Prom Queen of Disaster

by Joseph James Hunt

  “He can’t even make the basket,” Libby said.

  Quentin wriggled into the conversation. “Just be glad we’re not made to wear that stupid costume,” he said. “God knows my uncle had some whacked up shit planned.”

  At least that much was true; it would’ve been one of the guys made to fill out the costume, mainly because it was too roomy for any of us girls to fit in. Or an unsuspecting freshman would jump at the chance be in Paddy the Panda’s sweat locker.

  Before long, the gymnasium was filling out at either side. Half for the home team, the other for the Lakeside Lions. Already they were cheering. It’s where the competition began.

  “1-2-3-4 the Pandas are back, better than before,

  Unstoppable, unbeatable,

  The best team on the court!

  Go Pandas, go!”

  Encored by the beat of feet on the floor. Boom, boom, boom. We rolled our pom-pom hands, raising them high and clapping.

  “Our team is backed by pride,

  We’ve got Lions on our side,

  Stand up, shout; we won’t hide!

  Go Lakeside Lions!”

  I always paid a little more attention to the other team, and if Char caught us, we’d be visually daggered. We were in charge of keeping pep and team spirit, if they noticed us looking away, they’d look away. It was hard to stay so focused when there was so much going on, especially the knot of nerves, wondering if my mom or dad would attend. I knew neither would, but the knot stuck with me whenever we went out on the court.

  A voice pulled attention over the speaker. “If you’d all like to take your seats while we welcome both teams to the court!” Both cheer squads descended to line the sides. We shook our pom-poms as the teams came from the changing rooms. “In yellow, we have, all the way from Phoenix Lake High School, the Lakeside Lions, who only recently retired their mascot from the beloved namesake Phoenix. And in blue, we have home team heroes, from Marin County High School, the Mighty Marin Pandas!” The crowds became ecstatic, stomping their feet and clapping their hands. “Give it up for your teams!”

  The gymnasium was alive with brash voices and cat-calls for their favorite team. Pre-game was in full force as each cheer squad had a five-minute routine slot.

  We went ahead with our chants, twirls, jumps and handsprings, getting the crowd to clap with rhythmic stomps.

  “You lions may have pep,

  You lions may have pride,

  But when it comes to slaying,

  You lions run and hide!”

  The crowd roared as we repeated the chant, ready for the finale. Kaleb came out in full costume, dribbling the ball and headed to jump. He jumped and faked the first shot, and around he went again. We pumped our fists to amp the crowd. The second time around, he threw with one swift hook, the ball went in. We screamed in support and shock.

  “He did that?” Char laughed.

  “Someone’s taking lessons,” Ava said. “Might ask him to the dance.”

  “Still a mascot,” Char said.

  “Thought your goal was a guy on the team.”

  Paddy the Panda, Kaleb ran from the court. I didn’t realize until a few moments later when he ran back on the court with Dylan, high-fiving in the panda costume. “Like what I did there?” Dylan asked, tugging at my side.

  “Huh?”

  “You believe he did that,” he laughed.

  Char hooked her arms around us. “It was you?” she chuckled. “I knew he couldn’t be that good.”

  “Saved us embarrassment.”

  “Didn’t want to make an ass out of himself,” Dylan said. “I’m a great shot.”

  We hadn’t realized the other cheer squad perform their routine until half-way through when two girls were flipped. Ava’s fingers to her lips as she watched them perform, almost in prayer to ruin their routine.

  “Mighty Marin Pandas,

  We see you over there,

  Where’s your trophy at?

  Oh, we get it, winning’s pretty rare!”

  The chant was in poor taste; we’d won most of our games. We soft clapped them away. It was a great attempt, and even though we didn’t care, we were good at pretending.

  “That’s a crock of shit,” Char said.

  Libby blew a gum bubble. It popped across her nose. “Is that all they got?” she said, gathering the chewing gum with a finger. “If the basketball team doesn’t win, I know we did.”

  Dylan had gone back to his team. “Don’t let Dylan hear you say that,” I said. “It would kill him.” Nerves banged in my chest.

  “Please take your seats!” The fuzzy voice crackled through the speakers. “You have 5 minutes until the game begins!”

  We whirred in motion again, motivating the crowd, getting them to stand and chant with us. They stomped their feet and clapped their hands. Game time had buzzed, and the referee’s whistle blared through the atmosphere. The mascot rushed off with Ava closely following. I tried to grab her arm.

  “Ava?” I threw my hands up.

  “The bathroom,” she said, “why?”

  “Hurry then.” I gestured to the court, watching Dylan arch his body, leaping with the ball, throwing from the three-point arc. Three points, the scoreboard screeched, and the backboard flickered with the change.

  We pulled together in a line. “Go Dylan, go, go! Go Dylan!”

  With the first quarter almost over. 12 – 8 to us. I had to take a bathroom break. I walked through to the locker rooms. Kaleb pushed passed me, almost stumbling to his knees. I grabbed at the matted costume. He tore away and rushed back onto the court. I held myself up on the wall trying not to burst my bladder in the skin tight cheer outfit.

  Ava didn’t look too impressed once I was back on the court and the buzzer timed out for the first quarter.

  “So it’s okay for you?” Ava said.

  “What?”

  “To go.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t say that. Only asked where you were going.”

  Char called over to us from the whir. She held her hand up and gestured to the center court.

  The mascots were in the center, tugging on a long piece of rope. There was a playful pull, back and forth. The team from the other side had joined before we engaged them in the game.

  My upper body strength couldn’t fail me now. I grabbed rope after Libby, right at the end. A fun game? The red in Char’s face said otherwise. I’d been to summer camp were tug rope was less competitive. “And pull,” Char said. “Pull.” We jerked the rope hard before it became slack and the opposition fell.

  “No more brick shots,” I heard Dylan tell the others on the starting squad. The coach hovered around before pushing into their circle. “Coach Inez, any words?”

  “We’re winning right now. Like Dylan said, let’s try and get some more shots from the three-point line, and no more brick shots. Benny, you’re tall, use it, block like it.”

  The ref blew his whistle again. Already on the offense the Lakeside Lions were aggressive; pushing the ball to our side, making fouls the ref wouldn’t call; they were another five points up before we scored a point from the foul line after delivering a foul to Mack, our small forward, an aggressive guy.

  Mack was taken off the court and changed for sophomore, Denny. Brianna jumped around on the side of the court; the secret of them dating was under wraps, or at least it had been. We cheered alongside her.

  Neck and neck with points as the second quarter came to a close. It was halftime. The players went back to the locker rooms while we cheered. Scores were tied up at 22 – 22, I imagined Dylan’s pep talk to the players, the same he’d practice with me when we were alone. He needed this, the first game, the first win, it was his passion.

  “Sorry,” Ava said. “I know you’re looking out for the team, and I’m—” She threw her arms at her side and huffed. “PMSing right now.”

  I smiled and pulled her in my arms. “Shut up.”

  “And I’m taking on water like a whale.”

 
Char threw a pom-pom at us. “She’s taken,” she said.

  “Not a lesbian,” I said.

  “But if we were,” Ava said, grinning. “We’d be together.”

  Char raised an eyebrow. “Tough competition.”

  The music finished for the Lakeside Lions cheering squad. The crowd was tame, they stood and clapped, not too enthusiastically. “Now for the Mighty Marin Pandas!” the voice boomed.

  We took positions, almost like we’d rehearsed it in our sleep, our feet moved with swift automatic precision. One-by-one, giving everything for the half-time show. The routine was short, following the teams back on the court.

  Dylan jogged over to kiss my cheek. “Wish me luck,” he said.

  In the third quarter, the Lakeside Lions were up by four points. It wasn’t until the final quarter when we pulled it back, Benny scored a three-point shot. The red aggression heated on Dylan’s face pushed through to make the final shot, putting us one point ahead at 39 – 38.

  The buzzer rang. A sigh of defeat and deflation rumbled from the other side while the roaring excitement and celebration came from ours. The subs and the starting squad grabbed Dylan by the legs and hauled him up on their shoulders.

  We ran over with our pom-poms high. Our hearts pounded and our skin sweat with the electricity of winning.

  “So what do you have planned?” Ava asked Kaleb as he pulled the head off the mascot. I tried to pull her.

  “It’s homecoming. Right?” he said.

  “Well?”

  “I might see you there,” he said to her. “Ava, right?” he winked.

  Dylan drew me from them, pulling me into his chest. “Can’t wait for tonight,” he said. “I have a surprise.”

  “Surprise?”

  “The one we’re waiting for.” He kissed my cheek. “Love you, Zo.”

  “Love you.”

  Chapter Five

  I looked myself in the mirror. I’d squeezed into a black and red dress. It reached my knees, a requirement my parents enforced. I’d combed my blonde hair to one side and pinned it in place, bumped at the top. I had a flat stomach, one of the perks of cheerleading every day. Turning to my side, I placed my hands on my hips.

  “Thought you could wear this,” my mom said, walking in my bedroom with a small jewelry box. She opened it to reveal a thin gold necklace and a small deep red birthstone. “Got this when you were born, it’s a bloodstone.” She lowered it in my hand. Cold to the touch. “Apparently your birthstone is aquamarine now, a darn sight nicer to look at.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Can I?” Turning slightly, I pulled my hair over a shoulder.

  “Beautiful, sweetie,” she said.

  The dress was above the safety line as my mother called it, but the line was anything proving I was female; cleavage, knees, the inner thigh, skirts were incredibly difficult to talk my parents around.

  My dad called me down to meet Dylan. Mom helped with make-up, more on telling me to tone it down, when all I wanted to do was reach into my bag and grab the hot pink lip stick Char had given me.

  Watching from between his fingers, my dad stood beside Dylan. I’d seen Dylan in a suit before, but never one so fitting. It was off-black, somewhat gray with red touches. We matched completely.

  “You’ll make sure she’s home by 10,” Dad said.

  “Mike.” Mom patted his arm. “Make sure you have fun. No later than half-past 10.”

  “I’ll have her home on the dot,” Dylan finally spoke. His eyes locked with mine. I wanted to run away with him, to lose myself with him.

  Dad held his arms open. The hope for the little girl inside me to hug him twinkled in his eye. “You look beautiful,” he said. He pulled me in and kissed my forehead. “Have fun.”

  He let go as Mom pulled me into a hug. She kissed my cheek and rubbed it with a thumb. “We need to get used to you looking so adult now.”

  “I’m almost an adult,” I said.

  Dylan stood awkwardly. I had the overly concerned conservative family, and he had parents who lived on opposite coasts.

  “Wonder how you’ll be when she’s ready for prom,” Dylan chuckled.

  “Still need to come to terms with me being a senior,” I said, leaving their sides. “Where’s Maddie?”

  “Out at a friend’s,” Mom said, nudging at my dad. “Someone needs to pick her up.”

  Dylan moved a hand to reveal a plastic box. There was a red rose corsage inside.

  “Thank you.” I kissed him as he placed the corsage on my wrist.

  “If you don’t mind, Mr. and Mrs. Jensen, I think we need to head off,” he said.

  “Take care of her,” they both said.

  Dylan kissed me again as soon as we were outside. “I don’t want to let you go,” he said.

  “You won,” I said. The phone in my black clutch buzzed.

  “I won more than the game.”

  I grabbed my phone as we stepped around the car.

  “Are we picking Char up?” Dylan asked pre-emptively.

  I looked at the stream of messages on my phone. “Looks like she’s going with Benny,” I said, piecing together her texts.

  Dylan had his dad’s white convertible BMW, with the top was down. He took the driver’s seat and flashed a huge grin at me. “Never thought he’d say yes,” he grinned. “But I won the game.”

  I put my phone away and turned to look him in the eye, inches from each other. “So you said you had a surprise for me,” I said. “Can you tell me now?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.” The engine roared as he turned the ignition. “But soon.”

  Winning the game meant everyone had bought homecoming tickets, with or without dates. The parking lot at school was almost full, more than they were during the day. Music blasted through the doors leading to the entrance.

  “When prom comes around.” Dylan smiled to himself. “We’ll be King and Queen.”

  “You’ll be King, but I know Char is gunning for Queen.”

  He bit his bottom lip. “You’ll always be my Queen.”

  We parked the car. He reached around my shoulder and guided my head in for a kiss, driven by passion. We kissed for a lifetime, right before some asshat pounded on the hood of the car.

  Dylan jumped to see a sophomore standing like a rabbit in headlights. He stuttered an apology, but there was no damage. He flipped him off and sat back down.

  “We should go in,” I said, giving him a final kiss.

  He looked at me, expecting something more, I could see the want to say something else in his open gaze. He climbed out of his side and rushed over to my door.

  I grabbed his hand and collected the clutch bag under my arm. “A real man,” I said, my heart skipping a beat as Disney moments flashed before my eyes.

  We walked through the dimly lit school halls, following the signs and the people as they walked to the gymnasium. The sound of music filtered through; it was pop music my mom had grown up with and would play whenever she was cleaning. Teachers and chaperones ushered us along, “no loitering in the halls,” they said as we walked, hand-in-hand to the gymnasium.

  An arch of balloons welcomed us into the strobe-lit room. The gym was full, two tiers of chairs from the back had been taken out to make room, and a stage had been created for a band.

  Char and Benny made a beeline for us as we walked in.

  “Zo!” Char pulled me aside.

  “That’s a thing?” I whispered in her ear.

  “He asked me,” she said. I glanced back at Dylan beside Benny, smiling together. “Better than him going with some sophomore.”

  Girl talk must’ve made them nervous, from the way they fidgeted with their hands like we were discussing them in detail.

  Char cupped a hand to my ear. “I grabbed his crotch in the car,” she said. “I know it’s not prom, and I’m not a virgin, but Benny’s getting lucky.”

  My throat now dry as I tried to swallow. “We’re waiting.”

  I felt Dylan’s warm ha
nd scoop around my side. “Yeah,” he said and kissed my cheek. “It’s nicer that way.”

  “No distractions,” I said.

  Char looked neither happy nor disgusted. Her eyebrows knitted together in two arches with concern. “I’m happy for you, but if it’s right, it’s right.” Benny approached Char’s side as she placed one of her manicured hands on his chest and clawed at him playfully.

  It wasn’t right, not really. I’d always been told to wait for marriage, at least until the age of 13 when I stopped going to church to think for myself. Prom night was right for me. I’d thought about ignoring the magic of prom, I would even tingle sometimes when I saw him, it could make me forget everything I’d promised myself.

  “Who said I want to now anyway,” Dylan said, squeezing at my side and pressing his lips to my cheek.

  “You’re a boy,” Char said, “you think with your dick.”

  Benny and Dylan laughed. I knew that was true; I heard it sometimes when Dylan spoke, and I’d change the topic to something cooling, cheer practice, his next basketball game, playoffs, anything but touching or kissing, physical contact at all whenever he was like that.

  I smirked to myself. We’d had to get Oreo neutered so he couldn’t get any of the neighborhood cats pregnant. I pushed my hand into his as I moved my thoughts from the stupid cat to Dylan He nudged me over to the punch bowl.

  The student body who’d organized the homecoming dance were standing watch over the punch bowl; making sure nobody took too much or added something a little extra to get the party going. Mila, Heather, and Kirsten, each in a different color of pink, their hair parted off center and pushed to the side like rejects from a girl group losing their place on AMERICAN IDOL.

  “Take a drink and move along,” Mila said, unfolding her arms to gesture at the punch. “It is a cocktail of pineapple, orange, apple, lemon, lime, everything you don’t want in a drink.”

  Dylan laughed. “Loosen up,” he said. “We won! Celebrate.”

  “Your win isn’t our win,” Mila said.

  Kirsten grabbed a red cup and poured from the ladle. “Our win is having a successful homecoming, without you starting a fight, getting drunk, or destroying the gym,” she said, pouring the second cup.