Home School Prom (The Love Square)

(Oliver)
I don't go to public or private school, but I'm still looking forward to prom. See, there's this thing I go to. It's every Tuesday from nine to three, and there are four periods plus lunch. Now that that's out of the way... well, you don't actually have to ask anyone to prom. There'll be line dancing and the like. But there's this girl...
Her name is Isobel. She's a seventeen year old junior and we both do a swing dance class. (There are some pretty interesting classes we can take.) This is only her second year going to the "school," and my sixth. She always wears her almond-color hair in a ponytail, has glasses and this air of casualty about her. I'm going to ask her soon, I know it. There's only a few weeks until prom so I have to ask her soon...
"Hey Oliver! It's time for lunch!" Zack calls, startling me.
"I'm coming," I reply. Zack and I were in P.E. together in sixth grade, and have been inseparable ever since.
"It doesn't look like it," he grins. I got up and walked to him.
"Does it look like it now?" I inquire. "Let's go." We stroll to the tables and take our pick.
"So, are you planning on going to prom this year?" Zack queries.
"Yep. You?"
"Well, no."
"No?" Zack had gone since he had been in high school, and he was eleventh grade.
"It's just been so boring. You've been there, so there's that... but it's still boring. I hope you don't mind," he finishes.
"I was actually planning on asking someone to go with me this year," I murmur.
"Who?" Zack replies in an equally soft tone.
"Isobel. She's in swing with me..."
"Yeah. I know her. We're in chemistry together. So when will you ask?"
"As soon as I can get her alone," I answer decisively.

(Isobel)
Swing dance, my fourth period class, ends early. I head to the place I always go to when swing ends early--the far side of the balcony. People are rarely there and never when I go after class, period. I survey the beautiful countryside and wonder why... I hear footsteps, distracting me from my thoughts. Oliver, a tall, tanned boy with jet black hair who was in swing with me, appears at my side.
"Hi," I greet.
"Hey Isobel," he responds. "It's a lovely view, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I don't know why people are so busy with their phones and T.V.'s when they could be out here." I say, which is exactly what I had been thinking.
"True," he agrees.
"So, why are you here?" I ask.
"Well..." he hesitates. "Will you go to prom with me?" I'm frozen. I don't mind dancing with people when I'm in swing, but actually going to prom with somebody is a different matter. I do like Oliver, but not like that! I mean, it couldn't hurt, could it? It was only a few hours. I might not dance with him the whole time. Finally, I respond.
"Let me think. I promise I'll get back to you next week."
"I understand," he says. I could see the disappointment in his bright, blue eyes. His eyes are so blue... I never noticed just how bright they were. He looks so disappointed, my mind whispers. I push those thoughts away, say goodbye and head to the car.