Chapter Text
I didn't go to my junior prom, and I was planning to skip out on my senior one too. I didn’t see the point of it. Every school dance I’ve ever attended has been lackluster at best.
Taryn went to our junior one; she raved about it. "I danced until my feet were sore," she bragged, “No one could take their eyes off me.” It wasn't unusual for all eyes to be on her anyways, but I didn't tell her that.
She begged me to come this year. She tried everything - bribing, blackmailing, teasing, taunting, and she even brought me a ticket.
"Taryn, I'm not going. Prom is overrated,” I said when I found out.
"Prom is what you make of it! It can be lame, or it can be a fun event to dress up and hang loose at," she insisted.
That made me laugh. I'd gone to two homecoming dances with her, and no matter how much I tried to have fun, they were both lame. No one dances at those things; they just jump up and down and stir drama while underpaid staff members watch. Not my idea of a party.
It was the night of, and I was playing in the living room on the Xbox. I didn't fancy many video games, but Madoc and I have been playing Call of Duty together since he adopted us. It serves as a stress reliever now. Although, with my best hand so tightly wrapped in bandages, it proved to be more stress ful than stress less.
Taryn waltzed right in front of the screen and stood there; her weight pushed to one side of her hips and arms crossed. I try to lean my head to look around her. She moves with me.
"We have to get ready for the dance," she announces.
My character gets shot in the head, and the words 'Game Over' light up on the screen.
I sigh. "Taryn, we've talked about this."
"We have, and you're going," she grabs my wrist and tugs me forward. I pull against her to stay seated on the couch.
"When we talked, I explicitly said I'm not going," I remind her, pulling my wrist entirely out of her grip.
Her arms cross once more. "Why are you doing this? Senior prom is a once and a lifetime event; it's the biggest party of our youth."
I roll my eyes. "It's stupid to say that. Why should four years of hormonal insecurity and mediocre academics be celebrated with a single dance?"
Taryn lets out a huff of air to let me know how frustrated she is. Good, I’m frustrated too.
"Is this because of the party?" She asks. She doesn’t need to elaborate. I know exactly which party she’s referring to, the one at the Greenbriar’s two weeks ago. I didn't want to go to that either, and now I couldn't use my hand.
"No, I had decided against it long before that," I grumble.
"Don't let fear control you, Jude."
"I'm not, and I don't." I toss the controller onto the couch, and it bounces off. "Why is it so bad if I don't want to go?"
"I bought you a dress and a ticket with my own money," she admits.
My eyes widen. "I'll pay you back."
She shakes her head. "You can pay me back by going."
" Taryn. "
" Jude, " her voice is just as desperate. "Please, do it for me?" Despite having the same face, Taryn knew just how to use it to her advantage. She could round out her eyes and push out her bottom lip in such a way it was impossible to say no. Even I had trouble with it, and I'd known her all my life.
I try to avoid looking at her, but she keeps moving into view and flashing her puppy dog eyes. It drives me crazy.
I throw my head back until it rests against the couch. "How long is it?"
"Four hours."
Four hours I'll never get back. Four hours at a dance that my sister really wanted me to go to. Was I really thinking about this? Me? At Prom? I could list off a hundred things I’d rather do; one of them is bathing in acid.
I glance at my sister, and her pleading face hasn't changed.
I sigh. "Fine, okay. I'll go."
She tackles me while my guard is down, and we topple onto the couch. My hand stings as it makes contact with the cushion.
"It'll be so much fun! You won't regret it. All you have to do is put on the dress. I'll do your hair and makeup," she promises, her voice an octave higher with excitement.
Knowing her, the hair and makeup in question will be quite lavish. I try not to think about it; this would make her happy after all. I'm doing it for her.
She leads me off the couch and up the stairs, giggling the whole way. Oak, our younger brother, notices Taryn's excitement and follows us - he wants in on the fun.
The dress is the first thing she gives me. It's dark blue, lined with golden stars, with a Queen Anne neckline and a skirt that flows just above my ankles. It's nothing I would have picked myself, but that doesn't mean I don't like it. Taryn has a great eye for things like this. She makes me look better than I do.
Oak watches as my sister works my hair and makeup. He sits in the empty tub with his feet resting on the faucet head. I'm given the golden throne (the toilet) while Taryn plays with every aspect of my head.
"You should do clown makeup," he suggests lazily.
"Absolutely not," Taryn sneers at him. He sticks out his tongue in return.
There's no mirror in view from where I sit. All I can do is trust she's doing her best. She runs a brush through my hair not so gently, pulling it with the bristles and braiding it tightly with her hands.
Oak makes more small comments as she does my makeup, pushing Taryn's buttons in the hopes she'll mess up. After all these years of adjusting to life with a younger brother, she's able to remain steady as she paints my face with hues of red, brown, and gold.
The whole ordeal takes half an hour. Taryn won't let me speak as she does my face, so I hopelessly listen to her and Oak bicker. Saying I'm relieved to finally be done is an understatement; I'm more than grateful I don’t have to spend one more minute as a human doll. Taryn immediately gets to work on herself once she's finished with me. I study myself in the bathroom mirror while she’s gone. Taryn really worked her magic on me, highlighting all my best features - my eyes, my lips. Granted, my best features were also hers.
"Well? What do you think?" Taryn asks once she's returned from putting on her own dress, a beautiful scarlet number that's as thin as she is.
"I look like a Renaissance painting," I admit. There's gold tucked into the inner corners of my eyes and gently brushed over my cheekbones.
"You should. You're my Mona Lisa tonight," she dawns a bright red lipstick to spread across her lips.
"You look the same to me." Oak has taken out his phone to play a game.
"Don't listen to him, Jude, you're beautiful," Taryn insists with a pat on my shoulder.
I have to admit, I do look better than usual. The meticulous effort put into my appearance is obvious. It seems like a waste, though, getting this dolled up to keep my sister happy. No one was even going to look at me. They would all be looking at her and the high slit in her skirt.
"You did a good job," I say. My compliment makes her smile.
"Thank you, someone here has good taste." She casts a not-so-subtle look at Oak. He respectfully flips her off.
She turns her attention back to her make-up, patting a gentle blush across her cheeks. "I know you might not be in the mood for it, but just know Laerin and I are going to Valerian's party afterward. The invitation is open to you too."
Laerin . I completely forgot.
"Is your boyfriend coming?" I ask. I can't believe I didn't think of it before. There was a very big possibility she wasn't going to spend the whole night by my side.
She laughs like it's obvious. At least, it should have been. "Of course he is. He prom-posed to me and everything, remember? He did it in the science hall. I talked about it for weeks," she reminds me, half closing her eyelids to start on her eyeshadow.
I can't hold back my groan. "Are we even going to hang out?"
She’s focused on carefully spreading color across her eyelids. "Of course we are, just not the whole time. Liliver and Van will be there. You'll have friends," she points out. She's working on her hair now, pulling it into a half-up, half-down fashion.
How could I have forgotten? Laerin asked me for her schedule and everything. He stayed up all night making a sign and planning what to say. It was a very sweet gesture, almost sickeningly so.
"Van and Liliver are dating. I'm not going to third wheel them the whole time." I was already in the dress. I couldn't back out, but I'd be damned if I wasn't tempted to.
"You'll have fun," she insists.
I won't, I think to myself. I'm going to stand against the wall and pray the punch isn't spiked.
-
Vivienne drives us to the dance. It's at a small country club close to the high school. Our school rented out a whole banquet hall for the event and decorated it from floor to ceiling. If this were any other event, I’d say the decorations are lovely. However, since I'm one of the people who has to enjoy them, it's entirely overwhelming.
Four hours , I remind myself, then I check prom off the lists of things I've done. Then I can graduate and never look back.
Taryn talks both our ears off about how excited she is to go and how excited she is to go with me. She's guilt-tripping me into staying. I know she is. The worst part is it'll probably work.
We're let off right in front. Taryn takes my arm to drag me in. All the while, Vivienne yells out to not be late for pickup.
The entryway is strung up with lights and streamers to welcome us into a darkened room. The only light is from the strobes on the walls and the camera taking photos out front. My eyes take a few moments to adjust. When they do, I can make out the tables of food lining the walls as well as the empty ones in the center dedicated to eating. There are also various balloon arches spread throughout.
Laerin meets us by the food. The first thing he does is take my sister by the waist and pull her into a loving kiss. I can hear the punch bowl calling my name already.
He's practically drooling over her, rambling on and on about how beautiful she looks tonight in that dress. They talk about getting their picture taken together. I take that as my sign to leave.
I grab a cup of punch before it has a chance to be spiked. There's a teacher standing guard like it's his life mission to keep these teens sober. I don't need to see the future to know his effort will eventually be in vain.
From there, I notice a spot open on the wall near the exit to the outside. I claim it as mine for the night. This way, I can see the whole event. There may be something worth watching if I keep at it.
-
Thirty minutes pass, and boredom has me in a chokehold. My feet ache from the heels Taryn forced me to wear, and my hair is braided so tightly into a crown my head starts pounding. Worst of all, my punch is gone, and I'm too lazy to grab another one.
"I didn't think you were coming," he says. The music coming from the speakers is too loud for me to have heard the sound of him approaching. The sound of his voice takes me by surprise. Out of all the people here tonight, I’m the last one he would waste his time with.
"Do you have nothing better to do?" I keep my gaze focused on the crowd, not giving him the satisfaction of looking at him. "A village to burn down? A dragon to slay?"
"Not at the moment, no." Cardan Greenbrair himself leans against the wall right next to me. He doesn't have to speak as loud now that we're close.
"Then shouldn't you be with your friends? The four of you are usually glued at the hip." I run my fingers along the rim of my empty cup. "Aren't you and Nicasia dating?"
"Valerian has a girlfriend, and Nicasia and I broke up." Cardan points toward the crowd of dancers. Even in the darkness, I can make out Nicasia by the way she moves, like she believes she's the only thing that matters. A man is dancing with her, a man who moves with a similar mindset.
"Locke stole her from you?" It's impossible to hide my amusement.
He sneers at me. "In a sense."
I laugh. "In a sense? You've been dating her for a whole year, and now she's living it up with your best friend while you hang out with the person you hate most. I'd say he did some damage." Locke must be having a field day right now. He ate drama and misfortune with every meal. If people's lives weren't being ruined around him, he'd probably starve.
"I don't want to talk about this," he hisses. I know what he's thinking, especially not with you.
Cardan and I have never been close. We’ve done nothing but bicker and poke fun at each other ever since the first day we met back in elementary school when he cut off my ponytail during craft time.
"Alright, why don't you tell me what else is on your mind then." He didn't come to talk about idle nonsense; he never does. There was something evil on his mind. I wanted to get it over with.
"And what is it I have to say to you?" He turns toward me, his shoulder leaning against the wall. There's a half-drunken punch in his hand I hadn’t noticed before.
"Tell me how hideous I look."
He eyes me up and down, slowly and meticulously. "Do you really think that little of me? Do I seem like the type of guy to insult you the second I see you?"
"You do, and you are."
He scoffs. "Well, what about my outfit then? Do you think I'm hideous all dressed up?"
It's my turn to look him up and down now. He usually wore loose-fitting tops and tight jeans. It was weird to see him in the opposite, a tight suit jacket and baggy dress pants. His ensemble was mostly black, but I could see hints of gold in the lining of it. Most surprising was that his torso looked a lot thinner in a baggy shirt. Now he seemed bigger - solid even.
"I've seen better." I focus on the crowd of teenagers jumping up and down to the beat. As expected, no one here knows how to dance, and they're too embarrassed to try.
I'm surprised by his laughter. "Classic Jude. It seems you have nothing nice to say either."
"Then perhaps we shouldn't say anything at all then." I raise an eyebrow at him though I doubt he can see it in this lighting.
"Perhaps." He swirls the punch in his plastic cup like it's wine. "Perhaps not."
I let out a single breath of laughter. "Are you saying you want to talk to me?"
He shrugs. "I have nothing better to do."
"I'm not here for your entertainment."
"Are you sure? Because you're doing a great job."
I turn my head toward him, keeping my body facing away to not give him my full attention. "You're avoiding the topic."
He leans a little closer. "I'm not going to tell you that you look hideous."
"Do you have a more sophisticated word for it then? Something you can hold over my head, knowing I'll have to look it up later?"
"I'm not going to insult you, Jude."
Now that's a surprise.
"What am I then if not ugly?"
"I'm not answering that." He returns to his back.
I let out a huff of air. Of course, now he doesn't feel like talking.
We stand together, gazing at the growing group of teenagers. Maybe there was a time an event like this would have been fun. However, I’m over all the pomp and circumstance of high school now. I’m 18, legally an adult. I wasn't a kid anymore, and this felt like a kid's event.
Cardan finishes his drink. "How's your hand feeling?” He asks softly. I barely hear him over the rambunctious dance music.
I grip my cup, and it crumples beneath my fingers. "You're the last person I want to talk to about that."
He sighs, like my anger hurts him. "I know." His voice is quiet. If I didn’t know him any better, I’d say he almost sounds sorry.
A slow song comes on, and the crowd thins down until it's only couples. I notice Laerin and Taryn instantly. They sway together happily, passing a nearby light fixture. In the flash of brightness, I see the happy expression on her face. I was doing this for her, her and that smile.
Nicasia and Locke aren't too far away from them. The two of them dance like they've been taking lessons, gracefully maneuvering across every inch of the dance floor.
Cardan is looking down at his unoccupied cup. I didn't notice it earlier, but we’re both third wheeling. The realization almost makes me laugh. Cardan Greenbriar, arguably the most attractive and popular man in school, was a wallflower - and I was in the same boat.
“What if…” his voice rips me from my train of thought, “What if you became my date?” He asks like it’s simple, like he's talking about the time or homework - certainly not prom.
The proposition makes me laugh. He doesn't laugh with me, so I stop. “Are you serious?”
“I fear I am.”
I laugh humorlessly, one huff of surprised air after the other. “And why would I spend my time with you?”
I see something on his face, a ghost of a smile haunting his lips. “Because, like me, you have nothing better to do. If we’re stuck here might as well make the most of it.”
“That’s a recipe for disaster.” It really was. There was no reason for me to trust him or to go along with it.
I see Taryn across the room, living her best life with the guy she loves. I doubt she remembered I was here, and it would be hours before she did. I crush my cup into a broken shell of its former self. “I’m in.”