Chloe rolled her rectangular piece of cafeteria pizza up and took a bite as if it were a burrito. This time she waited until after swallowing to talk. “Grant asked you to homecoming yet?”
“No!” I said, stabbing at my salad. The posters had been up at school for weeks now, and every time I passed one, I felt tiny pinpricks all over my skin. Grant cared about me, I knew he did, so I didn’t understand why he hadn’t asked me. All my old fears were stirring just below the surface, threatening to rise. “I’m starting to think he doesn’t want to go with me.”
“Better man up soon,” Chloe said, but there was a strange pitch to her voice.
I started to respond, but then she shot up and called out, “Here she is!” I turned just in time to see six guys in football pads and black-and-white paper Stormtrooper masks rushing toward me. Years of bullying made me panic as they lifted me from the ground.
“Easy,” one of the guys whispered. I recognized Grant’s friend Rodney’s voice. “Easy. We ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Chloe swept into view with her camera held out, recording. I forced myself to relax—she was clearly in on whatever was happening. The guys hoisted me onto their shoulders and hustled me out of the cafeteria to a din of confused laughter.
My captors kicked in the double doors to the gymnasium to reveal Grant in a white long-sleeve shirt and black pants with white stripes up the side. On one side of him stood a guy in a paper Darth Vader mask with a cheap-looking black cape, and on the other, someone wore the Boba Fett costume I had given to Grant after Halloween.
“Leia!” Grant said. He rushed forward, pretending to be restrained when Vader and Fett grabbed his arms.
“Han!” I said, laughing as the football-players-turned-Stormtroopers set me down before him.
“What if he dies?” Boba Fett said, his voice raspy and his delivery stiff.
“The Empire will compensate you if he dies,” a goofily deep voice said. I thought I recognized it as Parker’s, but I wasn’t sure. “Any last words, Solo?”
“Leia!” Grant said, really hamming it up in his attempt to break free. “Will you come to homecoming with me?”
“Of course!” I cried, stepping forward and clasping my hands over my heart. I started to say “I love you!” since that was the next line, but paused. We hadn’t said those words yet, although I couldn’t help thinking it all the time lately. Instead I declared, “I … like you! A lot!”
“I know,” Grant said, donning a perfect Han Solo smirk all the same. I wondered what was going to come next, since a carbonite freezing chamber seemed out of the question, and then the Stormtroopers pulled out aerosol cans, shook them, and sprayed both of us with Silly String.
* * *
Darth Vader was waiting for me outside the bathroom when I finally got the silly string off my hands and face.
“Lord Vader,” I said. “I should have known. Only you could be so bold.”
“Uh,” Vader said. He pulled the mask down to reveal Parker’s confused face. “I don’t know the next line. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile. Parker was often at parties with us, or on the outskirts of smaller groups, but hadn’t said much to me since my early days in Lambertville. “Thanks for helping with that whole … thing.”
“Promposal?” Parker said, scrunching up one side of his face. “I think that’s what we’re calling it now.”
“‘Homecomingposal’ doesn’t really roll off the tongue,” I noted. He chuckled and shook his head.
“That it don’t,” he said. He frowned at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck, then made eye contact with me again with what looked like effort. “I’ve been meanin’ to tell you I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“Bein’ a dick at that party, like a million years ago,” he said, looking away again. “I was feelin’ … shit, it don’t matter how I felt. I’m just sorry.”
“Oh,” I said, cocking my head, surprised. “Thank you.”
“It ain’t … you’re welcome.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I wondered what could possibly be on his mind. “Can I walk you to class?”
“Sure,” I said, and we fell into step beside each other. He walked beside me in silence for a while, the struggle to say something clear on his features.
“I got a question,” he said eventually.
“Shoot.”
“What’s wrong with me?” Parker said, his voice strangely soft.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“What’s Grant got that I don’t?”
“Ohhhhh.” I chewed my lip and looked down at my feet. “I’m not sure I know how to answer that, Parker.”
“Was it just ’cause he was the first one to talk to you?” Parker asked earnestly. I shrugged and gave him as tender a look as I could. “How come girls don’t like me? How come you don’t like me?”
“Me and Grant just clicked,” I said, “and me and you just … didn’t. I don’t know how else to explain it.” We reached my classroom, and I leaned on the wall to face him. He was still staring straight ahead, and I could see a muscle working in his jaw. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, that makes sense.”