Do Over Read Online Free Page A

and throw himself into the party.”
    “If that’s what you want in a date, he’s your guy.” The wall clock ticked behind me, an audible sound, but no louder than the buzz of the strip bulbs in the ceiling. I gestured to the clock. “The soccer game’s not over. He’ll be at least another half hour.”
    Grabbing a packet of paper hearts, I headed to the table. The office was going to look especially beautiful for today’s meeting. Happy face.
    Lauren moved to Dad’s desk and snagged my Prom Ideas notebook.
    “Check out page four. The silk petals I found online can line the satin runner at the entrance.”
    “You know I’m going to trip if we use a floor runner.” Lauren frowned and toyed with the edge. “Then my dress will fly up, and I’ll be rolling down the satin runner like Cleopatra before Caesar.”
    I snickered. “Probably. We’ll have the exterior photographer standing by to get a good shot.”
    Lauren imitated throwing the book at my head and the door opened, letting our excited, all-girl committee spill in.
     I knew my grin must’ve outshone the glitter on the banner when I moved behind the lectern to kick off the meeting. “Okay, volunteers,” I called out. “I now call to order Sparkle, subset number 12 of the Trallwyn booster clubs.” I tapped my rhinestone-covered gavel against the lectern. “First order of business.”
    Zoe coughed and interrupted me. “What are those?” She nodded her platinum head toward the massage tables.
    “Not our business,” I said and moved on. I pointed to Lauren. Lauren hit some keys on her laptop and projected an image on the wall over the massage tables. She clicked to refresh our school’s news website. “Ballots have been calculated and we have our King and Queen nominees.”
    The volunteers squealed and shifted forward in excitement. “ Show us.”
    I kept them in suspense, though there weren’t really any shockers on the list. “For King, the nominees are: John Aimsley, Spencer Jones, Brendan Edwards, and Nicholas Tresmont. For Queen: Carla Fruge.”
    The volunteers whooped and several gave our dark-haired treasurer Carla a high-five. A smile twitched at my lips. I read the next two in quick succession. “Rachel Lynds, Zoe Rancourt.”
    Zoe smiled a pursed grin and bobbled her head at the room.
    I paused then said, “And Lauren Overton.”
    Lauren waved her hands in the air, squealed, and got up to hug everyone.
    I crossed my fingers, silently hoping Lauren or Carla would win. “The official announcements will be made tomorrow at lunch. Final voting ends two days before prom.”
    Everyone started texting the news. Carla waved a spreadsheet at me, and I nodded. She took two pencils and drum-rolled them against the conference room table. “This is the one we’ve been waiting for. You set a new school record earning the $50,000.” She pointed at me and did another drum roll.
    I held out my hands and said the beloved words, “How do you want to spend it?”
    The question yanked most heads away from their messaging and encouraged more whoops.
    Lauren popped into position, posing with a marker in hand, ready to jot down the ideas on the dry erase board. Bright-eyed volunteers crowding the conference table and shouted their thoughts. “Twinkle lights.”
    “We can borrow Christmas lights from people.” Carla made a note on her budget spreadsheet.
    “A ballroom on the lake.”
    “But not Sarton,” Carla said.
    They nodded as a group. Sarton’s event coordinator had overcharged us during a fundraiser. Although the coordinator refunded the money after being called on the error, we had voted never to use that venue again. Never forgive was one of our mottos.
    “A balloon arch,” a flush-faced Amy whispered. She pushed her tortoise shell glasses higher on her nose.
    I nodded in encouragement, wishing she’d speak up more often. Amy had good ideas, but was often too shy to express them.
    “We can rent a helium tank,” Carla suggested.
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