Prom

For me, Prom would never be a night of romance, it would forever be a night of friendship. A week outside of the magical night I realized no one would ask me to Prom but it wasn't just me that did not get asked, none of the Patty girls did.

"Fuck them."

Yara was militant about the affront. Perhaps she had expected to be asked, perhaps she had been shocked that no one had. It was in KFC that the plan was hatched, we had ordered an eight-piece family meal and sat around the table devouring the salty skin from the meat.

"Fuck who?" Mercy was sucking on the bone marrow much to our disgust.

"All of them. All the guys," Yara said.

Her fingers were greasy and her wild blonde curls were piled on top of her head, the coils tight and bright framing her youthful face.

"I wish no one had asked me," Rosalind said.

Oh yes. Rosalind had been asked by Elli Hart, a sweet band geek who had loved her from afar for as long as we all knew. She had been so flustered that she had moaned a yes and then regretted it since that moment. She buried her redhead into her hands each time she was reminded that she had said yes to Elli Hart.

"You should have said no," I said.

"And break his little heart?" she asked.

I don't think I would have done any differently. Despite my newfound confidence, I had yet to be properly asked out. In retrospect, Alvin didn't count, what we had a 'hook up' and nothing else.

"Girls always feel they have to protect the guy's feelings." Mercy gave her an eye roll as she mercilessly sucked on her drumstick. "What about your discomfort?"

"Elli, unfortunately, doesn't count." Yara brought the subject back. "I say fuck 'em. We go as each other's dates. Patty Girl crew arrives and the beat drops."

Her words brought the first resemblance of hope to the entire event.

"I can rent a limo, dad sent me extra money this month," Mercy said.

"Yes!" Yara brightened.

"And you need to tell Elli the truth." Mercy pointed to Rosalind. "It's not fair to the little nugget and you're going to be miserable."

"Fine!" Rosalind slumped down on the plastic booth and let out a dramatic sigh.

I felt suddenly excited. This might work, all of us arriving looking amazing as Ricky Martin played in the background. I could see it happening. My mom would also love that idea far more than having to sit me down and explain to me the mysteries of sex as if I had not already been fondled by Alvin during 7th period.

This is how we ended up piling into Rosalind's house in a cacophony of dresses, makeup, and hair. All of our moms went to help, and it was a miracle of the virgin none of us ended up with curler burns. At this point we had no idea how to apply mascara, makeup had to be redone twice, hair went flat and had to be re-curled, and stockings were finally discarded as they ripped. I had never felt prettier in my entire life; my blue dress was sparkly and had a corset showing off the curves that my body seemed to have settled on.

Yara's older sister tamed my indecisive brown curls and smoothed them until they shined. She looked me over while I put on my earrings. "Becka is going to be the surprise swan of your class, mark my words."

I couldn't handle the compliment so I blushed and denied and turned the attention to Mercy who looked above and beyond. She wore a black gown and bright red lipstick, the dress clung to all her toned curves and she seemed grown-up and sophisticated. Like she belonged someplace like New York rather than Kissimmee. Even my mother had muttered an 'ay dios mio' when she saw her but I was sure it was not in a positive manner. Seven thousand photos later we got in the limo where ginger ale awaited us for a celebratory toast. It is incredible to me how we rejoice the end of childhood and then seek it for the rest of our adulthood.

I had two goals during Prom; one to dance the night away until blisters made us limp to the limo. Two; get a dance from Clem. Even if he had not asked me, even if I secretly wished he would have found the guts to do so, even if I resented him for his inability to be the guy I wished he'd be, I still cared for the idea of him. I just wanted a dance. I wanted to feel his arms around me, discover how he smelled.

International Drive was bright in action, neon lights and tourists poured into the streets, we were in the middle of May and the high season was swinging. As we pulled up to the massive hotel, we were convinced that tonight would be the best night of our lives. Tons of people had already arrived, and I remember thinking it looked like one of my regency romance novels when Elizabeth arrives at a party. I was Elizabeth, regal and fresh, determined to dance and laugh and perhaps gather Clem as a partner.

The music was nothing like regency England, but Spice Girls was a nice British substitute and it was blasting as we entered.

"If you wanna be my lover you gotta get with my friends."

"Patty Girls!" A random guy announced.

Yara shone with pride, this is exactly what she wanted, the attention and recognition. The music was blasting, people were dancing, and it became a sea of greeting people and gushing over dresses. A ball, is what I thought, I was at a ball, I was in a princess dress and I felt pretty. Everyone around me looked beautiful and handsome and we shone with the magic of adolescence.

"Look to your right!" Rosalind pointed and I turned and there my breath stopped. Clem looked so handsome in a black tux, collar already undone, wearing sunglasses and scooping out the room. His blond hair was mused to perfection and he didn't have a date. He was alone, I was alone. Like Darcy and Elizabeth, this night was meant to happen. I grasped Rosalind's arm tightly.

"You need to ask him, don't wait for him!" She squealed.

I glanced at her. "Do I have lipstick in my teeth?"

She studied my mouth and shook her head, her pretty red curls bouncing around her. She smiled at me and we hugged, her excitement for me filled me with bravery and I picked up my skirts and made my way to Clemente Cruz. I could just casually go say hello and greet the guys, I knew them all, and it would not be awkward. It wouldn't. A deep breath had me sashaying towards where they stood when Clem spotted me, he did the blink he always did when he saw me, then he looked away, sipping on his drink.

Tay spotted me and he elbowed Clem who returned with a terse nod. Tay looked me up and down with a slow smile on his handsome face.

"Look at you, Becky-girl." Tay kissed my cheek.

"You too, very handsome," I smiled and I felt my cheeks heat up as I was inspected.

A glance at Clem told me he continued to ignore everything about me.

"Yara came alone?" Tay's voice was tight and I wondered if he realized the weirdness of Clem refusing to look at me.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, because you didn't ask her."

Tay laughed, his dimples making him all the more charming. "We're not tying ourselves down to no one tonight."

"Not even a dance?" I raised my brows.

"Yeah, I'll dance with you," he came closer and I rolled my eyes at him.

That Ramirez charm did not work on me. He smiled and gave my cleavage a glance of appreciation. His gaze made me suddenly brave and I swathed myself in all of my Elizabeth Bennet glory.

"How about Clem, is he going to dance with me?"

Clem paused and slowly looked at me, he pushed his sunglasses up into his hair.

"Hi," I said.

His throat bobbed up and down. He walked to me and kissed my cheek.

"Hey," he said.

He smelled incredible and I tried not to look utterly pathetic. Clem's eyes searched my face and he opened his mouth to say something when Victor fucking Manning arrived, announcing it to the entire area with a loud 'FUCKING PROM, YEAH!'

Hands slapping, chests bumping, loud whistles, and cheers. Clem instantly pulled from me and turned to greet Victor along with the rest of his crew. I could've killed Victor as I was utterly forgotten by Clem and pushed aside for the guys to greet one another. I noticed that Helene was stuck on Victor and I remembered Mercy mentioning that they were now a couple. How she put up with this idiot, I didn't know.

She glanced at me and we smiled at one another. "You look so pretty, Becka, I love your dress."

I thanked her. She didn't look pretty, she looked sexy. Super sexy. Like a grown-up, like Mercy looked. Her dress was red and tight with a long slit that went up her leg showing off her well-formed thighs. Victor wore a matching bowtie and I wondered who had coordinated their outfits.

"And you look super-hot."

She laughed and touched her stomach self-consciously. "Thanks. Where are the girls?"

I gestured behind me. "Back there. I heard you got accepted to Dallas, congratulations!"

Her face lit up. "I know, I'm so nervous about leaving!"

"Ladies!" And then there was Victor, his arms draped over both of our shoulders and I instantly smelled liquor in his breath. Helene looked embarrassed and I tried to smile at her but couldn't with Victor so close to my face.

"Victor." Helene's voice was that of a warning and he glanced at her and then looked at me with a predatory grin he had never shared.

"Becka Montana, look at you. You're almost pretty."

I scowled, ready to shove him off me but he let go of Helene and took me in, his arm still draped over my shoulders.

"Are we going to be friends tonight?" He looked me up and down.

I shoved at his chest, but he didn't bulge, he was hard and unyielding.

"You haven't earned that," I sneered.

His cheeks tightened and I thought I would have to hit him when my hand was grabbed, and I was pulled from Victor's arms and into the arms of someone solid and strong.

Clem. Clemente Cruz, love of my life.

I swallowed my heart and it landed like a jelly in my stomach. Clem was looking at Victor, his jaw tight and sharp, his sunglasses back on his eyes.

"I'm dancing with her," Clem said.

Victor looked like he would hit him but then looked at me and I swear he looked pleased but quickly turned and grabbed Helene to stalk off.

Then Clem escorted me to the dance floor. The song wasn't even romantic or slow, it was a fast beat and Will Smith bid us all to dance. I took what I could as Clem let me go so that we could sway and dip and before I knew it he was smiling and laughing and I was having the best time of my life. More and more people joined us on the dance floor and what went from Clem and I dancing turned into everyone pumping and moving together. In the crowd I lost him and when I saw him again he was dancing with another girl. For a minute, it had been all wonderful, for a moment he had rescued me. I tried to enjoy myself the rest of Prom but my eyes kept drifting to Clem and who he was with and how much fun he was having.

I noticed Victor and Helene once in the lobby of the hotel, away from everyone, having an epic argument. Victor's hands were in his hair as Helene rimmed him for what I was sure too much drinking and being an overall ass.

"She can do so much better," Yara said.

We all agreed but were too busy enjoying ourselves to think much about Victor. I was asked to dance a few other times and I did have fun, despite the sandals forming blisters on my feet, I had a great time. It was the cusp of youth and it was brilliant, it was everything those final moments of High School should be. As the party started to wind down, I hobbled to the lobby to slip my shoes off and I stumbled but a hand reached out to steady me. I was stunned to find Victor there, his large hand holding my forearm so I didn't land on my face. He looked rather sober, his tux mussed, and face in an unhappy scowl. I yanked my arm from him, desperately wanting to give him a piece of my mind.

"You're welcome," he said.

"Do me a favor, don't lend me helping hands."

"But you got to dance with dashing Clemente," he glanced at the ballroom. "Cost me a pretty argument but you're welcome."

I studied him; he was completely sober, nothing like he was earlier, and I opened my mouth to question him, but he pursed his lips.

"I told you, find yourself someone who says fuck it all and goes after you," he said. "Aren't you tired of chasing after Clem?"

"I'm not –"

"Yeah, you are, you're still chasing, Becky-girl."

His jaw tightened and he stuffed his hands inside his tux pants making him look rather handsome, but I would never admit that to him.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to find my girlfriend and try to convince her that I'm not a drunken asshole."

I swore a small smile fluttered through his lips, but he turned and left me alone. I watched him retreat, his broad back hunched, nothing like a Captain of the football team should look like on Prom. I decided to let go of my little battle against Victor Manning. His tactics needed improvement, but if I saw him in the future, I'd at least say hello. I decided to keep that conversation between us a secret and I realized it was the first time I'd held information back from my girls.

As the valet brought our limo around, we were exhausted but flushed with the good time we'd had. We chatted animatedly the entire ride to Rosalind's house where we passed out in a sea of dressed, blisters, and dreams of the future.

Recommended 90s Playlist (will grow with each chapter)

1. Gettin' Jiggy With It - Will Smith

2. Kiss The Rain - Billie Myers

3. Come Baby Come - K7

4. Tubthumping - Chumbawamba

5. Bitch - Meredith Brooks

6. Something to Talk About - Bonnie Raitt

7. WannaBe - Spice Girls

8. Miami - Will Smith