Prom Queen of Disaster

by Joseph James Hunt

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The whirlwind of Christmas was swift and overwhelming. Dylan was back the day before New Year’s Eve. I drove all the way to his house in my new car; I hadn’t driven much, but it was smooth handling; heading everywhere without any real direction, just to drive.

  Dylan welcomed me at the front door with a kiss and a hug. “Suits you,” he said, adjusting the thermal sweater to keep warm.

  “Thanks.” I pulled out of his arms. “How was skiing?”

  “Cold.” He laughed. “Missed you.”

  Dylan’s dad stood at the bottom of the staircase behind Dylan. He waved. “Nice car, Zo,” he said.

  “Thanks, Mr. McAlister,” I said, waving back. I barely saw Dylan’s dad; I knew he was extremely busy, if it wasn’t business, it was women. “Glad you didn’t hurt yourself.”

  Dylan chewed on his tongue before he spoke. “One of his girlfriends is in there,” he sighed. “Maybe we can go out for food?”

  I smiled. “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s grab lunch, then back to my house for a movie.”

  He crinkled his nose as he smiled. “I missed that.”

  “Are you getting changed?”

  “I’ve got about fifty layers on.” He chuckled. “I’ll be 5 minutes.”

  I waited in the car with my Britney Spears CD on full volume, singing along with all I had. Dylan knocked on the window. I sat abnormally upright, turning the volume down. He climbed into the passenger side.

  “What?” I said, without any shame. “It’s Britney.”

  “I’ll buy you some new CDs.” He skipped a few songs. “What’s the plan?”

  “In-N-Out?” I let out a deep moan in hunger, tightening my grasp of the steering wheel. “I’m so hungry.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I headed straight over.”

  He raised his eyebrows at me, skipping more songs. “Carb load before next semester starts up.”

  We grabbed In-N-Out in our take-out bags. It ruined the leathery new car smell, but I wasn’t unwinding the windows and risking frost bite. Once I was back home, I made sure to hang the air freshener on the rear-view mirror.

  Dylan made his way to my room while I grabbed plates and forks. I found him in my room, he was looking at rough sketches on the canvas. If it was anyone else, I would’ve thrown them out of the way, instead, I nervously moved over and looked at it with him.

  “Just rough scribbles,” I said. “So—”

  “Looks good.”

  “You wanna choose the movie”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you want.” He sat back on my bed, moving Oreo as he hissed.

  I had great taste in films, mainly romantic comedies starring Katherine Heigl.

  “27 Dresses,” I said, finalizing my choice.

  We’d watched it several times before, and every single time I did, I wanted a montage scene just like hers, because trying on several outfits never took 60 seconds.

  We sat and watched, eating our burgers and fries. We talked about his trip and cuddled in bed. I sketched for a little while as he slept on my shoulder with an arm around my waist. It was getting darker outside.

  Char’s number flashed on my screen.

  “Zo,” she said. “When are you coming over tomorrow?”

  “We’re coming around eight,” I whispered, careful not to wake Dylan. “But if you want, we can come over sooner.”

  “You’re coming over with Dylan?” she asked. “It starts at eight. Just making sure. Oh, and bring alcohol, if not, I’m sure Dylan can.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “Why are you whispering?” she asked.

  “He’s asleep.”

  She laughed. “Is Kaleb coming with you?”

  “He’s got his bike,” I said, referencing to the large motorcycle in the garage. He hadn’t been able to ride it since the beating, but that was over six weeks ago now.

  “Good,” she said. “Not really planned much.”

  “I’m still struggling for what to wear.”

  “Those outfits you tried on a few weeks back looked great,” she said. “Oh, if in doubt, go for something black. I’d heard my mom say that.”

  Whenever I had an outfit in color, I’d always find myself wanting it in black. Not because I was a secret goth, listening to heavy metal and smudging my eyeliner, but because outfits looked better in black.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked.

  “I have several outfits,” she said. “I’ll send pictures. Talk later, got a huge list of people to call.”

  “Laters.”

  New Year’s Eve was a special occasion, it meant the first kiss of the new year. Dylan wore a white shirt with small black diamond shapes, and a pair of slim-fit black jeans. He was perfect beside me in my off-the-shoulder black wrap dress, I’d bought it with the girls a few weeks back, we were all in agreement.

  “Are you driving?” Dylan asked, spraying his hair in place.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I’ll need to pack flats. Can’t drive in heels.”

  We were ready for 7 PM. “Wanna grab dinner first? Drive-thru?”

  We knew we shouldn’t, with practice in the coming weeks, we should’ve opted for salads or whatever my mom was making.

  “You’re not driving,” my dad said, immediately. “What if you forget the car, or you park on the road, who’s to say it won’t get stolen. I’ll drive.”

  With that, the idea of fast food went out the window. Char’s mom was making food, to the extent of taking ham from the packet and throwing it inside some slices of bread.

  Before we could leave for the party, my dad made me promise to be responsible, by that, he was telling me not to drink. I’d done my hair, applied a life-changing amount of make-up and wore clothes that made me feel hot, so I told him I’d be responsible, that I preferred soda anyway.

  He gave me a kiss on the cheek, hesitating as if to say something else. “Have a good night, and call me if you need anything.”

  Dylan took me by my waist, keeping me upright on the paved driveway. Kaleb’s bike was already there, I couldn’t imagine Ava on the back of the bike, at least not with her hair in place.

  Char squealed and clapped her hands as I walked through the front door. “Bitch! I knew you’d work that dress,” she said, taking a step back. “You wanna drink?”

  I blushed and smiled; Char’s compliments were rare. “Whatever you’re having,” I said.

  “Did Benny bring the gin from m” Dylan asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, they’re in the kitchen.”

  Char’s mom had the most fabulous friends. I wasn’t sure what they did, given Char’s mom was a realtor and sold houses to the rich and famous. Their hair was blown out, with their make-up painted on their faces with the highest cheek contours; I’d watched a Kardashian video once, pointing out all the target zones to hit. I’d even tried, safe to say my face was fifteen shades darker, almost dirty.

  Char pulled me over to her mom, sat around a make-shift bar. “Zoey!” She held her arms out to hug me. “Oh that dress.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my face flushed.

  “I’ve not seen you in forever,” she said. “You smell divine. Is that Marc Jacobs?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “How’d you know?” It was a gift, and I doused myself in the stuff every single day.

  “Oh, if there’s one thing I know, it’s my designer perfumes,” she said, giving me a final hug to inhale the perfume. She let go and turned to Char. “Where’s the music, hon?”

  Char’s mom went all out. She prepared the heated hot tub out on the back deck. I could see there was a selection of bikinis, in case you hadn’t brought yours; nobody had informed me this would be happening. It was freezing out.

  The house was getting busier, loud music boomed and color changing lights brought the room to life. I walked around with my solo cup in one hand and my phone in the other.

  “Cuties,” Ava said, taking a picture of Dylan and I as we stood beside a white w
all in the house. I clung to his side and shoulder, kicking my foot up and kissing him on the cheek. “Made together.” She passed the phone back to me.

  The pictures were Instagram worthy, given a nice black and white filter. Ava pulled me aside. “What’s up?” I asked her, dipping my head to hear over the music.

  “Kaleb’s been off with me,” she said. “Is he okay?”

  No. “Christmas is for families,” I said. “And Kaleb’s abandoned him.”

  Ava threw a hand to her forehead. “Shit. I knew that. I feel like a bitch now, we argued about him being moody.”

  “Where’s he now?”

  She shrugged. “He can’t ride his bike, he’s been drinking, so he’s somewhere.”

  As much as it wasn’t my problem, I wanted to see if he was okay.

  “He’s not a baby, he’s a grown-ass man,” Ava laughed.

  I let it slide and walked out onto the patio. Some of the girls and guys were already in the hot tub. It was a giant orgy of bodies, everyone kissing, and I hadn’t yet lost my virginity, let alone join the swarm as they kick started their experimental stage. Even though it was freezing, they were embracing the hot tub.

  I took hold of Dylan’s hand out of nowhere and led him to the bottom of the garden in search of Kaleb. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Ava and Kaleb have fallen out, and Kaleb isn’t in a good state,” I said.

  “What!” Kaleb shouted. “You can’t go around telling people that.”

  He was behind us.

  “Kaleb!” I said, watching as he ran inside.

  “Is he okay?” Dylan asked. “I thought things were getting better?”

  “I came for a good time.” I rolled my eyes. “The last thing I need is someone else’s drama.”

  Dylan hushed me, dragging me into an unwilling hug, but it was comforting when he did. I wanted to pull away, part of me wanted to be annoyed with Kaleb and Ava, but I couldn’t, I was too self-involved.

  I drank more.

  “Where’s Char?” Her mom tugged on my arm. “She’s not the same.”

  “I can find her if you want,” I said.

  “Aw you’re a sweetie,” she said, topping up her wine glass. “Want some?”

  I shook my head. I drew the line at wine, for at least another fifteen years.

  On my search for Char, I bumped into Kaleb. He was taking shots, one after another. Like someone who definitely knew his way around a bar. I didn’t say a word. He offered me one as an olive branch. I accepted and regretted it, gritting my teeth as the burn touched my tongue. Alcohol shots were not for me.

  On my way to let the burn of alcohol come back up my throat, I found Char in the bathroom upstairs, her head over the bowl.

  “Char?”

  She pulled her head out of the bowl and glanced up at me. There were tears in her eyes. “Zo,” she grumbled.

  “You okay?” I knelt beside her and tucked the stray hair behind her ears. “What did you have to drink?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “What?”

  “I haven’t even had a drink.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I—I—I—” she stammered before throwing up.

  “Food poisoning?” I asked.

  I handed her a cloth to wipe her mouth with. She looked at me with her doe-eyes, they were raw. “I—I—I,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh my god!” I wanted to slap myself into reality. “You’re what?”

  “Pregnant,” she said. “I took a test, over Christmas.”

  I rubbed her back and stroked her hair into place. “You sure?”

  She blubbered, sucking a deep breath through her nose. “I took several, and—and—and I don’t know what to do.” I pulled her in my arms. “What do I do?” she cried.

  “It’s all right,” I said, hushing her. It hit me, the reason why she’d been quiet, but it made me thankful to save myself. The promise ring on my finger reminded me of that. “How’s Benny taken it?” He was in high spirits downstairs, drinking with Dylan, probably celebrating.

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “Tell him,” I said. “I’ll get you water.”

  As I stood to get her water in the plastic cup beside the sink. I heard her sob, heavy in her arms. “It’s not Benny’s,” she said, crying harder this time.

  I passed her the water. “Who?”

  She sipped the water. “I can’t.”

  “Who? Enzo? Bellamy?” I asked, reeling through the guys she’d boasted to have slept with. “Kaleb?” I asked, going for a trifecta.

  She shook her head, bawling harder. “You’ll hate me.”

  I knelt beside her again. “Char.” I tipped her chin up to see her eyes. “Who?”

  She shook her head, like a baby, pushing out her bottom lip. “Promise you won’t hate me,” she said.

  I couldn’t. My stomach bubbled with nerves and a certain alcohol induced adrenaline jittered through me. I took a deep breath. “Char? Answer my fucking question!” I screamed at her.

  “It was Dylan,” she said. “I had sex with Dylan. Okay!”

  Shaking, I wanted to wrap my fingers around her throat. Everything was numb as I stood on my unstable legs. I clung to the door frame with tears in my eyes. The air in my lungs was trapped; I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. So I ran.

  It was sobering. I threw my heels and walked into the living room. Char’s mom looked at me, expecting a response. Dylan stumbled in and went to give me a hug. I forced me entire body into a push.

  “Don’t touch me!” I slammed my hands on his chest. “You dare, give me the wrong answer. I swear to God, I’ll cut your balls off.”

  He stood straight and looked at me. “Zo, you’re acting weird.”

  “No, no, no you don’t get to say that.”

  “What? What’s going on?”

  “Explain!” I seethed through my teeth. “Why?”

  “You’re not making any sense,” he said.

  The music was cut and suddenly even breathing was deafening. “Tell me. Tell me why you had sex with her!” I said.

  “Zo, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I spat a laugh, reeling it back with a deep breath. “You know who, that walking 7-Eleven,” I shouted. “Well, she’s pregnant.”

  Their whispers traveled fast around the room. Everyone turned to see Char in the doorway. “It was—Zo—I’m sorry,” she said, clutching her stomach, like I needed a reminder she was pregnant. I’d already announced it to the neighborhood.

  “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to that baby for royally screwing its life up,” I said. “You deserve each other.”

  Through the crowd from the kitchen, I watched Benny amble through the silence, laughing to himself and high up to his eyeballs. “What’s happened?” he asked, looking at Char ugly cry.

  “Your girlfriend’s been cheating,” I said, cutting to the chase. “If you wanna ask who, ask Dylan.”

  “What?”

  “It’s not like that,” Char said. “I love you.”

  Dylan turned to Benny. His fist collided with his jaw. He turned again and I threw the palm of my hand against his face, the sting was burning, but worth it.

  “And for what it’s worth,” I said, pulling the promise ring off. “You can’t keep a promise to save your fucking life.” I threw it at his feet.

  He steadied himself and took the abuse. He didn’t say a word, only exhaled deeply. I tore his shirt open, scratching his skin with my nails. I snapped the chain from around his neck. It didn’t make me feel better, but wouldn’t justify what he’d done.

  I moved away from him and grabbed my heels from where I’d thrown them. Defeat settled on my chest. Char watched me, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Zo?” Kaleb reached for my hand.

  “Go—away—please,” I said.

  He grabbed my hand anyway. “No. You’re not okay,” he said, gently pulling me to look at him. “I
’ll call your dad.”

  I snatched myself from his hand. “No!” I shouted. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  Char’s mom gossiped with her friends before one of them handed me a bottle of wine. “You could use this,” she said.

  I thought it was a hint to throw at Dylan. I eyed the contents down the neck of the bottle. I swigged at it as the music played again minutes later. Char and Dylan went with her mom upstairs. It was too late for the condom talk.

  Benny sat on a couch, holding the tears back. I took a seat beside him.

  He breathed back a couple steady breaths before speaking. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve known. It was too good.”

  Too good. I knew the feeling. Every day was a dream, every touch was electric. I knew how special Dylan made me feel, and now every memory with him was washed black and red with rage. “He deserves everything that’s coming,” I said, taking another drink before passing it over.

  “I don’t drink wine,” he said.

  “Me either,” I said. “But I think it’s only right.”

  “To celebrate not having unprotected sex.”

  “If only it was someone else.” I said in defeat.

  I wanted someone to explain it in detail. Tell me it was a lie; this had to be a prank, there had to be cameras. But there was no “gotcha!”. I waited until midnight. The countdown. “Happy New Year,” I heard them scream. Still nothing. I didn’t see either of them again. They vanished off together, talking about the future I guessed.

  My future was now shot to pieces.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I curled up in bed to read through Romeo and Juliet, rolling my eyes at the entire premise; they were both stupid, willing to die for each other after only a few days of love. At least Romeo was monogamous during the time they were together.

  “You suck,” I grumbled in an outburst. Oreo laid beside me, nudging at me with his head to be petted. “At least you won’t cheat.”

  The first day of spring semester was set to start and sure to be exciting. I packed up my cheer outfit, ready to give it back. I scraped my hair into a ponytail and applied foundation and concealer to plaster up the dark patches and cracks showing on my face.