“Babe,” Ezra says, scooting next to me. His arm snakes over my shoulder, and his cologne smells like heaven. “It’s a statement that we don’t give a fuck, not about labels, not about status, not about what people think.”
“And definitely,” Ozzy adds, “not about Rose. She got last night. You get tonight. I don’t want to hear a goddammed word about her, got it?"
There’s a fire in his eye. I like it. I hold up my glass, gesturing for them to do the same. We clink them together and I reply, “Got it.”
The champagne bubbles tickle my throat while it goes down, filling my stomach with excitement. The guys are right, tonight is about the living, not the dead. We’re going to keep it that way.
It’s obvious right off the spot that we’re not the only ones ready to let go of ghosts for the night. The whole gym vibrates, and not just from the DJ’s thumping bass. The energy of the students is palpable. The girls look amazing, decked out in their best shimmery dresses, hair curled, nails manicured. The boys are caught somewhere between surprisingly handsome or awkwardly uncomfortable.
We pass through the ticket booth, no one really taking much notice to the fact of who I’m with. One of the teachers does a double take at Finn, then smiles at him sympathetically. I reach for him, hook my arm with his and lead them all into the lobby. There’s a table set up for snacks and drinks. Across the room is a photobooth set up.
“We can hit that later,” I say, continuing on to the gym while I still have the nerves to make an entrance.
I brace myself at the double doors, already hearing the whispers of people near us. It’s not even that people know we’re dating—all of us, that is—it’s the simple fact that this strange group is all together. Finn the handsome, athletic god; Ezra the delicious bad boy, and Ozzy, smart and mysterious. How did I, Kenley Keene, a nerdy loner, manage this? How and when?
Ezra places his hand on one door and Ozzy the other. Finn stands by my side. This is as much for him as me. The doors open, music spills out, and yeah, a lot of people look.
The gym looks great—no surprise—decoration efforts were led by the SGA and Juliette. Paper streamers twisted with shiny metallic catch the light of the mirrored disco ball hanging from center court.
Finn’s hand slips into mine, warm and steady, and we cross the threshold, outing our friendship, our allegiance, our connection to the whole school.
It’s the most perfect moment in a night that only gets better.
“Please tell me that’s not spiked,” I say to Ezra, eyeing the cup in his hand.
“It’s not—”
I take the cup from him, tip it to my lips and drain the contents. “I was so thirsty.”
“You’ve been dancing a lot.”
He reaches out and tucks a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “I probably look like a hot mess.”
“You look gorgeous.”
The way he says it makes me pretty sure he means it.
Ozzy and Finn took off a few minutes before, simply saying they’d be right back. Ezra had been leaning against the flattened bleachers, watching the room with a disinterested eye.
A slow, sappy song comes on and I hold out my hand.
“Dance with me?”
“That’s a bold move, babe.”
He’s right. We’ve made it clear we’re here together, but slow dancing with Ezra Baxter? It’s bold for him and me. I’m ready to take it if he is.
I hold my hand out for a beat more, not sure what he’ll do.
His eyes flick from my face to my hand, a decision happening in that short span of time. He takes it, threading his fingers with mine and leading me to the dancefloor. It’s no surprise that Ezra’s confidence extends to this arena as well. He’s got a constant swagger; from the football field, to the halls at school, even walking in and out of the courthouse knowing his ass is on the line.
It feels disturbingly good to be in his arms; bodies close, swaying to the music.
“Is everyone watching?” I ask, feeling the eyes of my classmates boring into my back.
“Do you care?”
“It’s just weird. No one ever paid much attention to me. You wouldn’t know what that was like.”