Back then 18 years old
RACHEL
Whenever I dreamed about my senior prom, I always saw it unfolding in one long, this-is-unrealistic-but-it-can-totally-happen, type of scene.
It starts with me stepping into a brightly lit ballroom with a gorgeous tuxedoed guy at my side—the type of guy who is capable of making every girl jealous.
While everyone stares at us in utter awe, he kisses me like his life depends on it.
Within mere seconds, all of the attention in the room is owned by us.
Seizing the moment, we take to the dance floor and earn a rousing round of applause when he dips me low and brings me up for one final, breathtaking spin.
And for the rest of the night (and the first time in my high school career), I’m not invisible. I’m more than ‘that girl who lives next door to Ethan.’ More than a nobody.
At the end of this dream, my date always helps me into his sleek black car and drives me to The Blue Lake Café, where we dance one final time under the twinkling lights.
Right when I least expect it, he kisses the hell out of me and leaves me utterly breathless.
(In the exact way that my mom always said a ‘perfect prom kiss’ should be.) And the moment my perfect date drops me off at home, I throw my amazing night in Ethan’s face, since I know his sense of a ‘date’ will never compare.
Welp. So much for that fucking dream…
At the rate that my reality was going tonight, I was slowly accepting that my dream of an ideal prom was too far-fetched. “Make-up” prom or not, I was starting to wish that ‘someone’ had never pulled the fire alarm at the previous prom, that I’d stayed at home.
“You’re still standing on the wall?” Ashley Chambers, one of the popular minions, stepped in front of me with a smirk on her lips.
“I mean, it’s been over an hour at this point.
I just can’t believe that no guy here has asked to dance with you…
” She looked me up and down. “It’s almost like your pretty red dress isn’t enough to hide the fact that you’re still one of the biggest losers at this school. How sad.”
“Is it?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Because I think the fact that your date has no idea that you’ve slept with half the football team is far sadder.”
She sucked in a deep breath, as her jaw dropped to the floor.
“Something wrong, babe?” Her date grabbed her waist from behind, and then his eyes met mine.
“Well, hello…” He let her go and extended his hand to me. “I’m Tyler.”
“And she’s nobody.” Ashley swatted his hand and shot a look at me. “That’s why she’s here alone.” She led him away, and he glanced over his shoulder, looking me up and down one last time.
Sighing, I stepped away from the wall and made my way toward the long table of ice sculptures and drinks on the far wall. For whatever reason, the senior class had voted to have all of the ice sculptures carved into the shapes of old school cars and record players.
“I think this was a cool idea,” I said to the attendant, my former history classmate who was wearing a pretty pink dress. “Don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes and stamped my wristband, motioning for me to get away from her.
As I approached the punch bowl and picked up a cup, the group of girls who were in line ahead of me set down their drinks and walked away. Seconds later, the other students walked away as well, leaving me alone. Freezing me out all over again.
I couldn’t get a single person here to talk to me, and even though I never really fit in, I’d honestly never felt like a pariah.
Refusing to let anyone see that they were getting the best of me, I tossed back a few cups of punch.
I started to make my way to the dance floor, but with every step forward I took, a few couples stepped back and off of the floor.
A part of me wanted to believe that this was all in my head, but by the time I was under the glittering banner that hung at the midway point, most of the couples were making their way off the floor.
What did I do?
I took a few steps back, and as they all stared at me with their angry faces, I gave the hell up. I rushed off the dance floor and into the hotel’s hallway. Ducking into the closest bathroom, I swallowed the rising lump in my throat and let the tears roll down my face.
I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to be treated like this. Especially, when nothing had happened this week at school. Some of the same people who’d always given me a stock, “Hey,” or “Hello,” in the hallways, were refusing to make eye contact with me tonight.
Slowly twirling in front of the mirror, I tried to see if there was a stain I’d missed. That, or some type of ‘Forget Rachel ever existed tonight’ sign that’d been secretly taped onto my back, but there was nothing. The only new things on me were the tears.
My dreamy red dress was being wasted on a nightmare, and I was certain that the moment I got home, I would be stuffing it into a bag to give away to someone else.
The door suddenly opened, and one of my art classmates stepped inside. She took one long look at me and rolled her eyes, then she walked out without a single word.
What the…
I walked over to the door and opened it, prepared to yell after her. I wanted to ask what was behind all the hatred toward me, but she was long gone.
Far ahead, in the ballroom, I could see everyone cheering and clapping. It only took me a few seconds to realize why.
Mr. Popular, a.k.a. Ethan Wyatt, was walking through the entry doors with Shelby on his arm. He parted through his adoring minions like a God, and I rolled my eyes.
Still, I forced myself to walk back into the room to get a better look at him.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he looked sexy as hell tonight.
I wasn’t sure if it was the way the black suit perfectly fit his muscles, the way the soft lights were hitting his bright blue eyes, or the way he was smiling his perfect set of pearly whites, but he looked way hotter than usual.
(Well, “hot” for the first time to me. He was still ‘just Ethan’ in my book.)
Shelby’s eyes met mine, and she immediately turned away from me.
I knew it was only a matter of time before Ethan did the same, so I sucked up what was left of my dignity and headed to the elevator bank.
The doors glided open, and I stepped onto the car.
Just as they were beginning to shut, an arm slipped between them to force them apart.
“Where the hell are you going?” Ethan stepped inside, smiling. “I’m not sure if the guy who pulled the fire alarm would appreciate you bailing on round two of our prom.”
“I’m going home, Ethan.” I hit the ‘door close’ button, and the elevator began to move toward the lobby. “The place where people don’t treat me like a pariah or ignore me for no reason.”
“What?” He hit the emergency stop button, bringing the car to a halt. “That’s what you think is happening in there?”
“That’s exactly what’s happening, Ethan.” I rolled my eyes. “You should probably go back to the party and stop talking to me. Otherwise, I’m sure they’ll start treating you like a pariah, too.”
“I highly doubt that.” He smiled. “No one can treat Mr. Popular like a pariah. That’s one of the main benefits of being me.”
“Thank you for reminding me exactly why I hate you.”
“You’re welcome.” He laughed and dabbed my eyes with his handkerchief. “I think you’re reading this night in the wrong way, Rachel. Like, I can guarantee you that—”
“Can you please just let me go home and be alone?” I felt my voice cracking. “Like, I know you’re trying to pretend like you’re my friend right now, but I’d honestly prefer if you treated me like your enemy. Like you usually do.”
Silence.
With his eyes on mine, I hit the button and the car began to move again.
“Fair enough.” He let out a sigh. “Since you’re leaving and don’t have a car, how are you planning to get home?”
“I’m going to call my Dad. Worst case, I’ll call Stella.”
“No, don’t bother,” he said. “Let me take you.”
“Ha! Like Shelby would ever be okay with you leaving her here.”
“Shelby is quite pissed at me right now, so I’m sure she’ll appreciate a break.” He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Want me to take you home, or not?”
“Absolutely.”
The ride in Ethan’s car was a blur, punctuated by him leaning over and wiping away my tears here or there as he drove.
Right when he was supposed to make a right on Fountain Avenue, toward our block, he made a left instead. He didn’t make a quick turn on any of the back routes, though. He just kept driving.
A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of The Blue Lake Café and rolled down the windows. He turned on his headlights, so they were shining against the dock of the pier, and then he turned on the song I always played whenever I’d twirled around my bedroom in this prom dress.
Walking over to my side, he opened my door and helped me out of the car.
“Alright,” he said. “Your dream about how your prom night is supposed to go is still the dumbest and most unbelievable shit I’ve ever heard, but I can help you with this part. I’ll take a few pictures if you want, before driving you home.”
“You didn’t have to stop here.” I smiled, not wanting to admit that I was happy he’d remembered my ridiculous fantasy. That my night wasn’t a complete bust. “Thank you, Ethan.”
“For what?”
“For this and the small things you do to help me not forget my mom anytime soon,” I said, feeling tears prick my eyes. “It shouldn’t mean anything coming from you, of course, but it kind of does.”
“It kind of does?”
“Yes, kind of.” I smiled. “I didn’t stutter. Anyway, what did Shelby get mad at you for this time?”
“Nothing major,” he said. “I was just too honest with her, that’s all.”
“How is being too honest a bad thing?”
“If it has anything to do with you…”
I shrugged. “What do you mean?”
A slow smile spread across his lips and he took a small step back.