Hypothetical Heart (Farewell Fairwood #2)

Chapter 22

22

“ W ow,” I say out of pure awe as Winnie descends the staircase of her house. “I thought this was only something that happens in the movies.”

My tux could never compare to the view of Winnie, with her blonde hair in tight curls, lips a perfect shade of pink, and a hot pink satin dress conformed to her perfect body. She not only looks elegant but also like herself—the girl I’ve known my entire life, beautiful as ever.

“Well…” She gets to the bottom of the stairs, taking the hand I’m holding out to her. “What do you think?”

“You’re perfect.” I’m practically gasping for air, looking at her. “Stunning.”

“Look.” She twirls, showing me the bow on the back.

She’s precious. “Amazing choice,” I tell her.

“You look good too,” she says, fixing my bowtie before smoothing her hands down my suit jacket.

“Thank you, honey.”

The two of us walk over to my house, where the rest of the group and all of our parents are waiting for pictures. Winnie was going to meet me over there once she got ready, but I told her not to.

I wanted this moment for us, the one where I get to contemplate how the hell I let my mom talk us into this again, and how I’m not even mad about it.

Genevieve and Eloise are the first to greet us at the front door, both of them done up just like Winnie. Genevieve’s dress is a periwinkle blue color, and Eloise’s is a dark purple.

Jameson and Genevieve are going together as a couple, and Eloise and Luke are going as friends, just like Winnie and I. It feels like homecoming all over again.

Taking pictures is much easier this go around than they were during homecoming. The only bickering we hear from Jameson and Genevieve is clearly out of love, and no one gets stabbed with a boutonniere.

“Good job, Genova, no bodily harm,” Jameson pretends to praise her when she properly pins the flower.

“Want me to try again?” she seethes. “You are wearing white this time.”

“God, you two, get a grip,” I joke as Winnie attempts to pin my boutonniere on.

“You better watch what you say, man,” Jameson warns, eyeing the way Winnie is still trying to pin the flower, making us all laugh.

A little while later, after everyone’s boutonnieres and corsages are safely placed, we all stand in front of the pond, getting our separate pictures taken while our parents shout instructions from all different directions.

Winnie and I even get a few pictures with Suzie standing between us.

Everyone is moving around, positioning themselves in different locations, when Winnie takes a step back, her foot slipping and causing her to stumble.

Everyone gasps as I go to grab her, and I’m able to catch her for the most part, except for the fact her feet are fully submerged in the water of the pond, along with the bottom part of her dress.

“Sweetheart,” I sigh, looking at her pitiful expression.

She has a deer-in-headlights look on her face, like she doesn’t know what to do or where to go. I pull her out by under her arms and set her on the grass.

“Oh my gosh.” She looks down at her soaked dress before looking back up at me, tears in her eyes. “Oh my gosh,” she repeats.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her quickly. “We’ll get it figured out. We still have a few hours until the dance.”

I can tell she’s embarrassed, trying not to die of mortification. I grab her hand, pulling her toward the house and away from the onlooking crowd. “We’ll be back!” I yell.

“Logan, what am I going to do?” she asks as we step into the house.

“Let’s go to the bathroom.” I direct her down the hall and into my parents’ master bathroom with my hand resting on her lower back.

She sits on the toilet seat while I rummage through the linen closet, finally finding what I was looking for her.

“A hair dryer?” Winnie asks, not looking impressed.

“Yeah, we’re going to dry you off.” Thankfully, the pond is man-made with a filtration system, so we only have to worry about drying the dress and not the possibility of it being ruined by dirty pond water.

“Logan, that’s going to take forever.”

“Well good thing my mom has two of them.” I pull a second one out. “Do you have one at your house?”

She nods, and I pull my phone out of my suit pocket to call Genevieve and ask her to run next door and grab Winnie’s hair dryer.

Winnie puts her head in her hands, clearly upset about the situation, as I plug in the hair dryers.

“Hey,” I grab her chin, pulling her face up to look up at me. “You can’t cry and mess up your makeup because I won’t know how to fix that.”

She laughs momentarily before her eyes downturn again. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I turn on the hairdryers, the bathroom filling with a loud whooshing sound. “WHAT? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Her apologizing for things she can’t control has no effect on me.

I sit on the floor of the bathroom in front of her, holding both of the hair dryers toward her dress. I sit like this for a while, trying both to fix her dress and lift her spirits. We talk loudly over the sound of the blowing air, Winnie plays music over the surround sound of the bathroom, and every time she tries to apologize, I shoot it down.

Eventually, her hands fall to my hair, and I lean my head forward, resting my cheek on her thigh, where her dress isn’t soaked. Her fingers are moving through the strands carefully so she doesn’t dishevel it too much, and it sends a chill up my spine.

“Thank you for this,” she says, in a tone quieter than I thought I’d be able to hear.

“I’d do anything for you, Win.”

“Thank you for that, too.”

I stand up, still holding the blow dryers toward the bottom of her dress as I place a kiss on the top of her head and then her forehead.

I step back when I hear Genevieve enter the bathroom, with another hairdryer. She sits next to me and helps me continue to dry Winnie’s dress, the bathroom becoming even louder with the added sound. “Wren is looking through her closet with Eloise to try and find you a new pair of shoes!” she yells.

I give Winnie a knowing look, one that says , don’t you dare apologize.

For the next half hour, we stay there, Genevieve and I sitting on the floor in front of Winnie, her using a handheld mirror to touch up her makeup, and eventually, the rest of the group trickles in. Eloise brings a new pair of heels, Jameson stands behind Genevieve, rubbing her shoulders periodically, and Luke takes a seat on the countertop next to the sink.

It feels like a defining moment in our friend group. One where being surrounded by your friends and the love we bring into each other’s lives is much more important than any prom festivities.

By the time the dress is nearly all the way dry, it’s time for us to leave for dinner.

“See, we’re not even missing our reservation,” I say as I help Winnie stand in her new shoes.

She gives me a thankful look, squeezing my hand three times. I do it back.

T o everybody's relief, dinner and getting to the dance goes much better than pictures did.

Walking into the ballroom where prom is being held, I’m completely blown away. With Genevieve and I being president and vice president of class officers, we were in charge of planning the majority of prom, but really, it was all Genevieve. She’s way better at this type of stuff, and I had no problem giving her the reins.

“This turned out amazing, Gen.” She smiles into my side hug. “Seriously, I can’t believe you planned all this.”

The entire place is decorated with an enchanted garden theme, with different plants and fairy lights all over the place. Outside, where the actual garden area is, is even more surreal. Everyone is in complete awe.

The girls force us to take pictures of them in front of the different floral backgrounds, and we easily oblige. Luke has two of his cameras with him, one being a film camera to give the more old-fashioned looking pictures, and the other one being a high-quality DSLR for pictures that look like they came out of a wedding book.

“Have you thought about doing any type of professional photography?” I ask him as he takes pictures of Genevieve and Jameson.

“Not really.” He shrugs. “It’s just a hobby.”

“Well, you should think about it. Your pictures are really good, Luke.” I hope he knows how sincere I’m being.

He takes some of Winnie and I next, and then more of the girls, and eventually ones of all of us.

Afterward, he pulls out three different disposable cameras and hands one to me, Genevieve, and Eloise. “Take pictures of whatever you want, and I’ll get them developed.”

We all go our separate ways, Winnie and I heading for the dance floor, Eloise and Luke going toward the spiked punch, and I have no idea where Jameson and Genevieve have disappeared to.

“Is it time for us to pull out our ballroom dancing skills and show everyone up?” I joke as I take her hand.

“Absolutely not.” She laughs.

“I don’t care how I’m dancing, as long as it’s with you.”

She spins to face me, smiling. “Always.”

It’s much later into the night when we’re told to take our seats, and Winnie and I find our friends at our designated table for prom king and queen to be announced.

This intermission also gives administration time to collect the kids who have misbehaved and kick them out. If there’s anything to know about Fairwood Prep and the dances they throw, it’s that prep school kids being let loose in a ballroom is never a good idea. There’s been too many instances of jumping from tables and smashing glasses.

“Okay, everyone, money goes in the pot!” Eloise sits down next to me, putting an empty glass in the middle of the table. “Solidify your bets now.”

“What bets?” I ask, watching as everyone at our table pulls out their wallets.

“Whether you’re going to be prom king or not,” Genevieve answers like it’s obvious, shoving a fifty into the glass.

I look toward Winnie, who’s fishing out her own money. “Whoa, whoa, you better be voting for me.”

She hands Genevieve her money. “Obviously.”

With that, I throw my own money toward the middle table. “Put me down for no.”

“The one and only!” Eloise smiles.

“Wait, so if you’re all betting the same thing, then what decides who wins?”

“There are… other stipulations,” Jameson answers.

“And telling you would skew the results, so don’t ask,” Genevieve adds. “Your bet still stands, just don’t ask any further questions.”

Within the next few minutes, the announcer gets ready to say the names of prom king and queen, and all my friends start stomping and slapping the table.

“And your prom king and queen are…” I hold my breath, not really caring about the results but knowing I have a bet on the line. “LOGAN CALLAGHAN AND WINNIFRED CARTER!”

I throw my head back, laughing just like everyone else at my table, before standing and holding out my hand to Winnie.

“Queen.” I pretend to curtsey, kissing her hand. The cheers around us only get louder, especially from our friends.

Winnie’s face goes pink because having to go up in front of this many people is her worst nightmare. I lean my head on her shoulder as we make our way toward the dance floor. “This is a good thing, no big deal.”

She takes a big breath, standing up straighter when the crown is placed on her head. “How many is this for you?” she asks me.

“Six.” All four years homecoming and now two proms.

The DJ lets me pick the song, and I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of stepping on the dance floor alongside Winnie, crowns on both of our heads. This isn’t like the time I had to dance with Genevieve, or any other girl, when we won homecoming king and queen. This is my Winnie .

Lover by Taylor Swift starts playing through the ballroom, and I watch Winnie’s face light up as we begin to dance around the floor, her hands on my shoulders and mine on her waist.

“This feels like it’s been a long time coming,” she whispers in my ear as she rests her head on my chest.

“It has been,” I tell her, my hand running along the open back of her dress. “Every time I was dancing with someone else up here, I was only ever staring at you.”

“I know.” That has been our life. Staring at each other in crowded rooms, never knowing when it would be the right time for us to finally find our way together.

Now, though, people voted for us to dance together in the middle of the crowd and not just wait for each other on the outskirts.

It’s every dream I’ve ever had come true.

The song ends right as our faces grow close, and we stumble, Winnie stepping on my feet as I stare down at her lips. I know now would be an inappropriate time to kiss her, especially with this many people watching, but the urge is there and strong .

Instead of on the lips, I kiss her on the cheek, and as we walk back to our table, I see Eloise celebrating while collecting her winnings from the middle of the table. “I knew you’d kiss her!” she shouts toward me, throwing the dollar bills up in the air and letting them rain over her.

Everyone laughs, and for the rest of the night, Eloise playfully throws money at us like we’re her very own strippers.

At one point, Briar Hart comes up to us, hugging all of the girls. “What, you’re not going to throw cash at me?” She jokingly asks Eloise as she pulls away. Eloise’s hands rest on her shoulder, and she leans in to whisper something none of us can hear.I sense something going on there, but choose to not say anything about it.

“How’s the lax season going?” I ask her.

I know she already signed to Saint Claire’s on a full ride and that she’s carrying the current team, but I like hearing it from her.

“Pretty good, we could use some work on the defensive end, but other than that, I think we have a good shot at states.”

“Have you gotten any other offers?” Last I heard, she had D1 offers from almost every school in the country.

“The Ivy leagues were all fighting over me for a bit, and USC, Stanford?—”

“Basically, every school in the country,” Genevieve finishes for her.

Briar smacks her arm. “I was trying to be modest, Valley.”

“No need,” I tell her. “Accomplishments are a good thing, not something to be ashamed of. Plus, I like hearing about it.” She nods in thanks.

“Well, are you guys going to any after-parties?”

“Are you hosting?” Genevieve asks, and Briar nods. “Then we’ll be there.”

“Well, I’m leaving now to go set up, but I’ll see you guys soon!” She waves as she walks away and a few moments later, Eloise follows after her.

Winnie has somehow migrated to the other side of the circle, and I head toward her.

“Are we leaving?” she asks.

“Pretty soon,” I say, clutching her waist. “I think Gen and E are going to Briar’s house for an after-party, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want t?—"

“Okay, then we’re leaving!” Genevieve’s yell cuts her off. “Who’s going to Briar’s after party with us? We’re leaving!”

Winnie looks over at me with wide eyes. “What’s the rush?” she whispers and I shrug, having no idea.

“Are you still okay going?” I ask as we all exit the ballroom, waking through the parking lot and toward the limo.

She smiles up at me. “Yeah, of course. I want to be wherever you are.”

“Anywhere you are is a good place to be,” I reply, grabbing her bicep as she steps into the limo.

“I’m glad the feeling is mutual.”