It wouldn’t be fair if you could wear them with that ass!”
Jordan shook her head, laughing. “Whatever, girl.”
“It really is perfect,” Ginger said. “Especially with your hair like that.”
Callie grinned at me in the mirror over my teased and curled hair. She’d worked magic with a curling iron.
Zara nodded. “Beckett isn’t gonna know what hit him.”
I scanned them over, each looking amazing in their own outfits. “The
club isn’t going to know what hit it.”
They were coming with me, because there was no way they’d miss this moment in history. If Aiden was right, Beckett would be asking me to homecoming tonight, in front of everyone. My life would change, forever.
“We should head out,” Ginger said. “We’ll be late if we don’t get there soon.”
At that, we all grabbed our bags and began walking down the stairs from Callie’s room. It had been a rapid transformation, going from the game to Callie’s house to get ready, but I was glad I had some time to look nice and center myself after the big win tonight. The whole school went
crazy after Beckett scored the winning touchdown in overtime. I couldn’t wait to celebrate with him tonight.
We rode in Zara’s Rolls Royce, but I felt like I was inside a spaceship with all the amenities her car offered. And I thought my Audi was nice.
Music poured through her speaker system from all sides of the car, and the bass felt as strong as my heartbeat. By the time we got there, I’d had all the pump-up music I needed. But nothing could have prepared me for the way Beckett looked waiting outside the club. For me.
He’d swapped well-worn denim for dark jeans and an even darker sweater. With his skin washed out by streetlights and neon, he looked intense, leaned up against the brick wall like that.
“Holy hotness,” Ginger breathed.
“He’s working those jeans,” Zara agreed. “Mmhmm,” Jordan said.
Callie grinned. “You’re going to have a great time.”
I bit my bottom lip. Why did it feel like I was stepping into my destiny instead of out of a car?
Zara slowed along the curb. “We’ll go park. You get your man.”
My hand shook on the handle, knowing he couldn’t see me through the tinted glass. I looked back at them. “Are you sure I can do this? Be with him, in front of…everyone?” Fears overwhelmed me of being made fun of or having Beckett see me the way everyone else did.
Jordan put a hand on my shoulder. “He asked you here. The school’s star quarterback survived dinner with your entire family just so he could take you out, and you think you don’t belong here?”
I smiled, glancing out the window at Beckett, then back at the girls. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Anything to get back at Merritt,” Ginger said.
I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach and pushed the door open. Tonight was about me and Beckett. I’d worry about what would happen after we made things official—if that ever happened.
The second I stepped out of the car and Beckett saw me, his lips spread into a smile and he pushed off the wall to greet me. “You look amazing, Cupcake.”
My cheeks warmed, even under the cool air. “You think?”
“I know.” His fingers brushed the bare skin of my arm, leaving goosebumps. “You’re cold. Let’s get you inside.”
He paid our covers and led me into the club. The calm world of downtown Brentwood was replaced by this pulsating music and strobe lights. People were everywhere I looked—dancing in front of the DJ’s stand, ordering drinks at the bar, mingling around standing tables—but all I could focus on was Beckett and his hand in mine.
His lips were close to my ear as he said, “Can I get you a soda?” I nodded, afraid if I moved my lips they would land on his.
We snaked through the crowd of people and eventually ended up at the bar. A couple of guys from our school were there, and they slapped Beckett high fives on the win.
“Who’s this?” one of them asked, nodding toward me. Toward the space where mine and Beckett’s hands were joined. There was a clear question in his eyes, like the equation of Beck and Me didn’t figure.
“Rory,” Beckett yelled back, handing me a glass with fizzing brown liquid.
“She your girl?” the other asked, not letting it rest. Beckett’s eyes trailed my body. “If she’ll have me.”
With his gaze still on me, I felt something I’d never felt before. I almost couldn’t place it. Sexy. I felt sexy.
The guys lost it, like I was doing semi-internally, whooping and hollering.
“Does Merritt know?” the first one asked.
Beckett ignored his straw and drank from his cup. “Who cares?”
They slapped more high fives, but Beckett was already done with the conversation, focusing on me. “I see an empty table.”
He led me through the crowd, and I might have been imagining it, but I could have sworn he was holding my hand even tighter now. He found the empty table for us to stand by, and I leaned against it as I set down my cup. Just as I opened my mouth to tell Beckett that I would most certainly, without a doubt, have him, the music stalled, and the DJ’s voice came over the sound system.
“Hello, fam!” his voice boomed over a soft techno beat. “We’re about to get this party started, but first I want to congratulate Emerson Academy and Brentwood Academy on their wins tonight!”
Everyone in the crowd went wild, but I nudged Beckett’s arm, grinning at him. He had to know at least part of this cheering was due to his hard work tonight.
Beckett rewarded me with a bashful smile. That would never stop being cute.
“Seaton,” the DJ said, “better luck next time.” The sound of a deflating balloon played over the speakers.
We laughed as the DJ went on. “As you know, tonight’s karaoke night. Come to the stand to sign up and request your song while the rest of us get our groove thang on.”
Beckett nodded toward the DJ stand and mimicked the DJ’s voice. “Are we getting our groove thang on?”
I nearly snorted out my Dr. Pepper. “No way.”
“Really? I’m sure we could find a Cupcake-qualified song.”
The way he said his nickname for me made me melt, but I rolled my eyes. “Hell would freeze over before you got me on that stage, hot pants.”
He chuckled as a fast-paced song began playing. “Let’s dance.”
It wasn’t a question. My hand was in his, and he was leading us to the dance floor.
“I really can’t dance!” I protested over the music.
“Nonsense.” He swayed to the song, taking my hands. He brushed up against me, close, closer, until our faces were inches apart. “You’re a natural.”
My insides melted—completely fell apart at his words. “Yeah?” “Definitely.” His nose brushed against mine, and I felt his breath on my
skin better than I heard his words.
We danced, moved, swayed to the music until it faded and left us, toe to toe on the dance floor. The heady rush of his scent, of the music and the lights and the reality of his proximity to me—it had me floating outside of my body like I was watching some other curvy girl living every second of her wildest daydream.
That was until a voice ripped me painfully back into my body.
Merritt and the same guy from the football team who’d made fun of me my first time watching the football team practice were on the stage, singing every line of “Fat Bottom Girls.” But they had a twist. One that included replacing lyrics with mine and Beckett’s names.
As everyone around us caught on to the fact that it was Beckett and me as the butt of Merritt’s joke, they began laughing. Pointing.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears, and the room swayed. “Get me out of here,” I begged.
“Rory,” Beckett said, making me meet his eyes. “I’m taking care of this.
Wait here.”
He didn’t need to ask though. My legs were frozen beneath me as I was forced to listen to every second of Merritt’s public humiliation of me.
Why was she doing this? In front of everyone? I didn’t understand.
What had I ever done to her? To anyone?
Hands reached my shoulders, my arms, and I jerked my head around to see who it was. Jordan, Zara, Ginger, and Callie were here. Jordan had a hold of my hand and was already pulling me toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here!” she yelled.
The singing stopped, even though the background music continued playing and the lyrics still flashed over the screen.
“Wait!” Beckett yelled. I turned to see him silhouetted by the blue screen and white words.
Jordan froze too. It was like everyone in the room had to listen to Beckett. Or at least, I did. I stared at him, wishing for him to say something. To do something that would make the burning shame go away.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he said to Merritt and Vance, who still stood on the stage. “You’ll never be half the person Rory is.”
Vance snorted and yelled, “I’d need a lot more cake for that. Am I right?”
Beckett shoved him, and feedback squealed through the mic.
Vance pushed him back, and soon they were wrestling on the stage floor.
Tears stung my eyes as I watched them. They were fighting over me. If this was what Beckett got just from dancing with me at a club one night, what would happen when we went public at homecoming? Beckett deserved better than that. And I should have known better. The only safe place for me was to fade into the background, where I belonged.
I turned and ran out of the club. The others followed me, and we broke out of the door into the cool night air. It made the wetness on my cheeks burn even more. My breathing had become gasps, somewhere between a choked breath and a sob.
“That was insane!” Ginger cried.
Callie’s face was contorted with anger I’d never seen there before. “Merritt had no right to humiliate you like that!”
Zara’s eyes were wide. “Did you see Beckett tackle Vance?”
Ginger nodded. “He totally defended your honor.”
“He shouldn’t have to defend my honor!” I yelled, my voice echoing off brick walls. “He should be out, dancing, having fun, not tormented for being seen with someone like me. I told you. Merritt told me.” I gestured at my clothes. “You can put lipstick on a pig, but it—”
“Stop it right there.” Beckett’s voice rang through the night air. Ignoring the other girls’ shocked expressions, he stepped right up to me, face to face. “Don’t you ever talk about yourself like that.” His voice was hard—angry like the welt swelling on his eyebrow.
Murmurs sounded behind him as people poured out of the club to watch the scene, but Beckett continued, ignoring them just as completely.
“What Merritt did was wrong. There’s no other way to put it. Because you are…” He stepped back and spread his arms out, searching for the word. “You’re incredible, Rory!” He came close again and took my hands, shaking them with each point he made. “Can’t you see? You’re beautiful and smart and kind, and every time I’m with you I learn something new— dream something new about how life could be.”
“I—” I began, but Beckett held up his hand.
“No excuses, Cupcake. You can’t reason your way out of this one or convince me I’m making the wrong decision.” He glanced around and then reached into his pocket. “I was going to do this later, but I want everyone to know.” He dropped to his knee and looked up at me. Raising his voice, he asked, “Will you go to homecoming with me?”
My fingers reached the cupcake pendant hanging from a gold chain, and I held it to my chest. “Yes!”
He stood and pulled me close, his lips coming to mine. No hesitation.
No fear, just pure euphoria in every second of our kiss.
I closed my eyes and savored him, feeling every cell of his skin meet every cell on mine, charging them, changing them, and marking them his.
A cheer erupted around us, and I grinned against his lips. “Are you sure about this?”
He smiled back and kissed me again. “There’s no going back now.”
