by Lori L. Otto
“I’m not!”
“And you’re sure he’s the one you want to give this precious gift to?”
“Oh, Lord,” Clara starts.
“Shut up, Clara,” we both say to her.
“Virgins,” she mumbles under her breath. I find a pair of socks on my dresser and throw them at her.
“I’m sure he’s the one. I love him very much, and I know he loves me, too.”
“And prom night? Isn’t that a little cliché?”
“It’s totally cliché,” Clara chimes in, “but who cares? It’s sex!” she whispers enthusiastically.
I ignore her and continue addressing my older, more mature cousin. “It’s an important night to Jon, and to me. I mean, we get to dress up like adults and have a nice dinner like adults, and I have no curfew, like an adult–”
“Because your parents trust that you’re going to make smart decisions.”
“I am, Lex. I’m taking the pill–”
“It’s not guaranteed–”
“Will you let me finish? He’s going to use protection, too. We’ll be extra safe.”
She looks at me, disappointed. “Well, where is he taking you?”
“He got a room at the hotel that his prom is being held at.” I start looking through the drawer that Clara has made a complete mess of until I find the invitation. “The Manhattanite Inn.” Internally, I cringe a little. I’ve only driven by the place a few times, and there’s nothing special about it.
“The Manhattanite? Livvy, is that good enough for you?”
“Lexi, it doesn’t matter where, she’s in love, and she’s ready. Will you stop trying to talk her out of this already?”
“I’m not, Clara. I just want to make sure she’s considering all of her options. When she thinks back on this night, is she going to have any regrets? Will she wish it were another man? Another day? Another place? Another time? This should be perfect, Livvy.”
“It will be. I’ll be with him, and that’s all that matters to me. He’ll take care of me, no matter where or when this happens. All I’ll remember is that it was with him. And I’m good with that.”
“Hey, girls,” my mom says, knocking on my door only after she’s opened it. My heart starts to pound in my chest, afraid that she’s heard what we’re talking about. “Oh, Livvy, look at you,” she says with a growing smile on her face. “You look stunning. Your cousins definitely did a better job than I would have,” she admits.
“Thanks, Mom.” I let out a quick breath, relieved that she didn’t hear.
“Jon should be here soon, right?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“Come show your dad, before he gets here. I think he’s got something for you.”
I start out of my bedroom, followed by my cousins. Clara grabs the small clutch I’d left on my dresser and hands it to me. “Lipstick. A mirror. Powder. Condoms. You’re set,” she whispers. I blush hard, and notice Lexi quickly looking away.
“Dad’s in our room,” my mother says. “I think he wants to talk to you for a minute.”
“But if Jon comes–” I pause at the base of the stairs to the third floor.
“We’ll entertain him,” Clara says.
“That doesn’t comfort me,” I tell her sarcastically, clasping tightly to my small purse. I walk slowly up the stairs, taking each step carefully. I knock on the bedroom door, and wait for him to respond before I walk in. “Hey, Daddy.” I push the door open and take two steps inside. He’s struggling with one of his cufflinks. “Got somewhere nice to go?” I ask.
“I thought I’d take your mom out since Jackson’s at Stevie’s house. We won’t be late, though, should you need to call us for anything. Don’t hesitate.”
“Dad, I’ll be fine.”
“Right, you’ll–” He finally looks up at me, and his eyes grow sad. “You’ll be fine. My god, where did my little girl go?” he asks.
“She’s right here, Dad. I swear to God, if you make me cry, you’ll have Clara to deal with.”
He laughs aloud, walking toward me. “So this is the dress that cost more than my first car, huh?”
“It’s perfect, though... isn’t it?”
“It’s lovely. You look exquisite, Livvy. I just can’t believe how grown up you are.” I give him a stern look, silently warning him to not make me get emotional. “You know, I’ve got half a mind to send a bodyguard with you. With that necklace, too? Let’s just say I hope Jon’s schoolmates aren’t desperate.”
“I’ll be fine, Dad. No one will even think it’s real. They’ll assume it’s costume jewelry.”
“If they have any iota of who you are, they’ll know it’s real.”
“Well, it’s safe to say I don’t look like the Livvy Holland everyone recognizes. And I know Jon has been discreet about me with his classmates.”
“Just promise me you’ll be safe tonight.” My cheeks burn hot, my guilt obvious. I maintain eye contact, though, to try to counteract my reflexive reaction to his plea.
“Of course we will.” I should have said I. Don’t ask me anything, please. Don’t.
“Good. Now, Liv, I think you look beautiful, but something’s missing.”
“I’m not wearing a coat, Dad. It’s too warm and this dress is too hot,” I tease him.
“Alright,” he playfully concedes. “But will you wear this?” He reaches over to his nightstand and hands me a medium-sized navy Swarovski box.
“Dad...” I sigh, opening it up. Inside is a beautiful crystal headband. “It’s so pretty.”
“I’m glad you like it. Mom helped pick it out.”
“It’s perfect.” He takes it out of the box and carefully places it on my head. I watch in the mirror, helping to put it in the right place.
“You look like a princess,” he says, admiring my reflection. He swallows hard. “My little Contessa.”
“Oh, Daddy,” I tell him, my eyes starting to water. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Livvy.” He hugs me tightly, and when he releases me, he hands me a handkerchief from his coat pocket. “You grew up too fast,” he says, “but you’ll never stop being my little girl.”
“I know,” I laugh over a soft cry, blotting the wetness from my eyes. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world. I mean it.”
“I feel pretty lucky myself,” he responds, embracing me once more. “I think I heard your date come in. Shall we make a grand entrance?” he says, offering me his elbow.
“Sure.” My arm linked in his as he opens the door, I realize this is what it will feel like when he walks me down the aisle someday. I’m not ready for that, and have to release him before I start crying. I think he was thinking the same thing, because I can hear his sigh of relief. He lets me walk down the stairs first.
At the base of the staircase stands Jon, looking handsome, somehow older, and very nervous. He’s wringing his hands together, and looks in my direction as soon as he hears me walking toward him. I can see his sudden intake of air, and it makes me smile.
“You didn’t hold back, did you?” he asks when I finally reach the foyer. His fingertips brush my forearm, bringing out quick goose bumps. His hair is pushed back neatly and he smells of nice cologne.
“Is it too much?” I touch the necklace tentatively.
“Absolutely,” he says. “Too much for me to take in,” he corrects himself, glancing to acknowledge my dad. “Hi, Jack.” He extends his hand to shake my father’s.
“Jon, how are you this evening?”
“Great.” He turns his attention back to me, shaking his head slightly. “I have never seen a more beautiful woman.” He swallows, his cheeks turning a soft pink color.
“Oh,” I hear Mom sigh softly behind me.
Dad clears his throat. “I hope you don’t mind,” my dad says, “but Anna tends to go overboard.” He holds something out and hands it to Jon. It’s a set of cufflinks, in the deep red color of my dress. I know that the stone in the center of each is a real diamond. I know my a
unt.
“Wow,” Jon says. “They’re very nice. I’ve never owned any cufflinks.” My mom steps in to help him put them on. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And they’re neutral enough that you should be able to get a lot of wear out of them,” Mom says, “for interviews or whatever.” She smiles as he looks at his wrists.
“You look perfect,” I tell him, holding one of his hands in mine.
“Thank you.” He leans in to kiss me.
“Careful with the lipstick,” Clara says, and Jon pulls back quickly. It’s probably a good thing she interrupted us, because that could have turned into a very passionate, telling kiss. When I look into his eyes, it seems like they’re confirming what he’d told me last week: that he wants to be with me. My breath catches in my throat, my stomach tightening.
“Okay, Aunt Emi, here’s your camera,” Lexi says.
“Do we have to?” I ask, embarrassed.
“Please, do,” Jon says. “I want to remember this moment years from now.” I want to roll my eyes, but I know he’s being sincere, and it’s so sweet that I start to feel weak on my legs again.
My cousin hands Jon my corsage, and I take the boutonniere from my mom. Anna made both of them to match my dress, using deep red roses and camellias, my favorites. She’s adorned them with black and white ribbons decorated with crystals.
“How do I do this?” Jon asks, holding the flower up to my strapless dress. I hold my wrist out to him, and he realizes there’s a band attached to it. “That makes more sense,” he mumbles to himself, slipping it on as my mother snaps pictures. He squeezes my hand and gives me another amorous glance. I can’t wait to be alone with him.
“Here,” I tell him as I pin the boutonniere onto his lapel. My hand lingers on his chest.
“Just a few more pictures,” my mom says, leading us into the living room by the fireplace. She takes multiple pictures of me and Jon before my dad steps in, telling Mom to take a couple of me and him. Jon stands across the room, admiring me, as my dad and I stand closely to one another. It’s safe to say I’ve never felt closer to Dad than I have the past week.
“Okay, then,” Dad says when we’re finished posing for the photos. “Livvy said you were taking her car?” he asks Jon.
“If that’s okay, yes. I swear, I’m a very safe driver.”
“It’s fine,” he says, opening the front door. I quickly hug Clara and Lexi as Dad ushers my Mom and Jon outside.
“I put a bag in the trunk,” Clara whispers to me. “Just a few things I thought you might want.”
I smile and blush, embracing her once more.
I get outside just in time to hear my dad start to lecture Jon. “I just want your word–both of you–that if you have any alcohol tonight–”
“And you can’t, by the way–” Mom interjects, turning around quickly.
“We won’t,” I stop her as I put my hand on her arm.
“If you do, though,” Dad continues, “I just want your word that you will not get behind the wheel. Even if it’s just one drink.”
Jon stands squarely in front of him, looking at him directly. “I promise, Jack. We won’t do either of those things.”
“Thank you.” He hands Jon the keys to my car and puts his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Just remember that you’ve got my only daughter with you. My Contessa. No matter what she may become to you in the distant future.” He pauses and shoots a playful warning glance to each of us, “She’ll always be my princess first. And there is no one in the world quite like her.”
“I have to agree,” Jon says.
“She’s my sixteen-year-old princess. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Jon smiles back.
“It’s Jack. We’ve been over this.”
He simply nods and answers respectfully, “Yes, sir. Good night, Jack.” They shake hands once more as Jon opens the door for me.
I look up at my father. “Night, Daddy,” I tell him, stepping into the car. Jon walks around to the driver’s side, and Dad leans over and kisses my cheek. His tie slips out of his coat jacket, hanging loosely in front of him. All of a sudden, I feel like that three-year-old girl he met in a hospital hallway so many years ago. I tug on his necktie gently. He smiles warmly, and I have no doubt he’s remembering back to that night, too.
“Good night, Contessa.” He looks away quickly, but I’m sure I saw his eyes begin to water. When he shuts the door, I have to take a few deep breaths to keep myself from crying.
“Are you ready?” Jon asks after starting the car. My dad puts his arm around Mom’s shoulder and leads her back into the house. They turn around to wave once more just before going inside. Mom blows me a kiss, and I return the gesture.
“I think so,” I tell him. At the same time, we lean into one another to kiss. It’s a careful one, though.
“Alright,” he says with a sigh, pulling away from the curb. “Promise me something tonight.”
“What?” I twirl the ring around my finger nervously.
“Please don’t dance with any other guys tonight.”
“Well, that’s an easy promise. Of course I won’t!”
“Because they’re going to ask, and I couldn’t bear to see anyone else’s hands on you.”
“No one’s going to ask because my eyes are going to be fixed on you all night. They’ll know from one glance that you’re the only one I’m interested in.” He looks over at me and lifts his thumb to my ear, dragging it slowly down my neck, over my collarbone, stopping at the top of the dress.
“I don’t think that will stop anyone.”
“Well, then, surely the kissing will be a deterrent.”
“The kissing?”
“Yes. No one wants to bother two people making out in public.”
He lets out a hearty laugh. “Is that what we’re going to do tonight?”
“I hope so,” I admit. “I didn’t get this dressed up to have you admire me from afar.”
“Well, I can promise you I won’t keep my hands off of you.” He puts his hand on my thigh and takes some of the chiffon between his fingers. I touch his fingers with mine. “Are you having any second thoughts?” he asks me, catching me off guard.
I stare ahead, watching the traffic in front of us. I shrug my shoulders to answer him, and am fortunate that he happened to be looking in my direction at that moment.
“Yeah?”
“A little.”
“What’s up?”
“No,” I tell him, not wanting to admit the feelings I’m having. And it’s not just where he’s taking me. I just feel like–if this happens–I won’t be Daddy’s little girl anymore, and as silly as it sounds, I don’t want to give that up. Not tonight, anyway. I touch the headband with my hand, remembering the way he looked at me. Why the rush?
“No, you’re not having second thoughts?”
“Well, it’s just that...” I decide to tell him about my apprehension toward the hotel. “Jon, I don’t want to sound like a little brat, but–”
“The Manhattanite?” he asks, cutting me off.
“Kind of.”
“I wondered when you’d ever bring that up,” he says with a smile in his eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of taking you there for our first time.”
“Well, where?”
“There’s a new, small hotel in the Upper East Side. It’s really nice. I went by there earlier this week to make sure their advertisements weren’t exaggerated.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to, Olivia. I want this to be perfect.”
“Okay,” I concede, looking away from him. “Me, too.”
The hotel has a valet, so Jon hands him the keys after he helps me out of the car. He cups my hand in his and leads me inside. Even though I’m wearing insanely high heels, he seems taller tonight, his posture straighter, his confidence obvious.
He politely greets a few of the teachers at a table in front of the ballroom.
“Jon Scott an
d Olivia Choisie,” he tells them, straining to look at the guest list. When he sees our names–or at least his name and the one he’d given for me–he points it out on the list. An older man in an old suit crosses off our names and gives each of us a program.
“Olivia Choisie, huh?”
“It’s got a nice ring to it, right?”
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
“Well, I just didn’t want anyone on the prom council seeing your real name on the list. I thought it might turn into a circus.”
“Like I said. You’ve thought of everything.”
When he introduces me to a few of his friends and classmates, he puts his arm firmly around my waist, and I like the way it feels. I feel like I’m protected and safe. I feel like I belong to him. I like that feeling.
Looking around the room, I do feel a bit overdressed, but I wouldn’t have chosen a short, bright dress like the ones most of the other girls wear. Tonight is too special. When I walk across the room to the dance floor, my arm locked in Jon’s, I feel like royalty.
I’m poised and comfortable and graceful, and happy to be Jon’s date–and girlfriend.
We dance to a lot of the songs, including every popular ballad that the DJ plays, looking around the room in between lengthy stares and kisses that are growing more and more intimate as the night wears on. Our last one is interrupted by a chaperone’s tap on both of our shoulders.
We decide to take a break, going to the back of the ballroom to get a drink. A few of his friends follow us, and we grab a table and talk about what everyone’s doing after prom. One of the guys is having a party in his hotel room, and he invites us to come, promising beer and some college girls he had invited.
“Yeah, maybe we’ll stop by,” Jon says. As the friends continue discussing their plans, Jon leans into me and whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry, we’re not.”
“It’s okay if you want to,” I tell him. “Just for a bit, you know?”
He pulls back and looks me square in the eyes, confused.
“I don’t want to,” he affirms. “Why, do you?”
“No,” I tell him, shaking my head.