Twenty-five
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I plopped onto my bed, the lace of my crimson dress dancing as I fell backward. My fingers twisted the fabric as I stroked the silk lying at my sides. The fresh aroma of vanilla tinged the air with its soft notes of cherry, accompanying the smell.
Unlike Homecoming, my Prom dress was a sleek mermaid-style gown that fell to the floor with a sweeping train that trailed behind me.
A soft smile grazed my lips as I peered up at the ceiling.
It took four stores at the Summerville Mall and an empty wallet, but I finally found the perfect dress. I was ready.
Sitting upright, I pushed myself off the mattress. My black strappy heels dug into the fuzzy carpet as I approached the mirror. I inhaled deeply, staring at my reflection. My eyes darted toward my vanity, where the Polaroid of Jessie stared back at me.
Tonight was the night .
The chime of the doorbell was muffled through the walls, yet still so loud.
Maybe it was because I was waiting for it.
I dashed down the hall, nearly tripping over my long train as I galloped down the stairs.
Clawing at the doorknob, I yanked it open, a cool breeze welcoming me as Elliot’s gaze met mine. My breathing hitched.
Wow.
Elliot was resting his arm against the door frame with a deep red blazer jacket thrown neatly over his shoulder.
A black dress shirt was tucked into his slacks.
Don’t even get me started on his hair. It looked slicked back with a small amount of gel, but not even that could stop a single strand from falling in front of his forehead.
“Abercrombie, indeed,” I hummed.
“And my Princess,” he whispered, pulling me toward him. “You look absolutely stunning.”
“And you look like you walked off the cover of a magazine.”
“I know.”
I grinned, a smug look spilling onto my face. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“The model thing,” I said with an upward tilt of my chin. “That pose.”
“Maybe I was a model in another life.”
I chuckled quietly, waving him inside. As soon as his foot made contact with the tile, Cleo dashed over to him, purring loudly as she nuzzled her head against his leg.
Elliot nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked down at her, terror laced in his eyes.
A smirk replaced my smile. Throwing one arm over the other, I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“So, you are afraid of cats.”
Before he could reply, my parents approached with wide grins. I grimaced, preparing for the worst.
“You guys look fire!”
“Dad,” I groaned.
“Oh, let me get my phone! I need a picture,” my mom said as she flailed her arms and ran over to her purse.
“ Mom ,” I muttered while sagging my shoulders. “Please, no.”
Elliot put his hands gently on my hips and shuffled me toward the staircase.
“Oh, come on, Clarke. Live a little. Besides, I look too good to miss an opportunity like this.”
My nostrils flared as I narrowed my eyes in his direction. As we stood in front of the staircase, a few inches apart, my body was as rigid as a statue. My mother gestured for us to smile as she held her phone at eye level, my dad peering over her shoulder, trying to assist.
“Is the flash on?” My mom tapped at the screen incessantly. “Christopher, how do you work this thing?”
My shoulders hunched as I bowed my head, shaking it slightly. I let out a measured breath through my nose.
“Jesus Christ, this is going to take forever,” I whispered under my breath.
Elliot brought his lips close to my ear. “If you click those sparkly heels of yours together three times, do you think we can teleport out of here?”
I couldn’t help but snort as I looked up at Elliot, who seemed pretty proud of his lame joke. Straightening my posture, I shot a quick glance at my parents. Thankfully, due to their technological ignorance, their eyes were still firmly glued to the phone.
“You’re the one who got us into this mess.”
Faster than he could answer, Cleo darted toward Elliot once again, swatting his jacket with her paw.
Elliot leapt into the air, pushing himself closer to me until there was no space between us.
He let out a barely audible yelp as he wrapped his arms around my waist, clinging to me for dear life.
Cleo slinked away, looking satisfied with her actions.
That was all it took to propel the laughter from my throat, and soon Eliot was howling alongside me.
Then, a bright flash illuminated my peripheral.
“Oh, look at how cute you two are!” My mother cooed while cradling her phone like a newborn baby. “Do you want to see it? Maybe we should take another.”
“No!” I pushed Elliot to the side, forcing him in the direction of the door. He almost tripped as I rushed us out of the house. “Uhh—I mean…we’re gonna be late. We should go.”
My mom called after us. “You can hate me all you want, but just know that I only do it because I love you!”
“I know, I know. Love you guys, too.”
“Drive safe!” she yelled.
“And use protection!”
I looked back at my dad in horror. “Dad!”
“Sorry,” he mumbled while raising his hands in defeat.
Before they closed the door, the last thing I saw was my mother angrily shaking her fist as she dragged my father into the house. My cheeks were stained pink as
Elliot’s chuckles only grew louder.
My heart pounded harder than the bass rattling my eardrums, my chest humming with the rhythm as we stepped into the Summerville Banquet Hall.
Tonight would change everything .
My fingers were laced in Elliot’s.
The music heightened as we breached the main doors, my head spinning as the ground beneath my feet thumped.
You know the room where Beauty and the Beast danced together in a grand castle?
Picture that . Coffered ceilings anchored several light fixtures in their place, the chandeliers, bathing us in a golden hue.
Smiles were thrown around as groups of students clustered into the banquet hall, their voices theatrical and joyful.
Circular tables lined the dance floor with ceramic dishes that sat neatly stacked on each placemat.
I knew the formal dinner setup by heart—one of the many perks of attending every single one of my mother’s book launches.
At the center was a service plate, topped with a soup bowl and a salad plate.
To the left: a dinner fork and a salad fork.
To the right: a salad knife and a meat knife.
I set my purse down on one of the five empty chairs.
“You’re here!” Kendra squealed.
Spinning around, I dropped Elliot’s hand and wrapped her in my arms. She squeezed me as we teetered side to side. I clenched my eyes shut as I hugged her tightly. It was another voice that tore me from her embrace.
“There’s the future Miss Prom Queen,” Andrew called. “You look good.”
My jaw fell to the floor when I saw Andrew approach us.
Flecks of purple shimmered against the light, his reflective suit sparkling brightly. Holy crap . He sashayed toward us, his plum manicured nails resting on his hip.
“You look better,” I countered.
His lip curled upward. “Don’t try and flatter me. I already voted for you.”
I shoved his shoulder as I let out a small laugh, leaning my arm on the back of the chair next to me. Elliot squinted; his eyes expressive, but his words mute.
I watched as he examined Andrew quietly. My eyebrows cocked.
Andrew flicked his eyes to the ceiling, then shifted his attention toward Elliot while flaring his nostrils.
“ Yes ?”
“It’s just…that suit…”
“Don’t flirt with me in front of your girlfriend, Ellie.”
“I was gonna say you look like a glitter bomb exploded on you.”
Andrew snarled, pouting as he plopped into his seat. Our laughter mixed together as we all crowded around the table, joining him. Just then, slowly approaching from the side, Dani walked over, eyeing us skeptically. She paused, her gaze scanning each of our faces.
“Hey, guys,” she said with narrowed eyes. “What’d I miss?”
That fueled our laughter even more.
Our conversation drifted as we spoke of final exams, the books I gave them, video games, graduation, and, oddly enough, we somehow also landed on which type of potato was best. Fries, wedges, hash browns, chips…
there were so many. The only right answer was French fries, of course.
The casual conversation tugged at the strings of my heart as a memory flickered through my mind.
As if on an old film projector, the picture in my head was distorted and fuzzy, but I could still see it — Elliot, Andrew, and Dani cackling in the lunchroom while I stuffed my mouth with lettuce and ate my feelings.
Everything had changed . I pushed those thoughts aside as I excused myself, walking to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I clutched the sides of the sink, eyeing my reflection.
It was an odd sensation, the way my skin tingled, and my chest tightened.
It felt similar to a hug, yet far too constricting.
Prom was everything I had been looking forward to, but I was also dreading it.
“You eye fucking yourself or something?”
I spun around, just as Meredith strutted over, her maroon dress almost a carbon copy of mine.
Because why wouldn’t we almost wear the same outfit?
Forcing me aside with her presence, she took my place at the mirror, swiping at her lower lip to rid herself of the red smudge that her gloss had made.
I huffed, my shoulders deflating as I glared at her.
“You don’t always have to be mean, ya know. You could probably make some real friends if you just — ”
“You don’t know me, Clarke.”