Just her friends in fancy outfits piling into Benjy’s car, screaming Lil Yachty in a room with a chandelier, and collapsing into a Waffle House booth at one in the morning.īut thirty minutes before the prom court was announced, she saw her: Shara, rosy lips and a waterfall of almond-pink tulle, brushing past refreshments on her way to the door. Not the perfect prom-no dates, no corsages-but her perfect prom. It took weeks to thrift the perfect dress (black chiffon and lace, like a sexy vampire assassin), and it was supposed to be a perfect prom. She wanted to enjoy her prom night after an entire year chasing early admission deadlines and her spot at the top of the class of ’22. Because she’s the only one smart enough to see it. Shara Wheeler is doing what she does: a doe-eyed performance of blank innocence that makes everyone think she must be so deep and complex and enchanting when really, she’s the most boring bore in this entire unbearably boring town.Ĭhloe is going to prove it. Thirty-three minutes until the end of the late service at Willowgrove Christian Church, where the Wheelers are spending their morning pretending to be nice, normal folks whose nice, normal daughter didn’t stage a disappearing act at prom twelve hours ago.
But right now, squared up to the back door of the Wheeler house, she’s actually physically ready to do it. Usually when she has a thought like that, it means she’s spiritually on the brink.
Chloe Green is going to put her fist through a window.
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