Promposal, page 1
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Praise for R. H. Bird
Promposal
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
A word about the author…
Thank you for purchasing
“These things don’t usually happen to me, you know.” Her breathing became more audible, with her chest rising and falling.
“What things?” I leaned forward, our lips so close to each other.
“I’ve never pointed to a guy in the hall before and said, ‘I want that one.’ And now I have you.”
Was I hers already? The thought sent my pulse racing. I shifted my eyes upward. “Do you like constellations? Orion the hunter’s right above you.”
When Piper looked up, I caressed the side of her face. She closed her eyes and cuddled her cheek into my palm. Our lips finally pushed against each other, testing the connection. At first it was soft and delicate, then lightning struck. The kissing deepened, tasting, daring a little further, and the gentle stroke of her tongue on mine.
Piper pulled me closer, conveying her willingness, then she pressed herself against me. My body felt a warm rush of pleasure and I learned how sexy she was. This wasn’t just a kiss, we were beyond it, making out as only young lovers do. My tongue danced in her mouth and hers flittered in mine. I don’t know how long it lasted but I loved every moment.
“Wow,” I said when we finally parted, and stared into her eyes. Her cheeks flushed. How had she managed this? One minute I was thinking about breaking up with her, and in the next I had fallen for her. Would she always control me so easily?
Praise for R. H. Bird
“My high school was different, but RH’s narrative makes me wish that I had gone to this one!”
~Valerie J Runyan, Writing Life Coach
“If I could, I would give RH Bird’s novel Promposal 10 stars and a parade. I loved every moment of this well written, fast-moving read.
“READ this book…you will not be able to put it down.”
~Toni K Pacini, Author of Alabama Blue: A Southern Gothic Memoir
Promposal
by
R.H. Bird
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Promposal
COPYRIGHT © 2023 by R.H. Bird
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Edition, 2023
Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-5092-5322-7
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-5323-4
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my lovely wife Lynn, and three amazing daughters.
They’ve been like a family to me.
Chapter 1
First Period: May 1
I loved the smell of detention in the morning—not really.
Especially after the principal stuck us in this skeezy classroom on the far side of the building. Supposedly, she kept it dirty so we’d catch a weird disease and miss a couple days of school. It didn’t reek as bad as the gym locker room but wasn’t much better. Mainly it stunk of sweat, puberty, and indifference. Rainbow-colored gum fossilized on all the desk bottoms. If you dropped your pencil, it was like going nose-to-nose with the grossest cave ceiling ever. The desktops had carvings of rock bands, cartoon characters, and hearts proclaiming everlasting love. Mine had plenty of SUCK ITS and CRUDS too.
Skinny Nathan, with his mop of dirty-blond hair, grabbed a seat, one up and to the right of me. “Hey Luca.”
I scored a spot in the last row—the luxury box of confinement. My tired lids opened, and my pupils crept upward to meet his.
He wasn’t my favorite person but we’re friends with a few of the same people. He always seemed kind of fake, but there’s no reason to dislike him either. According to high school’s awkward laws, I must therefore recognize him, but not in too friendly a way.
“What’s up, dude?” I nodded.
“You’ll never guess who’s selling her prom tickets?”
I yawned. “Who?” The clock ticked to 7:59. Four kids had their heads down, already dozing off. I leaned back, picked up my pen and began carving WHATEVER in the desk. We lived in a town called Big Dune, NY, about two and half hours north of the city. As a junior, I technically didn’t care what happened at tonight’s senior prom.
He raised his eyebrows, then drew out each word. “Piper…Kraft.”
My pen scribbled forward, ending up in CRUD. I didn’t want to believe it.
“Are you serious?” I sat up lightning quick, suddenly very awake.
“That’s the word on the street. Your ex-girlfriend’s selling her tickets.” With an idiotic grin, he pointed his finger, aimed, then pulled the trigger on an imaginary gun. He seemed to enjoy telling me.
“Dude, that sucks. She must feel awful.” My leg twitched. I also fidgeted, squirmed, and tapped my pencil. We split up ten months ago and have barely spoken. She never says hi and she turns the other way when I walk down the hall. But lately, I’m surprised how much I’ve missed her. If this was what anxiety hurts like, it blows.
Everyone believed the breakup was my fault. They don’t know the full story. Nobody ever does. Letting her go was a stupid mistake. But that doesn’t mean my heart didn’t break.
Five minutes ago, everything was great. Last night I pinned my wrestling opponent in the first period and couldn’t wait to brag about it to my friends. Now, I had no control of the world around me. I wanted to do something for Piper, but what? My muscles went numb, and I experienced a tightness in my chest. I glanced at Nathan.
He shrugged, like he thought it was funny.
Daniella raced in, just ahead of the bell. She dove into the seat in front of me, knocking against my desk—one very stuck-up senior.
“Nathan you’ll never guess what happened.” She sounded a little out of breath and sported a suggestive smile.
“Why, what’s going on?” Apparently, he made the grade.
“I have a chance to buy two tickets to tonight’s prom, but I don’t know if I should.” She brushed a hand through her thick brown hair. It fell long and wavy with a white scrunchy. Her curled eyelashes batted at him, and her red lipstick glowed wetter than normal.
Daniella didn’t acknowledge my presence even though we casually knew each other—not worth her time, I guess. What did she do to end up here? Probably snuck out of school to get a pedicure.
My incarceration today came from skipping Social Studies last Friday. It was a dumb thing to do—forgetting to forge a note from my father.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Nathan’s voice hitched, sounding nervous. It’s probably what she wanted.
I butted in. “Wait, don’t tell me they’re Piper’s tickets?”
She blinked rapidly. Probably trying to process why a mere junior interrupted her. “Excuse me?”
A cold heaviness expanded in my core. I took a deep breath. “Are you buying Piper Kraft’s tickets?”
She eyed me up and down. “That’s right. You know her. You went out with Piper last year. But you broke up over the summer.”
She didn’t say hi when she came in, though she knew plenty about my dating life.
Nathan chimed in, “Yup, that’s when he dumped her.”
I wanted to pound him into a bloody pulp.
Daniella sneered. “She really liked you. Did you know that? And you crushed her, Luca.”
Ugh, now we’re on a first name basis. I didn’t need her stirring up painful memories I’ve tried hard to forget. Piper may have been devastated. But so was I. I just hid it better.
I rubbed my forehead and shook my head. I was dying to ask more about what happened, trying to get a handle on things. But Daniella’s words stung, and I couldn’t think of anything to say.
She turned to Nathan. “I’m not sure if I should buy her tickets. I don’t have anyone to go with.” She pouted without a hint of embarrassment. That surprised me. Even though she acted conceited, Daniella had a right to be. She was hot. I mean smokin’ hot. How’s it possible that no one asked her?
Her perfume cast an enchanting spell. The scent of fresh cut roses and blood orange had Nathan slobbering like a drooling puppy. Probably before he knew it, the words flew out his mouth. “Are you kidding? I’ll take you. I mean, if you’ll go with me, that is.”
She squealed and clapped her hands several times. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. What I really mean to say is,” Nathan slid off his chair and went down on one knee, “Daniella, will you go to the prom with me?”
He actually begged her. What a tool.
“Really? You’ll take me? Of course, I’ll go with you.” She chirped and bounced up and down. Hot girls got away with bouncing. Everyone else looked foolish. For a second, a shot of relief flashed through her eyes, then she basked in his begging.
Everyone watched Daniella in her skintight jeans, hug the heck out of Nathan.
Mr. Reagan peeked over his newspaper. “What seems to be the issue back there? And who has something to munch on?” He wore gray slacks, a short sleeve white dress shirt, a thin black tie, and yes, a pocket protector.
Nathan ended the hug, smiling ear to ear. “I have red licorice. And I’m just discussing the date or rather my date with Daniella here.”
Mr. Reagan smirked, looking disappointed. “Nobody brought donuts or a muffin? No? Is everyone off their game this morning?”
We sat there shrugging sorry to him.
“Well, bring ‘em up here Nathan.”
Mr. Reagan had a weird sense of humor and ranked as my favorite teacher. I wasn’t sure if he wore those clothes because he liked them, or to mock the way Science teachers dressed. Every now and then, I swear he smelled like weed.
Nathan took a few steps forward and tossed him the candy.
Reagan snatched them out of the air and nodded thanks. “And try to keep things to a dull roar.” He bit into a red string and went back to his paper. Last year he worked here as a student teacher. He wasn’t much older than us and stood at a gigantic six-foot-five. I heard he played hockey in college. I wrestled in the one-hundred-thirty-four pound weight division, and he looked a hundred pounds heavier.
If we didn’t get out of hand, he let people talk in here. He remembered how it felt to be us.
Nathan beamed and sat down, bathing in the afterglow of his victory.
His bouncy date began making plans. “Do you think there’s time for you to hire us a limo?”
I noticed how she fluttered her lashes and showed her dimples. I read Gone With the Wind last year and Scarlett O’Hara used the same tactics. I had never witnessed it so clearly in the wild before, but they were the same predator.
“A limo?” Nathan’s voice pitched higher. His brows formed an upside-down V, probably counting dollar signs and wondering what he’d just gotten himself into. “So, when are you buying the tickets?” he asked, dodging the question.
“After fifth period. At her locker. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” he said under his breath.
With a heavy sigh, I sank in my chair and ran my hands through my hair.
Daniella glanced my way then went back to grilling Nathan. Her red fingernails danced on his forearm. “So, about that limo, I like white better than black…”
My chest raced like the Indy 500, and I didn’t hear another word. Now, I was the one crushed and my heart ached for Piper. I knew how much she wanted to go. Her mom had put a lot of pressure on her, too. “It’s a rite of passage, sweetheart.” As if a girl needed more stress to find a prom date.
Plenty of people didn’t care about their proms. It wasn’t their thing, and that’s fine. I’d heard of some schools where most kids didn’t attend. They claimed only the dorks went. Everyone’s choice was their own. But I knew Piper wanted to go.
I glanced over at Nathan. Daniella described a Radiant Orchid corsage she had to have, and he wore a mask of financial ruin. But where had he gotten the guts to ask Daniella at the spur of the moment? Could I do the same with Piper? Should I do the same with Piper? Would she even go if I asked? We hadn’t spoken all year. She might just knee me in the balls.
The weight of the world fell heavy on my shoulders, and it came with a nervous stomach. I needed my friend Pablo’s advice. After our breakup, they remained friends.
The rest of detention dragged on. Finally, the bell rang and I bolted in front of Nathan and Daniella, scrambling out of the room. I had until the end of fifth period before Piper sold her tickets. Then it would be too late.
Chapter 2
Before Second Period
As much as I wanted to race through the hall, it was a traffic jam. The morning’s overapplied fragrances—perfume, cologne, and acne cream oozed by.
When I cruised past the cafeteria the pizza ovens began warming up and a new scent flooded the air. The aroma of burnt cheese and pepperoni called to my empty stomach.
But I had bigger issues than food. What about Piper? I felt responsible for her missing the prom but didn’t know if I should. We broke up a long time ago.
I got to my locker with three minutes to switch out my books, find my friend Pablo, explain my dilemma, and make it to Psychology before the bell rang. If you’re a minute or two late Mr. Reiner didn’t usually hand out tardy slips, but I didn’t want to push it.
The lockers broke down by class year and then by alphabetical order. Pablo and I were both juniors, and in the same hallway. His last name was Salinas, several classrooms from mine.
Locks clinked opened around me, but I fumbled with my combination twice.
Some of my friends had disgusting lockers. Mine stayed pretty clean. I had a green bumper sticker with white lettering on the inside. John Marshall High Wrestling. I used to have photo booth pictures of Piper and me hanging up, some goofy and some loving. Not anymore.
I said hi to a couple of people, including Megan, the girl next to me. Suddenly, I took a punch to my kidney.
“What’s up man?”
“Dude that really hurt, if I didn’t have huge news right now, I’d kick your ass,” I said to my best friend.
“You wish,” Pablo replied, very nonchalant. He wore a green John Marshall Wrestling hoodie, jeans, and white high tops. He was right. I couldn’t kick his ass. He was way bigger than me. He wrestled at one hundred fifty-six pounds and those guys looked like body builders. Besides, he won the state championship two years in a row, while I had barely placed third.
Pablo was Puerto Rican with a head of curly black hair. At home, his family only spoke Spanish. But his parents knew English. Whenever I went over to his house his mother was very friendly, but his father simply scowled. Pablo claimed that’s all he ever did, and I shouldn’t take it personally.
Unfortunately, Pablo had really bad acne. Last summer his parents finally let him go to the dermatologist. On a ninety-degree day, we rode our bikes there. Our t-shirts were soaked to the bone and we looked like slobs. The doctor said he’d never seen anyone with such an advanced case who hadn’t been to a physician yet. Now, with prescription medication, his face was clearing up.
If we had a vote for the most popular junior, he’d win in a landslide. A gorgeous senior named Jessica Kartin recently asked him to the prom. She had a decent chance of winning prom queen. They weren’t dating, even though he’d love to be. But who knew what would happen afterwards?
He asked, “What’s up, what’s so important?”
We had ninety seconds to get to class. “Let’s go, I’ll tell you along the way.” I slammed my locker door, but not before peeking in Megan’s mirror. My grandmother’s olive skin and brown, nearly black eyes stared back. Thankfully, my thick black hair was still falling right, instead of looking like I stuck my hand in a socket. Plus, there weren’t any new stains on my Journey concert t-shirt, jeans, or white high tops. So far I’d survived the morning unscathed.
“I just heard a crazy story about Piper.” My books already felt heavy, pulling my shoulders lower.
“Piper huh? Haven’t heard that name from you in a while,” he said as we brushed past other students.
“I know, right. Anyway, in detention, I was sitting behind Daniella—”
“I can’t stand her,” Pablo interrupted.
“That’s not the point right now.” Seventy-five seconds left.
“Then get to it already.” He joked and shoved me toward a locker. I tried to withstand the push, but slammed into a freshman instead. The poor kid’s books and papers flew through the air.
