“What’s with Sasha’s dress?” Jamie whispers in my ear. I glance to the side where she and Alex are posing for a picture. The girls all got ready at my house, and all the parents came to take photos of them picking us up. The parents are misty-eyed; we’re excited and trying to be cynical. It isn’t cool to think prom is a big deal.
“It’s an old wedding dress,” I tell him. The dress, while a cool idea in theory, is not as great as we thought it would be. She looks pretty, but also like she is going to a Halloween party. Sasha thinks she looks terrific, and I haven’t told her otherwise. Angie looks amazing, and we’ve all told her so, in a sort of awe. With her supple pregnancy encased in blue and her blond hair curled in to soft ringlets, she looks like a Renaissance painting of the Madonna. Dave has not taken his eyes or his hands off her.
“I like your dress,” Jamie says. “Do I look pretty?”
“Of course you do.”
“Smile!” my mother says. We grin and press cheek to cheek.
“Can we go yet?” Brooke calls out. She’s wearing the sarcastic pink that I had tried to explain to my mother, with a flared short skirt and black lace gloves. Her hair is in a bun like a ballerina. Noah is wearing a matching pink tux with a black shirt and tie.
In his tuxedo, Jamie is handsome like a playboy from the 1950s; he looks suave and sharp, and if I had just met him, I wouldn’t trust him not to break my heart.
“One more picture with everybody together,” Sasha’s mother says. We press together and wrap our arms around each other’s waists.
“Ow,” Brooke says. “You stepped on my toe.” “Smile!” my mother says.
***
We don’t have a limo. Kids who rent limos are pretentious and are taking prom way too seriously. I ride in the passenger seat of Jamie’s car with Sasha and Alex in the back. We park in the back of the hotel and weave between limos and girls with dresses big enough to house families until we meet up with the others by the doors.
“Hey,” Noah says, “I think there’s food inside.” “Of course there’s food,” Sasha says.
“What kind of food?” Alex says.
“It said in the invitations there would be a buffet,” I say. “I am so hungry,” Angie says.
“Of course you are,” Dave says.
“Oh, be quiet.” He kisses her with his hands on her hips and I look away. “Where’s your tiara?” Sylvie says. We all turn and look at her. She and Finny are standing by us. In the distance, I see Alexis and Victoria getting
out of a limo.
“Tiaras are for every day,” I say. “This is a special night.”
“Oh,” she says. The boys snicker. Finny glances at them and tugs on her hand.
“Let’s go in,” he says.
“See you inside,” I say. Finny nods and they stroll away.
“Well, since this is a special night, we should go eat some of that special food,” Alex says.
“There’s magic in the air. I can feel it,” Jamie says.
“Shut up, guys,” I say. “She thought you were laughing at her.” “That’s not our problem,” Sasha says.
“For the record, we were definitely laughing at you,” Noah says.
“Even I thought it was funny,” Preppy Dave says. Everyone laughs and we follow the crowd inside. There are silver stars hanging from the ceiling, and blue and white glitter on the tables.
We eat cheese cubes and make fun of most of the music. The boys take off their jackets and throw them over their chairs. We slow dance and change partners. I dance with Noah and Alex; Dave will not leave Angie’s side.
I see Finny twice, once as Jamie and I sway to a love song, and again when he and Sylvie are crowned King and Queen. His face is as red as an apple, and I laugh as I clap for him, and our eyes meet briefly. Then he is gone again, and the night moves on.
At the last slow song, I am hot and tired, and Jamie and I move together with our hips and cheeks pressed together. I lean my weight against him, just a little, and he holds me.
“I love you,” I say, and in that moment, it feels like a revelation. I wish I could explain to him that I really mean it right now. His fingers press into my back.
“I will never hurt you,” he says, and he lets me press closer. It was one of our best moments.
