Chapter 178: Some Things Are Better off Left In Our Heads [Music: Everything By Lifehouse] Was Tom Pierce asking me to dance? What in my teen fantasy shit is this? "Let’s say I’m making your dreams come through," Tom said, giving me that famous dashing smile of his, the one that always made me trip whenever I saw it from a mile away. I was really a clumsy idiot, weren’t I? "H-How cocky..." The words left me before I could stop them. Tom laughed softly. "After all, you are obsessed with me." I blushed. "I told you it was a silly joke." "But if you were..." He showed me his palm. "I think a dance is a good way to start, don’t you think?" I eyed his stretched-out hand, feeling a hefty sensation consuming me. I should be excited about dancing with my crush and having that checked off my long list of imaginary things I wrote down in my diary. I smiled softly. "That would be lovely." He narrowed his eyes. "I’m sensing a... but?" "My plans for tonight were—" "So there were plans?" he teased. "Go on, tell me. I’m curious." I adjusted my glasses. "To sit, drink, and be mentally back in prom again." That was exactly how it went down. I couldn’t secure a date and kept picturing myself in Tom’s arms. But sometimes, some things are better off left in our heads. He was handsome, practically the kind you would say yes to and dive into his arms, and I knew it wouldn’t end with that dance. He’d give me his number, and we would rekindle a flame that was mostly on my side. It was wonderful to think of, but for some twisted reason, it didn’t feel right. "Tom! Get over here!" His guys called for him. "Is that Peter? How many pounds did he come in?" "A decent amount." I giggled. Tom’s expression softened. "I was really looking forward to that dance, maybe spare a moment for me. When I ask in an hour, how about a yes? For old time’s sake." I raised my glass in reply. As I watched him leave, my smile slowly faded. I walked to the nearby seat, eyeing the dance floor filled with couples and those rekindling their old flame. The song in the background was one of my favorites from prom days, and it really set the mood of that dreamy moment when you thought prom was your entire life. But here I was sipping punch, with my legs crossed. This was the reason I needed a plus one, because I didn’t wanna recall how lonely I was every prom. Catherine Lane, the farm girl, sits alone with no one to dance with. Candice Turner took a field trip with that headline and made sure everyone knew I was discarded. I discerned Tom’s eyes on me. He was probably waiting for that one hour. Fine. I need to live, even just a little, and transform into that lovesick girl who had no worries except passing her grades. I set my drink on the table, attempting to rise, but my phone vibrated in my purse, so I pulled it out, gasping when I saw a text. Honey: You look beautiful tonight. My breath hitched and my eyes zoomed around in speed, but when I wasn’t getting enough visual, I pushed to stand, hoping to catch a sight of him, but there was none. I sat back down as disappointment clawed at me. Maybe he sent this text a long time ago? I checked the time and date. No... he sent this now. Does it mean he’s really here? My phone vibrated again, and I swiped open the text quickly, feeling my insides dance. Honey: Are you that desperate to see me? I scoffed as I typed a reply. Me: You should be in Midnight. Honey: I never left. A smile slowly curled on my lips. He never left. Those words suddenly erase the haze over me, the one where I’m stuck in the past and future. Me: I never said you should stay. Honey: You thought about it. Me: What are you now, a mind reader? Honey: No, but I can tell you wanna dance with a third party. Me: Tom? He’s harmless. My phone vibrated, but this time it wasn’t from a text. I picked up the call without hesitation, and his voice made me drown in longing even though it had only been a few hours. "Tom..." he uttered in an icy tone. "Last name." "How odd of you to ask. What are you gonna do with that?" "Nothing serious." "Are you jealous, Mr. King?" "Just trying to know the name of the man who asked my wife to dance." He’s jealous, alright, there’s no doubt in that. "How about you come out for a dance, honey. Better than talking about a third party." I heard his heavy breath before he spoke more deeply than usual, and I felt it straight to my core. "Honey..." He murmured. "Seems like I have done something right to be called that name." I swallowed a lump in my throat, trying to regulate myself. "You stayed..." I said softly, not hiding the fact that it meant something. There was a long pause in the line, and I wondered if he had kept me on hold. "Ares?" "Look to your right." I did without a moment to waste. The lights were dimmed because of the slow music, so I rose to my feet and walked to a corner. My eyes searched, and when I got no progress, my chest tightened. However, I caught sight of him, and I cast a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Everything else in sight withered, and the hall was vacant, leaving just us behind and the music in the background. I don’t know how long we just stood there, just gaping, but I think long enough for me to find my voice. It came off soft and faint as the pressure of numerous emotions made it difficult to maintain clarity. "Why did you stay?"