The Mate Agreement
I try to wrench away, but he’s holding on too tight.
“Acadia Academy’s Senior year Prom Queen!” The announcer booms over the speakers.
The music returns louder. I stagger back, wobbling in my too-high heels; shoes that don’t fit. I’m trying to find my voice, to tell them how wrong this is, but my lips are sealed shut. The bouquet falls from my hand, the flowers withering to dust the second they hit the floor. The lights begin to flash; red, blue, yellow, green, pink, purple, red, blue, yellow, green, pink…