The announcers voice cuts through the rumble of the crowd. “The Class of twenty-nineteen Homecoming King: Jake Hollingsworth. And our Queen…Starlee Jones.”
“Congrats, babe,” he says, giving me a sweaty hug.
“You knew,” I say before I’m rushed by Margaret and bestowed with a sparkling tiara. He smirks when she places the gold and blue crown on his head as the crowd cheers and the other guys walk over to give me a hug also. I feel like I’ve been set up, but not in a mean, horrible way. They wanted to give me this moment.
All others are pushed away as the photographers call us over. It’s one thing to win. It’s another to have Jake by my side.
It ends in a flash, because George runs over to hug me and Jake kisses me one more time before rushing back to the field. At some point I remember Christina—too late, probably—she’s vanished even as the other girls offer their congratulations. I, for one, am glad. I don’t need her negativity here to spoil the night, and as Leelee and Sierra come down from the stands I embrace them, the event, the attention, and everything that comes along with it.
35
Jake
Overall it was a pretty epic night.
We killed Eastside with a final score of fifty-six to nine.
And Starlee won homecoming queen, which turned a somewhat tedious and predictable event into something epic.
She looked amazing in that dress, like a hippie fairy goddess come to life. I wasn’t lying when I told her she looked sexier than the other girls. A little mystery is a good thing—something Christina would never figure out on her own. She’s a “beat you in the head with it” kind of girl.
Except tonight, she was the one beaten.
The betrayal I felt from Christina freshman year was no longer a major issue in my life, but I wasn’t about to be tied to her again. Not just because of what she’d done to me and Claire, but I just didn’t need her anymore. At all. I had my brothers, my future, and my girl.
The homecoming dance fell on Halloween this year, which shifted the event from formal to costume. We’d had our outfits planned for months.
“Has anyone seen my leather jacket?” I call down the hallway.
“It’s in my room,” Charlie says, coming down the hall. “Sorry. I borrowed it the other day.”
“No worries.” I look up and see him in his costume. Flannel shirt, puffy vest, jeans, and a trucker-style ball cap. “Dude, your beard looks awesome.”
He strokes the fake hair stuck to his chin. “You can’t be Bobby without a beard.”
“No. You can’t.”
George comes into the hall. He’s wearing a fitted plaid shirt and jeans. Brown boots and a brown denim jacket. His hair is parted and hanging over his ears. It’s not quite the right length but close enough. I’m dressed similarly but with the leather jacket and a blue button-down shirt. We’re brothers for the night.
“Dex, you ready?”
His door swings open and he appears in the hallway. His dark, curly hair is flattened, tamed and parted on the side. His stubble is just so. Under his tan overcoat is a white shirt and black tie.
“Looking good, Castiel,” I say.
“These pants are dumb.” He looks down at the black dress pants and shoes.
The doorbell rings and Crowley starts barking like he’s going mad. We all look at one another. We’re missing one person.
“Guys,” Sierra calls. “Starlee is here.”
We meet her in the living room. Her hair has been straightened and pinned at the side, she has on a Princess Leia T-shirt that fits her body…yeah. It fits her nicely. Over that is her purple and pink plaid shirt and then a hoodie. Her jeans are gray, her Converse black. Headphones hang around her neck. She’s absolutely adorable.
“Oh my god, you guys! You look amazing!” She’s walking back and forth past us. “Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Bobby.” She takes in Dexter’s hair, which is threating to revolt at any minute. Her fingers stroke Charlie’s beard. She tugs at George’s hair that he’s been growing out all month to get in character and then stops in front of me. I got mine cut—shorter in the back than normal. She runs her fingers through the freshly buzzed hair and leaves my whole body tingling in her wake.
“Dean Winchester,” she says, eyes twinkling.
“Charlie Bradbury,” I say, wanting to pick her up and carry her off for my own. Obviously, Charlie isn’t interested in Dean or any of the guys in the show, but for this girl? I’d break canon in a heartbeat.