It's Our Prom (So Deal With It)

by Julie Anne Peters

  “Do you want a ride to the pavilion?” Dad asks.

  “No,” I lie. “I’m riding with Luke and his new crush.” Crush is an understatement; they’ve been lip-locked since the play last night.

  Dad pulls a square box from behind his back. “I know you like purple, so…” He opens it to reveal an orchid corsage. I choke back tears. He’s so considerate, and I’m so miserable. He removes the corsage and tries to pin it to my dress. After the third time it falls off, I tell him, “I’ll do it. Klutz.”

  He steps back to the door and says, “You look rad.”

  I make a face at him and go, “That is so eighties.”

  “Translation,” he says. “I think you’re beautiful.”

  If he doesn’t leave, my makeup is going to be a lost cause.

  “I’ll see you there.” Dad winks. “Save me a dance.”

  “Daaad.”

  He grins. “Just joking.”

  The weather was so nice all week that almost all the snow melted. I made an executive decision this morning to take down the plywood and have an open-air prom. Now the weather forecasters are predicting rain for later this evening. Great. If prom is a disaster, it’ll be on my head. Again.

  I sit at my desk and log on to Prom Central for transportation options. Limos are listed first. I don’t care if I have a date or not; I’m taking a limo to my prom.

  I know Luke’s brother owns A-1 Car Service, so I call that number first. A recorded voice says: “I’m sorry. All of our cars are booked this evening, but please try us again for your future needs.”

  Crap. There’s a free service listed—Stan’s Super Sedan. I’m sure they’ll be booked, too, but I try anyway. “Hello?” a man says.

  “Hi. I’d like a ride to my prom.”

  He takes down my address and asks, “How many people?”

  “Just one.”

  He hesitates. I know it’s a waste of his time to drive one person, and I almost tell him to forget it, but he says, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Five minutes later, a stretch limo pulls into the drive. I’m glad Dad isn’t here to witness what a loser his daughter is.

  “Miss?” The driver holds open the back door. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with a lipped cap. For an instant the light catches his face, and I see him clearly. He looks like…

  “Owen?”

  He does a double take. “Do I know you?”

  “I’m Azure. Luke’s friend?”

  “Oh, right. Sorry; I didn’t recognize you.”

  “I think we’ve only met a couple of times.”

  He removes his cap and swoops it in a gesture for me to get in.

  I slide across the leather seat and smell a toxic mixture of perfume and cologne. “I thought your company was A-1,” I say.

  Owen takes a wide turn out to the street. “I go by a lot of names.” His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror.

  Okay. Weird. Luke never told me that.

  I do remember Luke telling me that Owen takes in a lot of money from proms. “Why would you do this for free?” I ask. “Limo rides must cost, what? A hundred, two hundred dollars? Unless you charge by the person, which means you’d get, like, twenty bucks from me.”

  He says, “There are tons of proms coming up. This is Luke’s. It’s the least I can do. Don’t tell him, though.”

  “Why not? I think it’s nice.”

  “I don’t want him getting the wrong idea about me.”

  Like you care? Like you love him? Luke should know how cool Owen is, because life’s too short to not appreciate the kindness and devotion of others—especially your own family.

  I hear the prom before we exit the freeway. Owen has to wait for another limo ahead of him entering the parking lot before he can pull in. The other limo driver’s window is down, and Owen calls to him, “Dobbs, when you finish your last run, there’s a parking lot down the street where we can wait for after-prom pickups.”

  The driver gives him a thumbs-up.

  The pavilion is already packed. People are dancing in couples and groups. The decorations are fantastic. The rainbow balloon arch is three times the size I imagined, and there are multicolored twinkling lights strung all the way around the pavilion, with shimmering Mylar draped between the columns.

  I can’t see the band from where I’m standing, so I try to inch closer to the front.

  As Luke would say, Oh. Em. Gee. They’re—what do you call it—dominatrixes? Dressed in black leather and chains. One has a whip, and she’s snapping it.

  A laugh burbles up from my core and I cover my mouth. Then I see her—Radhika! My stomach does a loop-de-loop. She’s dancing with someone and, as I make my way over to her, I see that she’s dressed in a yellow silk sari with bracelets and anklets. Her hair is braided and pulled back.

  I put a hand on her shoulder and she spins around. Her eyes are outlined with black kohl, and she has a jewel in the middle of her forehead.

  “Azure.” She embraces me.

  I hold her tight. “You came,” I say in her ear.

  “How could I not come to my own prom?” She smiles slyly. “Do you know Mario?”

  Mario, from Luke’s play. “Hi,” I say. Actually, I yell, because the band is so loud.

  The song ends and Mario says, “Do you want some cake, Radhika?”

  She says, “No, thanks. Do you mind if I talk to Azure for a minute?”

  He looks from me to her. “Not at all. I’ll just be… eating cake.” His eyes have this glassy, lovestruck look in them. I know how he feels.

  The band starts up again and Radhika says in my ear, “We can’t talk here. Let’s go outside.”

  I follow her out of the pavilion to the lawn. “I wasn’t going to come,” she says. “I really wasn’t. But then I finally just said, ‘To hell with it,’ and I asked him.”

  “ ‘Him’ being Mario?”

  “Yes. And he said yes! I’ve been going to Luke’s practices, hoping Mario would see me there and maybe ask me. I’ve liked him for a long time.” She lowers her eyes.

  “You never told me that.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I was afraid you or Luke might say something to him.”

  Which Luke probably would have. Knowing Radhika, it would’ve embarrassed her to death. And okay, I might’ve hinted to him, too. Anything to make Radhika happy.

  “You look gorgeous,” I tell her.

  She meets my eyes and smiles. “The other day my mom brought out this sari for me and said she’d been saving it. I knew she’d be disappointed if I didn’t go to prom, after she defended it and all. Not that I cared about that so much, but I never want to live with regrets. You know?”

  Do I ever.

  Her eyes sparkle in the lights. Mine stray to a clump of adults at one end of the pavilion, where I see Mr. and Mrs. Dal, both dressed in traditional Indian garb.

  Radhika’s eyes search the tent where the chairs and tables are set up. She says, “He’s nice, don’t you think?”

  I don’t really know him all that well. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “He told me he’s had a crush on me for a while, but thought I was out of his league. Can you believe that?” Before I can answer, she adds, “Do you know how hard it is to like someone and keep it all inside?”

  I almost laugh out loud.

  “Oh, Azure. I’m so happy.” She hugs me hard.

  I try to look as stoked as she feels. “I’m glad you came,” I say. And I mean that sincerely. “Tell your father thank you for making the prom possible.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “You know.”

  Her frown deepens. “If you mean the donation, it wasn’t from him. I don’t know where the money came from. I never asked him for a cent.”

  “Radhika…”

  “What?” she says. “I wasn’t about to be coerced or bribed into anything.”

  “But… Who? Where?”

  “I’d already decided I was going to Yale. I guess I should’ve
told you that, too.”

  Now I’m doubly shocked. “Uh, yeeeah. What changed your mind? The trip to the campus?”

  “No. Well, yes and no. It was really what you said about how I may only get one opportunity, and I should take it. Besides, I may be of more use in the Peace Corps with a degree in engineering or something.”

  Mario returns with a ginormous square of cake and three forks. He offers the forks to us. “You go ahead,” I tell them. “I need to, um…” Get lost.

  I see the makeshift dressing rooms behind the band, which must be set up for people to change before and after the drag show. I haven’t seen Luke, so maybe that’s where he is. Except I thought the drag show followed the an-nouncement of the prom king and queen.

  “We’ll be taking a break now,” the lead singer says, and people head off for the tables and chairs.

  “Excuse me. May I have your attention?” Shauna speaks into the microphone onstage.

  She looks pretty. She’s wearing a short, spaghetti-strap, cream-colored, shimmery dress, with shoes to match. Her hair has rainbow ribbons in it. I wish I’d thought of that.

  She says, “It’s time to crown our prom royalty.”

  I hear a few boos from the tables. Shauna must hear them, too, because she snarls, “Oh, get over it.” She cracks me up. Shauna holds an envelope with the voting results. “Just a minute,” she says, then disappears backstage, returning with the band’s drummer.

  “This year’s prom king is…” She cues the drummer, who rat-a-tats the announcement. Shauna rips open the envelope and arches her eyebrows. “Luke O’Donnell.”

  People whistle and applaud. I don’t see Luke at first—then this streak of white lightning flies up the stairs.

  My eyes widen. His tuxedo is pure white and the jacket is long, like a zoot suit, with sequined lapels, over a black shirt and black tie. He looks so totally cool.

  Shauna places the crown on Luke’s head and he raises his arms in the air as he swaggers away.

  “And now for your prom queen.” Shauna cues the drummer, who does a wild riff, twirling the drumsticks and ending with a clang on the cymbals. Shauna opens the envelope and stares at the results. She shakes her head. “Luke O’Donnell.”

  People shriek. Luke races back to the stage.

  Shauna seems kind of reluctant to give Luke the tiara, so there’s a bit of tussling. Eventually, she relinquishes the crown and sash. He bows and curtsies. Into the mike, he says, “I’m honored. And humbled.”

  I snort.

  He makes circles with his hand. “Thank you, my liege. And now for the royal dance.” He wraps his arms around himself and sways back and forth. People are either laughing or booing, but in a kind way. Luke leaps off the stage into Ryan’s arms. He places the king’s crown on Ryan’s head.

  The rest of the band returns and begins again with a slow song. I feel a tap on my shoulder. A familiar voice says, “Can you dance?”

  I turn and it’s Desirae. My eyes span the length of her and I let out an audible gasp. Under the dome and at night, the red dress is ravishing on her.

  “You like?” She pulls out the sides and shifts from one foot to the other.

  “I love,” I say.

  She smiles. “So would it be okay with Radhika if I danced with you?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” I ask.

  She blinks. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

  “Huh?”

  Desi tilts her head.

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I say.

  She looks confused. “She’s not?”

  “No. She never was.” And never will be, I admit to myself. “What about your girlfriend?” I ask. “Will she mind?”

  Desi makes a face. “What girlfriend?”

  “I thought you said… That girl who hangs around with you.”

  “You mean my cousin, Christine?”

  Her cousin? “But I thought you said you had a girlfriend.”

  “I never said we were still together. We broke up in September. Christine’s a senior and she didn’t have a date for prom, so she asked if I’d come with her.”

  A beat goes by and we both laugh a little. Then a lot. Desi opens her arms to dance.

  The only way I know how to slow-dance is to put my arms around the person and sway to the beat. Desi rests her head on my shoulder, and her warmth spreads through me. I feel the hitch in my lower belly that I used to get with her.

  “You smell good,” she says. “Like vanilla.”

  “I ate a carton of Ben and Jerry’s for dinner,” I say.

  She laughs softly. We don’t talk again until the song ends. I don’t want to let her go, and I wish Putrid Wixen would play slow songs all evening. Then I notice the necklace.

  “I saw that at the silent auction,” I tell her.

  “I know! I’ve been looking for it forever. It must’ve gotten hooked to some other jewelry, because when I saw it at the auction, I about had a heart attack. Of course, I had to buy it back.” She fingers it gently and says, “It means everything to me.”

  A memory floats to the surface. “The Valentine’s Day card in my locker…”

  A slow smile spreads across her face. “Did you like it? It took me an hour to find just the right verse online, then I was scared to death to give it to you. And I knew I shouldn’t because you were with Radhika.”

  Crazy. Such craziness. We gaze into each other’s eyes.

  Desi says, “Do you believe the theory that people may be right for each other, but they meet at the wrong time in their lives and don’t realize it?”

  I tell her the truth: “I never thought about it.”

  “I have,” she says. “I’ve thought about it a lot.” The music starts again and we dance to the heavy-metal beat, but close together. Her hand touches mine and a jolt of electricity zings up my arm.

  I lean in close and ask her, “Why did you and your girlfriend break up?” Then I want to clap my hand over my mouth, because what if Desi got dumped again?

  But she just smiles and says in my ear, “Because she wasn’t you.”

  LUKE

  It’s funny that the gamers are all dressed in tuxes. But then, everything is funny. The whole world has come alive. Ryan’s holding my hand, swirling me under his arm. I feel like the carousel is going round and round. Where it stops, nobody knows.

  I think that’s supposed to rhyme, but I’m too light-headed to remember the verse.

  “Mind if we sit for a minute?” Ryan says. “These shoes are killing me.”

  My feet could be bloody stumps and I wouldn’t feel a thing.

  As we head for the tents, I see Gabe dancing with Haley. Last night at the cast party I got the scoop: Gabe broke up with Haley to ask Radhika to the prom, and when she said no, he wanted to get back with Haley. Initially Haley was pissed, but in the end, true love won out. Connor’s dancing with Mollie. He gives me a thumbs-up. I blow him a kiss. I blow everyone a kiss as we pass by.

  For the millionth time, I pull out my cell and take a picture of Ryan and me. If he’s getting annoyed, he doesn’t say anything. He’s so adorable.

  I snap him from the back, too. He has a cute tush.

  Azure’s at the table with her old girlfriend, Desirae. They’re sort of snuggling and whispering sweet nothings. What did I miss while I was blissing out?

  Desirae sees me and says, “Props on winning prom king and queen.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “And I didn’t even vote for myself.”

  Azure blows out a puff of air.

  “What’s with this?” I circle my hand around the two of them.

  Azure imitates my gesture around Ryan and me. “What’s with this?”

  ’Nuf said, I guess. Ryan sits and pulls up a chair in front of him to rest his feet.

  “Ryan was my secret admirer,” I tell Azure. When her face remains impassive, I add, “On Valentine’s Day.”

  She looks at Desi and they both laugh.

  What? It’s not a joke.

&n
bsp; “Guess who mine was?” Azure goes.

  It takes me a second, then I join in the laughter.

  Shauna wanders over to our table with her date in tow. “Do you guys know Hans?”

  I do, of course. He’s the hunky exchange student from Sweden.

  We all introduce ourselves and Shauna and Hans pull up chairs at the table. She says to me, “You’d better get ready for the drag show, Luke. It’s getting late.”

  For the first time, I’m hesitant. What if the real me sends Ryan running? If it does, I’ll know he’s not The One, as Azure says. I so want him—need him—to be The One. Stomach in knots, I head backstage to get ready.

  I pass Radhika, who is holding Mario’s good hand. “Hey, when did this…?” I gesture at the two of them.

  Radhika leans down and plants a soft kiss on my cheek. She’s still gorgeous and desirable. But maybe a little less so? I hope we’ll always be friends. I glance back over my shoulder and Ryan smiles such a sweet smile that it melts me into marshmallow creme.

  I quickly race to the makeshift changing area behind the stage. Putting on my drag gear is a well-practiced routine.

  The lead singer of Putrid Wixen hands me the mike and I announce from behind the drummer: “And now… now… now… From the Excalibur in Vegas… Vegas… Vegas… The Thunder from Down Under.”

  Whoops of glee rise up from the audience. Before I get in trouble, I add quickly, “Okay, we couldn’t get them. But we do have our own Roosevelt Roosters.” I hit Play on the boom box and this smarmy prerecorded music comes on. The entire football team, dressed in drag, struts across the stage. People cheer wildly. This is going to cost me a fortune in bribe money, but it’s worth it.

  The serious dragsters are up next.

  I strut out to rousing applause. Cuing the music, I lip-synch “Popular” from Wicked. I’m followed by a gaggle of guys dressed like girls. They do a dance routine to Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” Then a girl karaokes Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror.”

  The band returns while everyone changes and I hurry back to our table. Thank God Ryan hasn’t bolted.

  I sit and he says, “You were awesome.”

  OMG. He’s The One! “Maybe I’ll buy you some boobies for graduation,” I tell him.