Do Over Read Online Free Page B

photo booth,” Zoe said.
    Our wonderfully tight-fisted treasurer, Carla, nodded again. “One that charges.”
    “We have to have a glamorous theme,” Lauren said.
    My excitement grew with each suggestion. This enthusiasm and these spectacular plans were everything I’d dreamed of coming to life. I opened the cover of my Prom Idea book, torn between leading with chandeliers and chocolate fountains, or limousine rides.
    Lauren wrote ‘ theme ’ on the dry erase board.
    Ms. Herrington, our faculty advisor, slipped in through the exterior door, letting in some afternoon air. She hesitated a moment, then walked up and whispered something to Lauren.
    Lauren stiffened and spun away from the board. The dry erase marker trailed along after her, leaving a scraggly line to mar the white space awaiting our ideas.
    Ms. Herrington’s Boho Maxi dress swung around her legs. I had to love the saffron print with her skin tone. My admiration chilled when she tapped one hand of nails against the other. They made a clicking sound.
    Not good. Ms. Herrington always clicked her nails before delivering bad news. Click, click, click . We’re having a pop quiz. Click, click, click . You all failed the test.
    “Your tremendous fundraising efforts have received praise and some attention,” Ms. Herrington said.
    Lauren crossed her arms over her chest and wouldn’t meet my gaze. I swung back to Ms. Herrington but could only see the back of her brown, wavy hair as she addressed the volunteers.
    Ms. Herrington sucked in a breath and clicked her nails again. “I know you planned free prom tickets and a free dinner.”
    “Five courses,” Carla said.
    “Hors de oeuvres and appetizers are the same thing, so really only four.” Zoe shook her platinum head.
    For a cheerleader, she ran to the negative.
    Carla straightened. “Five.”
    Click, click, click. “Faculty thought the funds could best be used for something else.”
    Carla frowned and tightened her grip on the budget spreadsheet. “How do they even know how much money we have?”
    “Yeah. Who was stupid enough to let them know we scored 50k?” Zoe asked.
    I bit my lip. Could be me. I’d spread the word far and wide, and then farther and wider. If the news of our fundraising was a politician, and that politician cheated while texting and driving, then casting a ballot for the other party–well, his press coverage would come in second compared to what I’d been drumming up.
    “School fundraising money should be used for the school.” Ms. Herrington’s kind eyes paused on each girl, meeting the gaze of everyone but me. She braced her palms flat on the conference table, and her nails made one final click. “Prom money was used to purchase the class gift, your senior class gift.”
    I tightened my grip on the lectern until the wood cut into my sweaty palms. “What did they buy?” The words came out garbled against my dry throat.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Four
     
    “A Jumbotron for the end zone of the football field.”
    Amy flinched. Carla crumpled a page in her fist.
    I froze then spewed my outrage. “ Those Neanderthals . Our committee worked for months so all the seniors would have a beautiful prom. And those barbarians usurped our money to set up a giant screen in the end zone? To show off their giant-sized egos?”
    Ms. Herrington held a palm up to stifle me. “Now, now. They left money to hold prom. Simply scale back.”
    “How much?” Carla asked, demand in her tone and her dark eyes. “Out of fifty thousand?”
    Ms. Herrington lowered her own gaze for a moment then peeked at the exit. “About a thousand.”
    Amy paled and dropped her gaze. Carla’s pencil thumped to the table. Angry murmurs filled the air. Lauren snapped the dry erase marker back into its holder and folded her arms across her chest. “Prom is ruined. Ruined.” Her voice hit a note high enough to reach Pluto.
    The gavel slipped and it hit the floor with a dull thud. I swallowed again and pushed the