16. Prom

Richie goes to Prom, kinda self explanatory.

“You done yet?” I said dryly as my uncle took the next dozen pictures of me.

“Just a minute, Rich,” he argued, moving to a slightly different angle for the next dozen. “You only get to do this once, you know.”

I sighed, standing there in my nicest tuxedo, trying not to go blind from the perpetual flashing.

“Where’s your date anyway?” he asked.

“She said she needed more time getting ready.”

“When did she start?”

“Last week.”

“Sounds about right.”

He took one more picture then lowered his camera for a sec.

“Now go outside,” he instructed. “We’re gonna get some in front of the house, then in front of the car, then in the car.”

I scoffed, checking the time on my watch. “Yo, chill.”

 

 

I had been waiting in her driveway for almost twenty minutes by the time she finally came out. I was playing games on my phone with the car radio on for what felt like an hour. But when she finally came walking out and got into my car I was too distracted by her appearance to think about how long I’d been waiting.

“How do I look?” she asked, with an innocently cautious smile.

“CJ…” I uttered, taken entirely by surprise. “You look amazing.”

She was in a fancy, thin, princess-looking purple dress with shiny little things all over it, and had a silver one of those windchime-type necklaces girls wear, alongside this long, matching silver earrings. Clearly I’m no expert on women’s fashion or anything, but bare with me here. She had thick, black eyeliner that made her eyes look bigger and pop with color, her hair was straightened more perfectly than I’d ever seen a girl’s hair before with what I guess you’d call bangs or something hanging off the front, and then it was tucked into this big, curly ponytail. As eloquent and masterful as my descriptions were, I can’t really do her justice in words, just run with the point: she looked absolutely beautiful.

I guess I’d been absently staring at her for a while there, because she laughed and I snapped back to reality.

“Sorry we didn’t end up doing the limo thing.” I said. She shrugged.

“I didn’t really need all the flashy extra stuff anyway. As long as we get there.”

“I mean, the RichieMobile beats one of our parents’ minivans or something, huh?”

She laughed, and I was reminded a little more of how cute she was. Before that night I had kinda forgotten I was physically attracted to her.

“Richie,” she said softly. “Just so you know, I’m glad we get to do this.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, there’s a good chance we might not ever see each other again after graduation in two weeks. After everything that’s happened between us and how weird it’s been, I’m happy we didn’t have to end off knowing each other with that. I’m happy we get to have fun one last time.”

“The past is the past,” I said with a shrug. “The right now is all we can count on.”

 

This particular time parking was the most tedious time I’d ever had with it. We spent about ten minutes either stuck behind limos or buses or contending with them for space. By the time we’d finally found a spot and gotten out of our cars, it felt like the prom had already begun and was in full force.

Our resident ambassador of Satan, vice principal Strauss, stopped every student at the entrance, alongside two goons twice his size that looked more like bouncers at a nightclub than they did any sort of member of a school staff.

“If it isn’t Harris,” he greeted me, in an obnoxiously condescending tone of voice. “Should we keep a lookout for your two troublemaking sidekicks?”

“One of them’s not coming and the other, I have no idea,” I answered. “Looks like that’s two less kids to stop from having fun, so you caught a little bit of a break.”

He held up a police-grade breathalyzer. “You’re gonna have to breathe into this before you two go in.”

CJ and I complied, as the aforementioned goons patted me down like they thought I was about to kill the president of the US or something.

“Well whaddya know?” Strauss sighed, looking at the device in his hands. “Looks like these two aren’t wasted yet.”

“Yet?” I repeated.

CJ raised a brow at the two large men. “You gonna pat me down too?”

 

The country club, or whatever it was our school had repurposed for tonight, was much nicer than I ever expected. It had those fancy, looming doorways, statues of naked people covered in sheets and gargantuan chandeliers. I felt like I was at a millionaire couple’s wedding or something. Already, what seemed like thousands of other seniors had populated the area, familiar faces looking nicer and more fancily dressed than I had ever seen them. As CJ and I approached the dance floor, it was like a fast-forwarded slideshow of everyone in my grade I’d met in the last four years.

“Hey, Richie!”

“Yo, Rich!”

“CJ, what’s up?”

“Aye guys!”

“CJ, you look nice!”

“Rich, CJ, it’s been forever!”

So many faces, so many greetings. You don’t realize how many people you actually know until they’re all gathered in one place, running into you one by one. I was taken back; for a long time then I had been feeling so alone, like no one outside of my small circle would even notice if I disappeared. Each of these faces I’d taken for granted were suddenly making themselves known, making me reevaluate those feelings I’d gotten so used to. Friends of friends, former lab partners or gym partners, people I sat next to in math class; sure, not each and every person who knows your name and says hi to you shares a meaningful connection, but if you’re enough of a presence in someone’s life that they remember your name and face over months and years and continue to greet you without hesitation, that has to mean something right?

 

“Everyone looks so nice,” CJ thought aloud. “I’m gonna miss them like crazy.”

“Let’s not think about missing anyone,” I replied, growing sick of melancholy notions like that. “Let’s just enjoy the night.”

“I’m down for that,” she smiled at me in a way that made me briefly shrink back into my Junior year self. “Are you still so bad at dancing?”

I sheepishly averted my eyes, trying to remember when she even learned that. A bouncy, upbeat pop song flooded the room as the lights began dimming.

“Come on,” she laughed, grabbing my hand. “Let’s find out.

I don’t know what I was expecting, or why I was surprised, or why I even came to this thing in the first place if there were other possibilities aside from this one; I’m not sure why it felt so strange and out of place, but CJ and I began having fun. And a lot of it. Dancing till we were hard of breath, during which I was surely embarrassing myself, telling jokes and making each other laugh, waiting in line for prom snacks and ice cream and catching up on the recent crazy stories in each other’s lives. I couldn’t tell you who this girl was, but it vaguely felt like I had known her for a long time.

A small bunch of her girlfriends, whose individual names I didn’t know offhand but whose faces I recognized, came out of nowhere as we sat in the hall outside the dance floor, finishing up the ice cream we’d gotten. They were each in equally flashy, differently colored dresses with a varied array of hairstyles that made them look like pages of some type of catalogue. They greeted each other with a series of incomprehensible high-pitched screams and formed a group hug. I guess that’s what girls do when they see their friends at big events, especially when they may never go to a big event with said friend again. They all began catching up, chatting and laughing as if they’d forgotten I was there.

I shrugged. “I’mma get some punch or something, BRB.”

CJ nodded and patted my arm, as if I were a little kid or something. I made my way back to the dance floor, briefly clearing my head. I was struck again by the visual of all my school acquaintances gathered and dancing with each other. It was kind of majestic looking; everyone had a date or a group of friends, they were all dancing or sitting together, as if everyone comfortably belong somewhere. All except one, I noticed. In the middle of the calamity, there was one lone individual sifting through the sea of kids. Through the darkness and disco lights I could see it was Steve McLeary, awkwardly stumbling between socializing groups like a lost puppy, rocking a suit that screamed ‘Picked out by my mom’ and clutching his inhaler up to his face for dear life. Jesus, I thought. How does this kid survive?

Little Steve eventually stumbled his way over to the punch bowl beside me.

“Oh, hey Richie.” he said, straightening his glasses. Time to work my magic again.

“Yo, Steve,” I greeted, trying to make him feel cool. “Where’s your date?”

The most rhetorical of rhetorical questions throughout human history.

“I came alone.” he answered almost ashamedly. I slapped his shoulder encouragingly.

“It’s not who you come with, man, it’s who you leave with!”

He looked around and did a quick scan of all the girls in our vicinity, then looked back at me as if I’d proposed the impossible.

“I don’t even know most of these girls,” he began. “I can’t just start talking to them-”

“Yeah, you can. It’s a dance, dude, that’s what you do.”

“What do I say?”

“Just walk up to one and be…” yourself? Screw that. “Confident.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, work with me.”

I looked around in search of the girl who seemed like the best balance of somewhat cute and nerdy with a likelihood of poor social skills. I landed on some girl I think I had math class with at some point, a slightly chubby, bespectacled redhead in a sparkly purple dress. She was there with her friends, who all had dates, and she stood there looking sad and lonely while they paired off with their respective guys. Perfect. Well, perfect-ish.

“See that chick over there?” I motioned to her as discreetly as I could.

“Where?” Steve said with a huge, noticeable turn of his whole body.

“Don’t stare, genius,” I instructed. “The one with the red hair.”

“Oh, her… She’s really cute.”

“Yeah, she is. Go say something to her.”

“Huh? Like what?”

“I dunno, ask if she wants to dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

“I’m willing to bet money she can’t either. Just ask.”

“What if she says no?”

“You’re gonna let that possibility stop you? You can’t be afraid of things like this, you gotta stand up and make your moves. This is life, you can’t just back down when you’re scared.”

I had no idea where my sudden motivational speech was coming from, but it seemed to be working. He nodded and tried to stop nervously shaking.

“Be brave, man,” I pleaded. “Eye of the tiger.”

“You’re right!”

He took a deep breath and faced her. After a moment of collecting himself, he took a step forward.

“Yo,” I called, stopping him by grabbing his shoulder. “Put your inhaler away first.”

“Right.” he said, slipping it into his pocket. And like that he was off. I’d either given him the self confidence he needed or destroyed any chance of him having it, depending on this girl’s response. Ah well, fingers crossed.

It was perfect timing, though, as the night’s first slow song came on. Every couple around me immediately started cuddling up and slow dancing. Even the single people somehow paired off with the nearest opposite-gendered person and joined in until I was the only one standing there alone.

“There you are,” CJ’s voice surprised me from behind. “Come on, you dork. Dance with me.”

I took her by the hand and drew her close and began to follow the steps Uncle T had taught me. One hand holding hers, other hand on her hip, step, step, turn, step. So far, so good. I was actually getting the hang of it.

The moving strobe lights wandered in and out of her eyes as they looked deeply into mine. Then, she rested her head on my shoulder. I couldn’t help thinking how my younger self would’ve reacted in this moment. A year and some change ago, the opportunity to hold her close like this under dim lights as we danced was all I could ever want. It was almost as if I should have checked some box on an imaginary list of goals and achievements or something, but for whatever reason, holding her there didn’t feel like I’d accomplished anything. The only feeling I could get from it was one of surprise, as I remembered how myself from a few months ago would’ve done everything in his power to never see this girl again. As myselves from the past argued, I couldn’t tell at all what the myself of the present right there and then thought of this.

She raised her head from my shoulder and looked me in the eyes again, with a smile that quickly gave way to a laugh.

“What are we doing?” she giggled in disbelief.

“Dancing?” I replied.

“I mean what are we doing here? Can you believe we did this? I mean, did you ever expect us to end up here after everything that’s happened?”

“No. But that kinda makes it special, right?”

“If only all our memories were like this.”

“I’ll take them as they are. Sure, a lot of my time knowing you has sucked, but without those memories I wouldn’t be who I am right now.”

“Well damn, I’m not sure how to feel about that. Thanks?”

“No, thank you.”

Her smile faded, and her face was overtaken by a look of concern. Her eyes grew vulnerable and her voice softened.

“Do me a favor, Richie?” she spoke.

“What?” I asked, taken off guard by her sudden change in demeanor.

“No matter what happens, wherever you end up in life, remember me like this. Right here, right now. Not any previous versions of me. Can you do that?”

Her smile returned, this time sincere and almost fearful. I didn’t know how to respond.

“CJ,” I uttered, choking on my words. “I-”

Killing the mood instantaneously, I was cut off by sudden shouting. It was a loud, teenage male voice, one that sounded familiar even as it was slurred out of shape by the intoxication of alcohol.

“Yo, Superboy!” he angrily bellowed over the music. My heart nearly stopped at the mention of that word, not to mention the fact that it was being called out by some screaming guy. Every dancing couple around us froze in unison, splitting up to see what was going on. I was in no way prepared to see Travis Alvarez, in a cheap, green tux, forcibly stumbling through crowds to our direction, one hand holding a big cup of spiked punch and the other waving around as if grasping at the air for balance. I didn’t even know he had come to the prom. I didn’t know what to say or do, or how to react at all actually.

“You heard me!” he yelled as he approached, briefly shifting his glare to CJ. “Does she call you that too?”

A low blow right off the bat, huh? CJ quickly backed up behind my arm. Travis’ voice was so venomous, so full of malice, so different than I’d ever heard it before.

“Trav,” I uttered in shock. “You’re drunk?”

“I’m enjoying myself just like you,” he defended. “You always think you’re so better than me…”

“What do you want with us?” CJ called out sternly, from behind my shoulder.

“I didn’t believe it was true,” he responded. “I heard you two showed up here together but I didn’t wanna believe you’d stab me in the back like that.”

“Stab you in the back?” I repeated, still trying to process what was going on.

“You’re the one who told her to leave me,” he went on. “You said it was to save my feelings, but I knew you were lying cuz you wanted her for yourself.”

“Travis, that’s not what happened.”

“Shut up! I don’t wanna listen to anything you have to say!”

I suddenly realized how quiet the room had gotten. The music had stopped, along with the chatter of everyone around us, and I could immediately feel a thousand eyes on me. I tried not to acknowledge any of them.

“And you,” Travis loudly continued, this time focusing his attention and anguish toward CJ. “You lied to my face! I thought you cared about me, but you never did. And you told me you weren’t into him, but look at you now.”

CJ was stern and careful as she attempted to reason. “Travis, we didn’t plan this or anything.”

He remained adamant in his rage. “I don’t wanna hear it!”

All the alcohol had begun to break up his speech. The angrier he got, the more his words trailed off.

“I trusted you… Both of you… We were supposed to be family… And you do this to me?!”

“Travis,” I demanded, getting sick of being a spectacle. “You need to relax.”

“Don’t tell me what I needa do! How ’bout you try and make me?”

He took another step forward to us, CJ grasped my arm, and I could feel her hands tremble anxiously.

I yelled, as directly as I could, “Travis, stop.”

“What’s wrong?” he threateningly laughed. “I thought you were the tough guy, where’s all that now?”

He raised the cup of spiked punch to face-level, then dropped it. It fell to the floor, bouncing off the marble tiles and splashing red onto his green pant leg. He then curled his free hand into a tight fist.

“Hey, CJ,” he began. “Who does this remind you of?”

Then it happened. He cocked back his fist and swung it full force at my face. Of course, it was much slower and out of his control then he realized, given his current lack of general balance, but it still happened. Travis Alvarez, one of my two best friends throughout my entire highschool life swung his fist to hit me.

It all happened so fast; me pushing CJ back and dodging as his punch missed me and the rest of his body came tumbling afterward, then him struggling to stand back upright as the two huge men working for Strauss from before emerged from nowhere and grabbed him by the arms. He wrestled with them the best he could, kicking and flailing despite their strength. He struggled until they had wrestled him to the floor, from which they carried him all the way out of the dancefloor.

CJ and I met eyes, unable to find the words to exchange. Shortly afterward, Strauss came walking through with a microphone. From a distance, he looked at me and gave a demeaning shrug, as if to say ‘I told you so’, then raised the mic to his mouth and spoke through the soundsystem all throughout the dancefloor.

“Apologies for the disturbance, kids. It’s all taken care of now, please return to your regularly scheduled debauchery.”
The DJ suddenly cut back in with a hyped up dance song and the room erupted into commotion again. I glanced over to CJ, who was frantically fanning herself with her hands. She walked away in a hurry, and I followed her through the cracks between clusters of students, all the way through the door and into the lobby.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, trying not to break down. “I had no idea he was gonna do that!”

I sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “CJ…”

She still avoided looking to me. “I guess drama just follows me around no matter what.”

“Hey,” I tried, stepping into her line of sight. “That wasn’t your fault. You’re not responsible for what he does, and either way we both decided to do this.”

Still struggling to pull herself together, she managed a smile at me. Before I could say anything else, the door opened next to us and CJ’s brigade of girlfriends came swarming out after her. I can’t get a second, can I?

As they all asked if she was okay and begun the cycle of questions, I decided to let them have their space, taking a step aside and looking through the glass window in the door, back to the dance floor. I couldn’t make out much through the glass, between the strobelite flashes, but it somehow felt like a complete enough picture. I thought about everyone saying prom was some magical moment in every kid’s life that would give them everlasting memories. Now we were here; I wondered if anyone in that big room was having that moment, if they were living through a moment they would keep and come back to for the rest of their lives. Just then, I noticed Steve McLeary and that random redheaded chick dancing. Spastic and uncoordinated as they were, the two of them were having the time of their lives.

“Richie,” CJ began with a hand on my arm, her friends still a couple feet behind her. “Jenny Allen rented out this huge hotel and has even more space since Theo and Viola didn’t show up. I dunno if you had any other plan for tonight but we’re invited.”

“No other plans,” I said with a shrug. “That’s cool with me.”

“Great!”

Her bubbly smile was back. I guess I’m doing this prom house thing after all. I wondered about the sleeping situation, how exactly the beds and couches were to be divided up, but I figured the midst of the dance wasn’t the best time to ask.

 

 

“That girl’s parents will pay for anything.” CJ commented as we climbed out of my car and made our way out of the hotel’s enormous parking lot, guided by the streetlights and the flashlight feature on my phone. At the beginning of the night, CJ wore her outfit and demeanor with elegance and grace, but now it seemed like fatigue and frustration as she let her down freely and held up her dress as she walked.

“Your squad here yet?” I asked. She motioned forward, to a passing collective of what looked like half our school making their way up to the hotel too.

By the time we got to the floor Ms. Allen had rented out, CJ was now barefoot, having opted to carry her shoes as she walked. We opened the first door to a room full of seven or eight of the most popular guys and girls in our school gathered around a couch watching a movie. I was kind of surprised by how casual it was; I’d never imagined seniors spending the hours after prom just hanging out. I wasn’t cool enough to know for sure, but I spent my whole high school life with the assumption that something life changing was supposed to be happening here.

After a quick hello to everyone in there, we made our way to the next door in the hall. I realized that most of these doors had these little cardboard poster things on them, symbols of clubs or groups in the school, probably indicating to the kids what rooms were theirs. There was one with a little football on it, presumably for the football team, one had a colorful megaphone thing, assumedly the room for cheerleaders. We walked past each one till we saw one with no apparent claim.

This room had Jenny Allen and an even bigger assemblage of CJ’s girlfriends, sprawled all around the couches, bed and floor laughing and talking about whatever girls do.

“Hey, CJ,” Jenny called out happily, and a bit tipsily. “Richie, whaddup?”

She memorized my name at least.

“Hey girl,” CJ replied, ignoring her friend’s alcohol-induced high energy level. “We got a little lost trying to find you.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Had to rent enough rooms to fit everybody!”

I wasn’t sure who Jenny’s ‘everybody’ exactly accounted for, but her generosity was appreciated.

“Do you have that room we talked about?” CJ asked, in a vaguely suspicious tone of voice.

“Ooh,” Jenny gasped, as if remembering some secret. “Yeah, the second door on that other side of the hall behind us.”

She pointed backward, through the wall.

“An empty room just for you too, if you wanna go get yourselves situated.”

Empty room? Us two?

“Awesome,” CJ replied, dropping her heels carelessly onto the carpet. “C’mon, Richie.”

Come on? Just the two of us? Empty hotel room?

It was then I noticed Jenny Allen’s party room only had one bed, and that all the room’s on this floor probably followed suit.

Time out, what’s in the world is goi-

CJ grabbed my arm before I could say anything and lead me out of the room. We followed Jenny’s directions, rounding the corners to the adjacent hall.

“Woah, hold up,” I tried as she pulled me along. “We have a single room with one bed?”

“Duh,” she laughed back. “That’s how prom houses work. You share the room with your date usually, unless you wanted to go back and spend the night with Jenny and all those hot girls?”

“No, that’s not what I meant… It’s just-”

“It’s okay, Richie. Could you just be a little less awkward for me?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t really say anything else until we were standing in front of our door.

“You ready to go in?” CJ asked with an eager smile.

“Uh, well,” I stammered, trying to process my current state of mind. “I guess.”

That’s definitely the level of confidence she wanted to hear, no doubt.

“Great,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I’ll see you later then.”

She turned to leave. I reflexively shot out my hand and grabbed her shoulder to stop her.

“Wait, what?” I uttered.

“Emily’s gonna give me a ride home.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Uh, yeah. Emily’s waiting.”

My great confusion was only intensified by her calmness about it, and the fact she didn’t seem to understand my reaction. Was all the apparent progress her and I had made just leading up to this, another one of her mind games?

“What are you talking about,” I snapped. “If you were just gonna leave what was the point of us even coming here?”

Her bubbly smile disappeared as she removed my hand from her shoulders. “For you to go into that room.”

Now my frustration had migrated back to confusion. She must have noticed and gotten a little sympathetic.

“I’ve done a lot of messed up things to you,” she began, her voice soft and vulnerable, her eyes avoiding mine. “I know I can’t make it right, but I can at least do something good instead, right?”

“CJ, what are you talking about?” I asked, trying to make sense of words that were seemingly coming from nowhere.

“This is it,” she answered, no less esoterically. “My doing something nice for you. Or at least something you were too stubborn to do for yourself.”

“Huh?”

“For God’s sake, just go through that door.”

She raised a hand to my face, gently caressing the side of my cheek.

“Thank you for an amazing night.”

And with that, she smiled and hurried off around the corner.

I meant to think this, but I felt it so strongly that my mouth automatically joined in, “I swear I don’t think I’ll ever understand that girl.”

I sighed, contemplating my situation. I was now alone again, dateless, and surrounded by my popular peers, half of which were a little lifted and on their way to bed, none of whom I really had any burning desire to kick it with anyway. In keeping with the mentality that spearheaded this entire night, I thought to myself: Screw it.

With no further thought or consideration, I grabbed the knob of the door CJ had mysteriously led me to and swung it open. As it was being thrust, it was almost like time slowed down for me to notice a few things. Namely, the little logo on this door I’d previously ignored was in fact a small, cardboard rainbow. From my peripheral I saw there were rainbows on the next few doors down the hall. By the time this registered in my brain, however, the door was already halfway open, carrying on at an irredeemable speed. Time snapped back into gear and it opened all the way. I froze.

I didn’t know what to say as I saw you there, sitting alone on the bed. You had your headphones on, and your attention was focused on a book in your lap. You caught the door opening from the corner of your eye and straightened your glasses as you looked up, pushing your now-shortened orange hair out of your view. Then you saw me and you froze too.

And we remained there, frozen for a while.

You were the first to do anything as you took your headphones out of your ears, then continued looking at me as if you were waiting to hear some explanation. I hit the eject button on my mind to say something, anything, and all that came out was,

“Carrie…” I stammered and tried to regain control of my head. “No, wait, I mean-”

“Hi.” You said, softly, as if it were all you could say. I hung my head, wishing I had something better, but all I could do was return it.

“Hi.”