Chapter 8: Lunch

Homecoming ballots went up on Monday, and Paisley was on every single poster.

She had made them herself, glossy and perfect, with a crown graphic and a tagline in pink script.

"Queen Paisley and her King."

The king's name was left blank on purpose.

Everyone knew whose it was supposed to be.

By lunch, the cafeteria was a sea of pink glitter.

I sat at the end of the long yearbook table with my sandwich and my camera, and I took a picture of a girl taping a poster to a trash can.

Cade sat beside me.

He had sat beside me at lunch every day since the fire, which the whole school had noticed and discussed in detail.

His hands were out of bandages now and wrapped in only a light wrap, pink and shiny where the burns were healing.

He could hold a fork.

We had not talked about the essay since Saturday, and I knew he was working up to something.

I could see it in the way he kept looking at me when he thought I wasn't watching.

A shadow fell across the table.

"Hi, guys."

Paisley stood at the end of our bench in her squad warm-up jacket, with two girls from the dance team behind her.

She held a clipboard to her chest and a pink ballot in her other hand.

"I just wanted to give you your ballots," she said.

"Everyone has to vote."

Her eyes were on Cade.

"I know it's early, but I wanted to ask you something."

"The student council is doing a tradition this year."

"The king and queen walk out together at halftime."

"And the king gets to choose who he walks out with."

She smiled.

"I was hoping you'd choose me."

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