You Should See Me in a Crown: Chapters 30–39

Hell hath no fury like a PomBot scorned.

It’s like the world’s worst reality show, and I’m the sloppy cast member who goes viral every week with a new set of catchphrases immortalized in GIFs.

All your students are talking about the obstruction of justice, the blatant homophobia, that is occurring at your institution.

Looking at the way Mr. Wilson shrinks in his seat as he looks at her phone makes it more obvious to me than ever how voracious this girl can be when she gets an idea in her head. It’s incredible what she can do when she uses her powers for good and not evil.

“You’ve got a lot to worry about right now, and I shouldn’t be one of those things. I’m just a little under the weather.”
Under the weather. An inherited blood disease like sickle cell is always more than just being “under the weather.”

We’re supposed to go after the girls’ show choir, which is currently performing a rousing jazz square-laden performance of some pop song that I don’t know the words to.

She looks so proud as we jog through the doors and get in formation, but that does nothing to quell my fear of performing in front of a large audience of my peers.

We hop up, in tandem, and lean to our left and then back to our right before doing that shoot dance with one arm and one leg that I can’t seem to grasp but everyone else is absolutely owning.

More than half the gym is wearing the design that has become synonymous with me, Campbell’s infamous, subversive...prom queen wannabe.

She was Dr. L’s protégé once upon a time, and I’d always sort of hoped that one day I might be hers.

There’s a LEGO tower in front of us, teetering precariously.

I swear, nothing fazes that man except losing to Robbie at a game of Jeopardy!

“Liz, your brother wants to know how pissed you are,” she deadpans.

I’m exhausted. Like, bone-deep, viscerally worn down.

“Liz, please tell me you made court. Please, I’m begging you, for everything good and holy in this world, please tell me that my sister is going to have her nerdy but somehow secretly amazing self on the prom court docket next week.”

“Did you forget it’s Campbell County, Lighty? Things can always get worse.” He rolls his eyes. “Need I remind you about the #ReplacementEmme fiasco?”

Granny isn’t a naturally verbose woman, and something about hearing a story spill from her lips makes me both incredibly happy and incredibly sad all at once.

She never left me to fend for myself.

I’m going to go to prom with my best friends and keep working on this cool new platonic relationship I have going with Amanda.

"Be nice to your sickly, can’t-attend-prom-and-is-living- vicariously -through-you little brother.”

Amanda’s dress has a floor-length black skirt with a high waist that cinches in...

Amanda shakes her hand and offers a tentative smile.

They’re identical, little bundles of white orchids with sprigs of lavender interspersed throughout.

They’re identical, little bundles of white orchids with sprigs of lavender interspersed throughout.

I suddenly get what all the hype is about. This is enough to turn any cynic into a believer.

Maybe it has to do with the performance of it all, how elaborate and ornate it can be—about feeling like royalty in the midst of a place surrounded by cornfields.

My date is nothing if not unafraid of letting go, of being unabashedly excited about something.

But there is a water dispenser, and some finger foods catered by Guy Fieri in a seriously decadent spread.

“Did you hear I got arrested for being part of an illicit capuchin monkey smuggling ring in Arizona?”

I laugh thinking of all the ridiculous rumors that spread about where Emme went after she first left. They’ve slowed down a bit, become less extreme over the past few weeks, but they’re still pretty pervasive.

I see now what Jordan meant about not knowing Quinn had the capacity to look so angry.

Her expression is coy, like she knows she has everyone in the room’s attention and she’s not going to let it go.

It’s the split second before a conductor drops their arms to signal the beginning of a song. When you wait with bated breath and you feel the energy in the room and you don’t have to wonder anymore because you just know.

I can see and hear everything, and it’s almost sensory overload. The shouts from my friends I can distinguish easily, mingling with the clapping and the cheering of people I don’t know.

There in the middle of all our classmates, with the spotlight on us and those gaudy, coveted crowns on our heads, I kiss her with everything I have.