Page 18 of Princess and Country

Dahlia

My heart bounced in my chest. I sucked in a breath, but it didn’t go through. A high-pitched gasp mixed with a cough tumbled out instead.

Was my face firetruck red?

I slid my shaky hands under my thighs.

Jeff asked me to be his prom date.

Jeff asked me to be his prom date.

Jeff asked me to be his prom date.

Would repeating it over and over make it sound as if it was no big deal? Would it make it sound real?

Jeff had a dozen girls at school—all tall, pretty, and older than me—waiting for him to ask them.

But he asked me. Me. Dahlia Ellis, fifteen-year-old freshman, best friend to his younger brother.

I blinked. And blinked again.

I swallowed, trying to bring moisture back to my mouth.

My lungs burned. When did I stop breathing?

A soft thud on my left startled me.

My eyes landed on Carter, who I forgot was still seated next to me. He gave me a nod—so small most people wouldn’t have noticed it—and curled his spine forward. His eyes bled with hurt. And pain. His shoulders drooped in defeat. My heart broke into tiny pieces and scattered in my chest. I exhaled.

My eyes traveled to Jeff. Looking hot in his blue shirt with short, dark, tousled hair and eyes full of expectation.

The dimples in his cheeks, as he offered me a shy, lopsided smile, fused the pieces of my heart back together. One by one. Jeff hooked his thumbs into his jeans and shrugged. There was so much hope in his eyes that I couldn’t look away.

All my senses heightened. My ears caught Jeff’s small intake of breath. The whole marching band played in my chest. And I felt every note. My skin tingled. I parted my lips to gulp as much air as possible, but all that came through was Jeff’s sandalwood and cinnamon scent. So strong and intoxicating, I was lightheaded.

For a moment, I forgot all about Carter and his mama watching us.

My heart switched from bouncing to dancing inside my chest.

“So?”

Jeff bit his lower lip and stared at me with a gleam I’d never seen before.

When did I become mute?

This.

This was what I’d been wishing for, in secret, for weeks now. Every single time I wrote “Dahlia Hills” in my notebook.

I got up from my seat and approached Jeff on trembling legs. Raising my gaze to his, I wound my arms around his neck, and Jeff picked me up.

With my eyes swimming in his, I found my voice.

“I’d like to. Very much.” His grin spread all over his face. Now feeling like an imposter, I asked, “Are you sure you want to take me?”

Jeff bobbed his head. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. “Yeah. I do. So, is it a yes?”

I nodded a little too fast, unable to erase that silly smile from my face.