But, table thirty-three was more than empty. It was missing.

Maybe it had gone so badly that they took down anything no one bid on.

OMG. I was a bigger failure than... well, a failure. I was like the uber-failure.

"Stop. If you hyperventilate and throw up on my shoes or something, nothing is saving this friendship." Justin glanced down the hall and jerked his head toward a really efficient looking girl with a clipboard racing toward us. Her ponytail swung behind her like a schoolyard swing.

"Excuse me?" I wasn't sure she'd see me, but she ground to a halt, clipboard braced in front of her as if it held the answer to life. I guess, for me, it might have. "What happened to item thirty-three?"

I thought she'd have to reference her notes, but instead she flashed me a huge smile-the kind where you see her upper and lower teeth. "Oh! Thirty-three was picked up early. Someone wanted to get that one home right away."

"Wow," I glanced at Justin, a little disappointed when all he did was shrug. "So, who bought it?"

Her smile faded a bit so that I could only see her upper teeth. "Well, he asked that we not release his name."

Her fingers curled around the loose corner of her list. She either really didn't want us to push or she was dying to be forced into telling. Before I could decide, Princ.i.p.al Edwards shouted at her and she scurried off. No smile.

"Sooo..." I let my voice trail off hoping Justin would fill in the blanks exactly like I wanted him to.

"I have no idea. He could have. But, honestly, I'm not sure how he'd keep a big painting a secret at the house."

I thought of trying to sneak anything into that cozy farmhouse between Mrs. Parker and the twins and Thomas. And there died that dream.

Music poured out of the gym, some bad, cleaned-up version of gansta rap leaving me wondering where exactly my peers thought we were growing up. Crepe paper streamers curtained the entrance creating a hazy view of the gym's transformation before we entered. Little dis...o...b..a.l.l.s lit up the corners in flashes of blue and red and green.

"Do you want a drink?" Justin leaned down so I could hear him, but his gaze was focused on the far side of the room by the darkened bleachers.

I shifted just in time to see Luke pivot back toward the group he was with.

"Does he really think we're here together?" I couldn't help asking. Justin knew the plan so there was nothing to hide. He knew begging might be involved.

Justin's arm slid around my shoulder and he broke out that deadly Parker grin. "He might. I may or may not have hinted that you were coming here as my date."

I started to pull away, but his hand tightened.

"Let him wonder, Amy."

I was pretty sure there was no wondering going on. There wasn't even any covert glancing going on. There was only basking in the attention of every girl in school who wanted a piece of the new guy. The hot new guy.

Man, I wish he was kind of ugly.

It is a sad revelation to realize you're on a fake date and it's the best one you've ever had. Justin made sure I had something to drink. He introduced me to his friends. We danced to the songs I liked, sat out the ones I didn't.

What a shame I'd fallen for a different Parker boy.

I was laughing up at that crooked grin when the DJ stepped aside to let Princ.i.p.al Edwards take the mic shadowed by the efficient-looking, clipboard-carrying, won't-tell-me-who-bought-my-painting girl.

Justin's arm settled across my shoulder again as I waited to see if I'd get to offer myself up for public humiliation or not.

So, what would it be? Would I get tossed into the spotlight and claim the boy of my dreams? Or would I win and make my way through the throngs, the heat of the spotlight following me, only to hold my hand out and hear him say, "Tough luck. You had your chance."

Or I could just lose.

Yeah. Losing looked pretty good just then.

Rachel and Jared appeared, pushing their way through the semi-circle to join us. She really rocked as a best friend. Her hand found mine and wrapped it snugly in her own.

"You know," she started. "As grand gestures go, this one is pretty quiet. No one is really going to know it's a big time thing for you except a handful. To most people, you just did a fundraiser and now you're going to have a nice dance. It's all good."

I sucked in a breath. Right. All good.

Across the gym, the soccer team hung out in a tight cl.u.s.ter. Some with girlfriends. Some with girl shadows. I scanned their crowd catching both Chris and Luke smiling down at girls who were not me.

Time to rethink. Plan B.

"Justin, say I win-"

"You win."

I stared at him, wondering where the bad second grade joke came from at a moment like this.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"Wouldn't it be fun if, say, I picked you to be my king? Just on the off chance I win and all."

Justin took me by the shoulders and forced me to face him. "Amy, this is your chance. You're going to win-I know it. And for tonight you'll be the RV It-girl. This is one of those unique lifetime opportunities. Do you really want to waste it with me?"

I glanced around at the ma.s.ses knowing I'd never flit through them comfortably let alone count myself as one of them. "You are kinda hot, you know."

"Yeah. I know. Not the point."

I swatted his shoulder. He had too much of his brother in him anyway.

"Seriously. If you panic, I'll be standing right here." He looked over my shoulder toward the soccer team. "But don't panic. Okay?"

Princ.i.p.al Edwards hefted the mic off its stand. A resounding thud-thud-thud echoed as he tapped it to check if it had magically turned itself off since the DJ had introduced him.

"Happy Homecoming Weekend!" The man could get excited about anything, but even he was juicing it up a little much. "We had an amazing turnout for our auction and raised enough money for the fall teams' new uniforms. And now, for the moment you've been waiting for..." He raised an envelope in his hand and the DJ kicked on a synthesized drum roll.

Justin squeezed my shoulder again and whispered, "Don't panic."

"It was a very close race," Mr. Edwards continued. "At the last minute, we had a bid for the winner that pushed the crown her way."

Beside me, Rachel bounced on her toes whispering, "It's you! It's you!"

I shook my head, not sure how I wanted the contest to go. "It could still be someone else."

"But," Mr. Edward continued. "Before I make the announcement, I want to tell you all how very proud I am to serve at a school where the desire to help others overtook the need to run a popularity contest."

Rachel snorted. "Yeah, because keeping the popularity vote that is Prom Court cuts all that right out."

"And so, without further ado, the winner..." He broke open the envelope with an overdone flourish and raised it toward the spotlight to read as if he didn't already know whose name was written there. "With a last minute anonymous bid-Amy Whalen."

I stood there and did exactly what Justin told me not to do. I panicked.

"Amy," Justin whispered. "It's you."

He gave me a little shove as the light swung our way. I froze, suddenly shocked to have everyone not only looking at me, but notice me.

Justin's hand at my back still urged me forward, but his voice came low and clear at my ear. "I'm right here. You can take the envelope and come right back if you need to."

I don't want to run crazy with the symbolism or anything, but I took a deep breath and-literally-stepped into the spotlight.

I worked free of the crowd and made my way to the stage where Mr. Edwards held the mic and spoke in low tones to a now-frazzled looking Efficient Girl.

At the top of the rickety stairs, Miss Efficient waited with a shiny tiara and an oversized crown about as royal looking as the cardboard ones from Burger King. She immediately pulled me into a tight hug. "I wanted to tell you when you asked who bought it, but Chris made me promise to take the "bought by" tag down. Which didn't make a lot sense. But I figured he must be in on the surprise!"

Oh. My. G.o.d.

She put the tiara on my head, giving me another bright smile as she did. The upper and lower teeth smile. "You aren't going to be sick, are you?"

"Maybe," I answered, but not completely for the reason she thought. Chris? "But not until I'm off stage."

G.o.d, I wished Cheryl had won.

I couldn't believe Chris bought my painting, especially since it was of Luke coming to rescue me. What was he expecting? Was he trying to Grand Gesture with my Grand Gesture? Did he think I'd choose him because he'd made me queen? That I'd forget the hurt and embarra.s.sment and place that crown on his head? Did I owe him?

That he'd suddenly be the right guy?

Even as I herded those questions out of my mind, I pictured him the moment Luke had left us standing in the hall.

Chris had looked vulnerable and sorry. He'd done and said all the right things. And since then, kept his distance while still keeping an eye on me. Waiting after practice till Rachel picked me up. Making sure undercla.s.smen carried the table back to the locker room... Not hovering and forcing me to choose. But now Fate-or Chris-was forcing the choice.

I suddenly felt like I couldn't win and I couldn't lose.

Mr. Edwards was pushing the smiler away and moving me toward the front of the stage where the stairs dipped toward the floor. "Queen Amy, you may choose your king."

I sought Justin out amidst all the vaguely familiar faces. He was right where he said he'd be and, somehow just knowing he was there made everything so much easier. At the bottom of the stairs, the spotlight shifted, following me through the crowd toward the far end of the gym where the soccer team hung out with their groupies.

That's when it dawned on me. These people, these "peers" hadn't known I even existed for years. I could count on one hand the people who really mattered. The rest... they were just background noise. Noise that got in my way as I waded toward the bleachers where the biggest choice I'd make waited.

From behind me, as the group gave way, the spotlight showed a path to Chris at the end, lit up like a Christmas angel. He gazed down at me as I stopped beside him, his eyes bright like those night lights he loved to play under so much and my heart stopped as I considered my next move.

One choice would leave my heart bruised, the other his.

But before I even said a thing, his smile dimmed a little and he gave a tiny nod before stepping out of the way.

"Amy." His voice was low, but still managed to catch me up short. "If he says no, I'll be right here."

I couldn't make eye contact, couldn't even look at him as I nodded knowing I'd never do that to either of us.

The path didn't wait for me to start to clear this time. Everyone on that team knew where I was going and the poor boy couldn't have hidden if he wanted to.

At the end of my yellow brick road-okay, so it was a foul line-Luke stood, one hand in his pocket the other fidgeting at his side. I stopped in front of him, praying that if he was going to let me down, it would be after the dance.

"Would you like to dance?" I asked, realizing how lame that sounded but not knowing what else to say. Great preparation there, loser.

His face was hard, that crooked grin hidden in the tight line of his lips. Hopefully his Mr. Manners side would kick his stubborn-streak's b.u.t.t and he'd put me out of my misery before the entire gym started laughing.

"Amy, you're messing up your chance." He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. "If you grab it now, you'll be set with him. You'll be with the guy you wanted."

I didn't know what to say. I stood there dumbfounded. Not only did he not want me, but he was pushing me toward the guy he'd been trying to convince me was bad for me since the day we met.

"Don't blow this, Amy." His hand fisted at his side. "I didn't have Jared spend all of Half-Time trying to win that painting so you could go the safe route."

As soon as the words left his mouth I knew he hadn't meant to say them. I could see him practically trying to grab them back from the air between us.

My heart stopped and my eyes fell shut, afraid of what he was saying. Afraid of what I'd see.

"You want me to pick Chris?" I waited, still not looking, forcing him to say the words out loud.

When the answer finally came it was low, barely a whisper in my ear. He was so near I could smell his soap and feel the heat rolling off him.

"I want you to have everything you deserve. I want you to be happy. I want you to know you're worth whatever the price was."

My eyes flew open, afraid I was reading into what he wasn't saying. Afraid I was hearing what I wanted to hear. I took his fidgety hand in mine, tethering him to me, afraid he'd bolt.

He stared down where our hands wove us together. "All week I watched you watching him. How he ignored you the whole time, and I wanted to beat the c.r.a.p out of him again."

OMG. Not even a chance this was happening. Not. One. Chance.

I squeezed his hand, hoping he'd look at me now that my eyes were open-in more ways than one. "I was watching him because I felt bad. Because I told him no. Because I told him I wanted you."

His head came up, searching my face as I continued.

"If you say yes, if you take this ugly crown, I'll be with the guy I wanted. The one who always saw me." I looked up past those thick lashes and hoped my heart and gut were right. And then I did it. I begged. "Be the guy who wanted me. Who wants me."

His other hand slid from his pocket and took the hokey bra.s.s-plated crown and shoved it on his head. "I've been that guy since the first moment I saw you."

That crooked grin hitched back up, finally showing itself again, as his gaze lowered to my mouth. I knew-I knew-what he was going to do. Even standing there in the spotlight with everyone looking at us, and pretty much guaranteeing a detention for PDA, I smiled back.

Luke's free hand came up to brush my hair away from my face.

"Thanks for not giving up on me," I said the moment before his lips brushed over mine and everything faded as colors crashed into one another behind my eyelids.

In the distance, I heard the team start hooting at us and Luke pulled back, his cheeks flushed pink as he glanced toward them.

The music started and his hand fell to my back, leading me to the center of the gym. I didn't even care that the tiara dug into my scalp when I rested my head on his shoulder. All I cared about was me and him and the fact that there was nothing secret about the way we felt about each other.