Prom Crashers

by Erin Downing

  Max grunted from his post on the ground. “What she said.”

  “You guys!” Emily stuck out her foot and rolled Max onto his side on the grass so he was facing her. “We have to do this together. One last fling before we all take off for college. The ultimate challenge. What do you say?”

  “I say”—Sid chewed her Pop-Tart with her mouth open—”screw prom. I’m not going to my own—why would I want to go to someone else’s?”

  Charlie pushed his lip out in a pout. “I need you, Sid.”

  “Forget it,” Emily retorted. “I’m not begging. But it’s going to be a blast. That’s all I’m saying. I know that I need something to get me through the rest of this year. I mean, this is the last month or whatever of our last year of high school. It would have been fun to go out in style, the four of us, you know?” She blew her bangs out of her face and crossed her arms over her chest. “Whatever. You guys can spend the next month studying by yourselves. Charlie and I are going to rock crashing proms. Harumph.” She had a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  Sid shrugged and glanced at Max. “Fine. I’m in.” She grinned meekly. “When you put it that way.”

  “Nuh-uh.” Emily shook her finger. “Not like that. If you’re in, you’re in. No half-hearted ‘fine.’” She made quotes in the air.

  Charlie snickered. “Tough guy. I like it.”

  “I’m in! I’m in!” Sid sarcastically cheered her arms in the air. “Better? I’ll take anything to kill the time until we graduate. It sounds sort of fun.” She shrugged. “Besides, you literally couldn’t drag me to my own prom. So this is a good way to see what this prom crap is all about. Do I get to wear pink?”

  “I’ll do it on one condition,” Max broke in, pushing himself up on his elbows on the ground. He was laughing at the image of Sid in pink.

  “Yes?” Emily prompted. She was giddy with the hope that this might actually happen. She could think of no better way to celebrate prom season—and get a date—than with a crazy challenge.

  Max looked at Emily sternly. “This is about the quest. I couldn’t care less about finding this guy—it just sounds like a good time. You promise you won’t get all serious and psychostalker?”

  “Come on…. Who would be more into the adventure than me? This is totally about the quest.” She looked innocent and laughed when Max continued to look at her sharply.

  “Fine,” he agreed. “But promise anyway. This is not just about the guy.”

  She nodded seriously. “I promise. Of course I want to find Ethan. But prom crashing is the perfect distraction to kill the time before we get out of this lame town. And if we succeed in our mission, I will have a superfoxy date. What could be better than that?”

  Three

  “We have nine targets.” Charlie had spread paper beverage napkins across the counter at the Leaf Lounge. Each napkin had the name of one of the local high schools written on it. He and Emily were working the Wednesday night shift, and Charlie had spent most of it plotting their first move for Operation Prom Crashing.

  Max, who was sitting on Frank’s stool at the counter, had come to the mall partly to plan, partly to flesh out his latest story pitch (a feature about some local guy who carved bears out of cheese rind), and partly to catch the tail end of Sid’s set.

  Sid often played her guitar and sang in the evenings at the Leaf Lounge. Gary thought she gave the place a cool vibe, and Sid was happy to have the venue. She was trying to get her start somewhere, and while she realized the mall coffee shop wasn’t the Knitting Factory in New York, at least it gave her practice playing in front of a live crowd.

  As was often the case, though, the “crowd” was only two people strong—Max, of course, and Vern, a cashier from Dylan’s, the mall department store, who had hustled over to hear her play during his break. Vern always came to Sid’s sets—he fashioned himself her biggest fan. He was maybe her only nonfriend fan. Sid’s ultimate goal was to spend her life touring the country to play small clubs in big cities. But the first step was to extend her reach beyond the mall’s four walls and gain a slightly cooler fan base.

  Her bluesy-rock sound was fabulous. She just needed her break.

  As Sid struck the final chord for her last song, Vern broke into mad applause. Emily rolled her eyes. Sid dropped her guitar into its case and strolled over to the counter, with a brief nod in Vern’s direction.

  “Complimentary beverage?” Emily asked. “Great set.”

  “Coffee?” Sid grabbed one of the napkins off the counter and studied it. She didn’t like to talk about her performances—she always said that the lack of audience was painfully depressing. “What’s all this?”

  “All this,” Charlie explained, “is the beginning of a plan. Did everyone do their research this week?”

  The other three nodded. After agreeing to Emily’s prom crashing plan the previous weekend, each of them had contacted everyone they knew, trying to get intelligence about all the other proms around the city so that they could formulate a plan. As they reported their findings, Charlie pulled out each school’s napkin and scribbled out the date and location of its prom.

  Emily studied the napkins and began to sort them into piles. “We have four weekends. Nine proms.”

  “We can count out our own schools,” Max said, plucking the napkins with South and Humphrey written on them. “We know Ethan won’t be there, right? Charlie, Sid, you checked South’s directory for an Ethan?” Charlie nodded. “So that’s only seven. Not bad.”

  Sid slapped her hand on the counter. “Totally doable.”

  “We have a big weekend ahead of us,” Emily said, grinning. “Three this Saturday—Marshall, Park, and Memorial.”

  “Like, three days from now?” Max asked, sounding mildly concerned.

  “Yup. You worried?” Emily poked him in the arm. He poked her back. Emily hoped he was eating real food again and not just grapefruit, otherwise he’d be really crabby for their first proms.

  Charlie shuffled three of the napkins so that they were lined up in front of him on the counter. “All right,” he said, suddenly very businesslike. “What’s our strategy for these first three? Do we just break in? Show up? How are we gonna do this?”

  Emily chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. “Well, I guess we could just sneak in,” she said finally. “Though that seems a little boring.”

  “And not possible at Memorial,” Sid said, sipping her coffee. “The guy I know who goes there said security is really tight on the day of prom. The dance itself is held in Memorial’s gym. They lock all the doors a few hours before prom starts to keep the unsavory types out. And it’s a superstrict ticket system. I guess the parents all get paranoid for their precious babies’ security.”

  “Okay.” Emily nodded. “So sneaking in isn’t an option at Memorial. Maybe we could plant someone on the inside before they lock the doors?”

  Charlie clapped. “I like that!”

  “The other two are both at the convention center,” Max broke in. He had found the details about Marshall and Park’s proms online. “So maybe we divide and conquer? Two of us go to Marshall and Park, the other two to Memorial?”

  “Yeah,” Emily said, “that would be good, except I’m the only one who knows what Ethan looks like. The point of our mission, remember?”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes … the guy.”

  “Ethan,” Emily corrected. “Plus, isn’t this more fun if we all do it together? Max, what if you and I try to break into Marshall and Park, then meet up with Sid and Charlie at Memorial later? They could sneak into the school that afternoon and hang out, then let us in through an unguarded door when we get there?”

  “Nice.” Charlie waved the napkin with Memorial written on it. “My first conquest.”

  Sid raised her hand. “One other tiny issue,” she said, waiting to get their attention. “I have nothing to wear.”

  “I can borrow my dad’s tux,” Max declared proudly. “It might be a little big and boxy, but
it’s free. If I’m not going to my own prom, I’m not paying to rent one.” Max didn’t have a date for prom. He and Emily had sort of joked about going together, but neither had actually bought tickets.

  “I own a tux, so I’m good,” Charlie said. “I feel tacky wearing the same shirt more than once, but I guess since it will be different crowds at each prom, I can break the rule.”

  Emily and Sid exchanged a look. “Since I’m not officially going to prom—yet—it might be a little tough to convince my parents to buy me a dress. I’d have to do too much explaining. How about you, Sid?”

  “Nothing. And I’m not borrowing from my mom. Nuh-uh. No freakin’ way. She wears shoulder pads.”

  “So we can either buy something or go with what we have. We’ll obviously look out of place in jeans, which makes crashing a little more challenging. Don’t we need to fit in to get in?”

  Sid nodded. “I’m going to propose a third option, since I refuse to buy a prom dress.” She jumped off her stool. “Max, can you cover for Em? Charlie doesn’t do anything, and someone has to serve the customers while I steal Emily for two secs.”

  “Hey!” Charlie feigned anger, but knew he had no right to be defensive.

  “I don’t even know what a green tea latte is,” Max responded. “But yeah, I can cover.” He moved behind the counter as Emily slid past him and untied her apron.

  “What’s the plan?” she asked as Sid pulled her into the mall.

  “You’re about to see me do something very scary. If you laugh, I’ll bite. I mean it.” Emily promised to keep a straight face, and she followed Sid into the mall’s department store.

  Sid sauntered up to Vern, whose break had ended and who now stood sorting hangers behind the counter in the young men’s department. “Hey, Vern.” Vern looked up, a huge smile spreading across his face as Sid leaned in toward him. “Thanks for coming to hear me play tonight.”

  “Oh, uh, no problem,” Vern said, obviously taken aback by Sid approaching him.

  “What’d you think of the set?”

  “Good,” Vern replied, lowering his voice. It cracked slightly under the pressure. “You were great.”

  “Thanks, babe.” Sid smiled suggestively. “I love that you always come to my shows. It means a lot to me.”

  Vern flushed and nodded. “Yeah, well, your singing means a lot to me. You look so confident up there.”

  Emily’s head flipped back and forth like she was watching a tennis match as Sid expertly charmed and wooed Vern. She was highly impressed with—and surprised by—Sid’s flirting skills.

  “So,” Sid said, elbows resting on the counter in front of Vern. “I have a teeny-tiny favor to ask. Do you think you could help me out? It would mean the world to me.”

  Vern stuttered. “Oh, ah, sure. What’s up?”

  Sid was twisting her shortish, caramel-colored hair between two fingers. A dyedred streaky piece fell across her left eye. Vern stared at it, entranced. “The thing is, Emily and I are both going to prom. Together, as friends, of course—I don’t believe in prom dates. It’s so stifling.” She glanced at Emily. “Anyway, neither of us has anything to wear. And I’m saving up for a new guitar.” Sid broke off momentarily. “You will come hear me play it, right?”

  Vern nodded, mouth slightly agape.

  “Do you think there’s any chance you might let us borrow dresses from Dylan’s? We would clean them and return them as soon as we’re done.” Sid leaned in closer for her last line. “No one would need to know.”

  Emily stared, transfixed. She could only imagine how Vern was feeling at that moment.

  “Um.” Vern looked around to make sure no other clerks were within earshot. “It would be our little secret?”

  “Our little secret,” Sid confirmed, nodding.

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt anyone, right?” Vern’s face cracked a smile. “Follow me.”

  Sid grabbed Emily’s hand and gave it a squeeze as the two of them followed Vern through a set of double doors marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. When they reached the back room, Vern turned to face them with a huge grin. “Take your pick. I’ll guard the doors. Do you think you can find something?”

  Emily and Sid stared around at the racks and shelves of dresses hanging, folded, and boxed up, ready to be moved out to the floor. They both nodded, and Vern retreated, leaving them alone with their personal dress collection.

  “I feel so sleazy,” Sid groaned.

  “Sidney Cristina Martinez, you are a flirt. A good one.”

  “If you blab, just kill me first. I’m not proud.”

  Emily laughed. “I promise not to tell.” She flipped through a rack of dresses, searching for the size tens. There were only tiny sizes on the rack. Emily had always wondered who fit into the size zeros and twos—she was tall and lanky, with broad shoulders she had developed during her years as a competitive swimmer, and couldn’t remember ever being a zero.

  “Do you see any twos?” Sid asked, flipping through a rack across the room.

  Emily groaned inwardly. “Yeah, over here.” So size twos do exist, she thought. Sid was short and compact and absolutely adorable—until she opened her mouth. Then she was a size twenty-four.

  Sid pulled off her T-shirt, revealing her black sports bra, and slid a Pepto-Bismol-pink A-line dress over her head. She gagged loudly before pulling the dress back over her head. “Prom sucks.” She stood half-naked, selecting another dress to try on.

  “Why are you so antiprom?” Emily asked, considering a magenta dress hanging on the rack in front of her.

  “Why are you so not?” Sid retorted with a smile. “Seriously, what is it about prom that makes you so blubbery?”

  Emily raised an eyebrow. “Blubbery? That’s a flattering choice of words.” Sid shrugged. “I don’t know…. I guess I’ve always had this romantic image of promnight, with flowers and pictures and kissing and dancing. There’s just something sweet about it all.”

  “Oh, come on,” Sid blurted out. “It’s a totally old-fashioned custom that needs to die.”

  “You sound like Marco.” Emily thought back to her conversation with Charlie a few days earlier. She knew her cousin believed in prom almost as much as she did—so it was unfortunate that both his boyfriend and his best friend were so antiestablishment on the prom front. “You have to admit that getting dressed up and swooped off into a limo with a total hottie sounds fun.”

  “Sure.” Sid poked her head through the loose neck of a strapless orange gown. “If you’re getting picked up by your hot best friends and going to prom for a laugh. You can get me on board for that—but prom for real? Nope.” She laughed at the orange dress—which made her look like a Caribbean cocktail come to life—and quickly unzipped it. “Speaking of friends and prom … I’ve always sort of wanted to ask you this.” She threw the orange gown back on a hanger. “Why haven’t you and Max ever … you know …” She winked. “Isn’t this your big chance with him? You have seven proms to make it official.”

  Emily grimaced. People always asked if she and Max were hooking up. They had been friends forever, but it had never felt right. “I don’t know. I guess we’re just better friends. There’s never been an attraction like that.”

  “Have either of you ever even dated anyone else? Maybe there’s secret lust just sitting there, undiscovered.”

  Emily shook her head. “No secret lust. And yeah, I’ve dated people. Just no one decent. Slobbery-tongue Dan was my low period.”

  “What about Max? Does he have a hot history?” Sid pulled a sleeveless amethyst gown over her head.

  “No, Max has been single forever. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Uh-huh. What do you think?” Sid asked, referring to the dress. The deep blue and sleek fabric complimented her medium-brown skin perfectly, and the cut made her look like a superstar.

  Emily gave her a thumbs-up. “Perfect. You look like a tiny little model.”

  “Hey, bi—butterscotch! Tiny, I’ll take. Little, no way. I’m t
ough. You having any luck over there?” Sid strolled over toward Emily’s racks, her slouchy jeans sticking out the bottom of her dress. She pulled an emerald green cocktail dress off the rack and stood on her toes to slide it, still on its hanger, over Emily’s head.

  “So?” Emily prompted.

  “Cute. But you can do better.” Sid selected a rich pink shimmery satin gown from a box on the floor. “Take off your shirt,” she instructed.

  Emily slid her coffee-stained shirt over her head and pulled the dress on in its place. The material draped seductively over her chest and clung to her slim hips, making her look half her original size. Sid whistled.

  “You look like a pink Oscar statue. Hot.” She studied Emily’s figure wrapped into the pink material and growled. “Really hot.”

  “So this is the one?” Suddenly prom felt more real to Emily than ever before. She could see Ethan’s smile, could feel his arms wrapped around her on the dance floor. She imagined their good-night kiss.

  “That’s it. When we find Ethan, he’s going to be drooling.”

  Emily grinned and squeezed Sid into a hug. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”

  Sid and Emily strolled happily back to the Leaf Lounge, dresses tucked under their arms in Dylan’s bags. As they approached the shop’s entrance, Neil, the clerk at the jewelry kiosk in the middle of the mall’s corridor, called out to Emily. Sid hustled past, back into the Leaf Lounge, leaving Emily to fend for herself.

  “Hey, Neil.” Neil had asked Emily out once a week since she had started at the Leaf Lounge the year before. His parents owned the kiosk, so he worked most nights. He had greasy flaked hair, a rude attitude, and undeterred confidence. Neil was not her type. At all. Ever. “How’s it going?”

  “Good, good.” Neil ran his fingers through his hair, releasing a storm cloud of flakes. “What’cha got there?” He pointed to her bag.

  “Oh. Prom dress.”

  Neil stared. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “It’s a long story, actually.” Emily suddenly realized something. “What school do you go to again?” She already knew the answer.