It's Our Prom (So Deal With It) Read online

  Connor reaches into his backpack and pulls out a folded sheet of paper.

  “There weren’t too many hotels with a ballroom available on April sixteenth,” I say. “Or even a big enough meeting room.”

  Shauna crosses her arms, like, Told you so.

  Azure returns, practically dragging Radhika behind her. “You’re at school anyway. You said you wanted to spend more time with us, and here we are.”

  “Azure…” Radhika scans the room, checking everyone out.

  Mr. Rosen introduces himself. He asks Radhika if she knows everyone. Radhika nods and says, more to Azure than to Mr. Rosen, “I really don’t think I can be on this committee.”

  “Please,” Azure implores. “We need you.”

  I think, I need you. In ways you can’t even imagine.

  Shauna clears her throat. “We were talking about hotels?”

  Mr. Rosen says, “It might be a good idea to elect a secretary. To record our decisions and keep minutes.”

  “I can do it,” Azure says. She pulls Radhika down beside her.

  “You can’t even read your own writing,” I say. “Here, I’ll key the notes on my netbook.” I open a Prom file.

  “So what did you come up with?” Shauna asks.

  I return to my Hotel file. Every hotel I called, I noted yes or no as far as availability. I also keyed in cost. “I ended up with five that said they had a room big enough for a thousand people.”

  Connor says, “When I mentioned it was for a prom, no one had a room, like we were juvie d’s planning to torch the place afterward.”

  Azure goes, “I only found two hotels. One’s clear out by the airport, and the other’s at the Tech Center.”

  Mr. Rosen asks, “Are all of these within our budget?”

  “You never told us what the budget is,” I say.

  “Didn’t I?” Mr. Rosen fake-stabs his forehead. “Space case.” He opens his folder and flips through the first couple of pages. “We have two thousand dollars budgeted for prom out of the student activities fees. Plus around eight hundred from corporate sponsors.”

  All at once, Connor, Azure, and I say, “What?”

  “My lowest-priced hotel is four thousand dollars,” I say. “And that’s with their biggest discount.”

  “Mine’s thirty-five hundred,” Azure goes. “How do they expect us to stay within the budget when it’s impossible?”

  “You guys.” Shauna shakes her head. “Don’t you know anything?”

  We all stare at her.

  “We have to do fund-raisers. That’s how we can afford to put on the prom at all. In addition to the site, we have to pay for food and decorations and favors and the photographer and the DJ….”

  “We want a live band, don’t we?” I say.

  Azure says, “We have to have a live band.”

  Shauna says, “Then we have to find a way to pay for it.”

  “It’s a little late to do much fund-raising.” Mr. Rosen sighs.

  Shauna goes, “Duh.”

  Mr. Rosen says, “Unfortunately, Grease Monkey and Ace Hardware had to drop out as corporate sponsors. The economy, you know.”

  I don’t know why it strikes me funny that Grease Monkey would be a corporate sponsor, but I start laughing. Then I can’t stop, and Connor has to smack me on the back. When I get myself under control, everyone is gawking at me. “Sorry,” I say. “I’m on my period.” I don’t even want to ask who else sponsors us. But now I have to know. “Who else sponsors us?”

  Mr. Rosen consults his list. “Black Forest Bakery, Midwest Bank, and Artful Framer.”

  I’d used Artful Framer once for a watercolor I did for my parents for Christmas. They charged an arm and three legs. Mr. Rosen adds, “It’d be nice if we could find a couple of replacement sponsors. Would anyone like to take on that project?”

  Shauna says, “That’s not usually something we have to worry about. Mrs. Flacco always found the corporate sponsors.”

  Mr. Rosen hesitates. “Okay. That’ll be my responsibility. Make a note, Luke.”

  Radhika speaks up. “My dad might have some contacts. I could ask him.”

  Mr. Rosen looks like he wants to kiss her. Me first, I think.

  Azure says, “Too bad we don’t have a nice gym or cafeteria. We could save big bucks.” Roosevelt High should be condemned. Neither the gym nor the cafeteria is big enough for a prom. A new high school is being built, but it won’t open until next year, after we’ve all graduated.

  “Everyone I talked to said I should get my reservation in now,” I tell the committee. “The party and conference rooms fill up fast. And we should go check out the hotels to make sure they’re not dives.”

  “I can’t go any night this week because I have soccer,” Connor says. “What about Saturday?”

  “I can do Saturday,” Shauna says.

  Azure goes, “I thought Connor, Luke, and I were looking at sites.”

  “But we should all go. It needs to be a group decision.”

  “I can’t go.” Radhika lowers her eyes. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Azure says.

  We go back and forth about when we all have free time, or could make time. Finally, we settle on Sunday. Shauna sulks because it’s the one day she can’t make it.

  I say to Shauna, “We’ll take pictures, okay? Like you said, we need to divide and conquer if we’re going to get everything done in time.”

  Shauna must realize she’s lost the battle. She moves on, saying, “We need a way to communicate with each other. Last year we had a Google docs file. Do you want me to set one up?”

  “That’d be super,” Mr. Rosen says. “Thank you, Shauna.”

  “And we should clear out Prom Central and get it ready for this year. But the first thing we need is a theme.”

  Azure groans.

  “We do!” Shauna insists.

  Connor scoots back his chair. “Sorry, guys. I have to leave.”

  Is it three fifteen already?

  Mr. Rosen says, “Think about themes for our Wednesday meeting.”

  Azure says, “Can we also talk about how we’re going to make this prom different? More alternative?”

  “Sure,” Mr. Rosen says. “It’s your prom.”

  “It isn’t yet,” Azure mutters.

  On the way home, Radhika says, “Please, please don’t let my parents know I’m on this prom committee.”

  “Promise,” Azure and I say in unison. That must mean she’s going to join!

  I add, “Thank your mom for the tandoori. It was tandelicious. And gone before Owen could sniff out the curry.”

  “I never asked you this, and tell me if you don’t want to talk about it, but how is it living with Owen?” Radhika asks.

  Azure snorts.

  “He’s your basic butthole of a brother. I’ll survive.”

  “Not to mention bigot,” Azure goes.

  “Yeah, there’s that. It’s only for a few more months, though. If I don’t get accepted to an art school, I can always go to Germany and live with my parents. Except I’d probably travel around Europe instead.”

  “Take me with you,” Azure pleads. “I can fit in your backpack.”

  “With all your piercings, you’ll set off every train and airport scanner.”

  Azure sticks out her tongue at me. Her silver stud glistens.

  Radhika jumps out at home and races inside without even stopping to wave good-bye. Azure climbs into the front seat and turns to me. “Do you think we forced her to do something she didn’t want to?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “She’d tell us. Wouldn’t she?”

  Azure worries her tongue stud until I drop her off.

  Owen’s in the driveway with a bucket of soapy water and the hose, washing his black stretch limo. His prize possession. He calls it Black Panther. It must’ve gotten a microscopic mud splotch on it, because it came back from detailing two days ago, and he’s already washing it again. Steam rises from the hood and Owen’
s breath is visible in the chilly air. A sane person would just run his cars through a car wash, no?

  He hitches his chin at me, like he acknowledges my existence. It’s a first. I sling my man bag over my shoulder and walk up to him. “Did you go to your prom?” I ask.

  He stops for a second. “My prom?”

  “In high school. Did you go?”

  “No.” He dunks his sponge in the water.

  “All the hos had johns that night?”

  He doesn’t even bother to squeeze out the sponge before he pitches it at me. It smacks me square in the face. He tries to stifle a laugh, but can’t. I want to drop everything and attack him, take him down and pulverize his acne-scarred face and bust his nose and just scream, “I hate you!” But I know he’d kick my ass. Anyway, I have my dignity and gender queer pride to protect.

  I turn and saunter casually into the house. Four months, I count to myself. Four months to freedom.

  AZURE

  My affirmations don’t match the days anymore because I keep ripping them off until I find one I like. I stop at: “You are kind and caring in a way that comforts others.”

  I try to be kind and caring with Dad, with my friends. With Radhika.

  I’m thinking about this affirmation as these two women, who look like mother and daughter, come into the thrift shop carrying armloads of red dresses. The older woman says, “We’d like to donate these.”

  The younger one scans the shop, looking horrified.

  I rush around the front desk to help the woman unload the dresses onto a receiving table. “Wow,” I say. “These are beautiful.”

  They’re full-length gowns, satin and strapless. Instantly, I catch on. Bridesmaid dresses. I know because we have four other sets in the formalwear room in back. “Let me get you a receipt,” I tell the woman, reaching across the desk for the receipt pad. “How many are there?” I ask.

  “Six,” the mother says. The daughter—I assume she’s the daughter—hugs herself loosely, staring at the floor.

  As I’m writing out the description of the donation, I say to the daughter, “Thank you so much. All the proceeds go to Kids with Cancer. It’s a really worthy cause.”

  “At least something good will come out of this fiasco,” the mother carps.

  The daughter’s lips purse.

  I’m dying to know what happened, why the wedding was called off, whether the bride reneged or the groom did. As I hand the receipt to the mother, she says, “He might’ve had the courtesy of breaking off the engagement before all the arrangements were made.”

  Which answers my question.

  I say to the daughter, “What a jerk. I’m really sorry.”

  She snaps at me, “You don’t know anything about it.” She whirls and heads for the door.

  My shoulders hunch. Yeah, I’m so kind and caring.

  The mother sticks the receipt in her bag and says, “Take my advice: Elope.”

  The door whooshes shut and those gorgeous dresses draw me to them. I hold one up, thinking, No way will I ever elope. I want a huge wedding with all the trimmings. Flowers, cake, champagne, music. I want to dance with my bride long into the night, and toss my bouquet over my shoulder to the next bride-to-be. My wedding dress will be pure white with a mile-long train, and I’ll have a flower girl and a ring bearer.

  “Did those just come in?” Louisa jolts me out of my reverie.

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “Bridesmaid dresses.”

  “I guessed that. They’re gaudy. Who’d choose red for their bridesmaids?”

  I would, I think. “I’ll take them to the formalwear room,” I tell Louisa.

  She folds the dresses over my arms. “Don’t put them up front on the rack. They’ll scare customers away.”

  Or invite them in. Everyone has different tastes.

  As I’m hanging the dresses, I fantasize about my wedding. Every time I get to the end, where the pastor says, “You may kiss the bride,” the person who lifts my veil is Radhika. Getting married to Radhika, having a wedding, becoming legally wife and wife…

  “Hey.”

  I turn at the sound of the voice.

  “I heard you worked here.”

  “Desirae. Hi.” She looks different, like she grew taller, or older.

  “Oh my God. Those dresses are awesome.” She circles around me to where I’m hanging the last one.

  “I know, huh? They’re bridesmaid dresses from a canceled wedding.”

  She licks her lips. My stomach does a little flip; I remember those lips, soft and sweet. I shake off the feeling.

  “I didn’t think you’d ever speak to me again,” I say.

  She looks at me and frowns. “Why?”

  Do I really have to tell her?

  “It wasn’t me. Right?” She smiles a little.

  I shake my head. “Right. Stupid thing to say. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be. Anyway, I found someone else.” She turns toward the dresses, away from me.

  You’d think I’d feel relieved about that, but a knot of jealousy clenches my stomach. I have no right to be jealous. Anyway, knowing she doesn’t hate me lifts my spirits.

  “I’m glad,” I say. “Do I know her?”

  “Could I try one of these on?” Desi asks.

  “Um, sure. The dressing room’s over there.” I point to the closet with the curtain.

  We riffle through the sizes looking for a twelve. “They’ve probably been altered,” I say.

  She takes a ten and a twelve to the dressing room.

  “How’ve you been?” she asks through the curtain. “I see you around with Luke and Radhika. I’ve been too busy with French club and Science Olympiad to get to Diversity Club much. Where are you going to college next year?”

  I’m embarrassed to tell her I haven’t thought much about it. “I might be traveling in Europe with Luke.”

  “Seriously?” She draws back the curtain. “How cool. I wish I was graduating.” She twists to check out the back of the dress in the mirror. “What do you think?”

  I step forward and retie the silk belt at the waist so it’s full and even. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It is, isn’t it? Do you have any shoes that might go with it?”

  “Let me look.” I run to the shoe area and dig through the pumps. “What size?” I call back to her.

  “A seven or seven and a half.”

  I should know that. I find a pair of silver heels, clear plastic pumps that look pretty cheesy, and some gold stilettos a stripper must’ve donated.

  Desi takes them and tries each pair on in front of me. We agree that none of them really works.

  “How much is the dress?” she asks.

  Louisa and I didn’t discuss price, and I haven’t settled on one. Louisa doesn’t even like the dresses. “How much would you be willing to pay?”

  Desi’s eyes grow large. “I don’t know. Like, a hundred dollars?”

  “Think lower.” I cringe at my impulsiveness. Think Kids with Cancer, I tell myself.

  “Fifty?” she says.

  “Sold.”

  “Oh my God.” Desi engulfs me in an embrace and I can barely breathe. It’s not only because she’s crushing me. It’s been so long….

  She releases her hold and says, “I’m going to wear this to prom. It’ll be perfect.”

  “Perfect,” I repeat, the sensation of her nearness lingering.

  “I don’t have the money today, so could you hold it for me?”

  “Absolutely,” I say.

  As she exits, she blows me a kiss and I catch it. Her new GF must be a senior if Desirae’s going to prom.

  After my shift, I log in my hours, then ask Louisa, “Would it be okay if I tried on a few things? I saw some boots I really like.”

  “Be my guest,” she says.

  I return to the formalwear room. A lot of the dresses in here are probably leftover prom dresses, or cocktail dresses cleaned out of an old aunt’s closet.
I love everything with lace. If I had money to burn, I’d buy all the lacy dresses, the black and blue clothing, boots, gloves, and hats in this place. Then I’d accessorize with jewelry. Most of the gowns are in good shape, and an idea begins to solidify in my brain. Girls—or guys—who wanted to go to prom on the cheap could shop here. I bet I could get Louisa to give them a discount, since dresses like these don’t usually move very well. I make a mental note for the next prom com meeting.

  When I get home Dad’s not there. Instantly, I freak. Then I see he’s left me a message on the fridge. It’s a picture of that one lady, Mercedes. Dad wrote in the top margin: My first victim.

  I lie on the sofa to watch TV and wait for him to get home. I wait and wait. He must be having a good time, I think. If he plans to stay over at her house—ew, the thought of my dad having… you know—I hope he’ll call to let me know. Not about the… you know. Radhika phones around eleven, after her mom’s in bed, so we talk about nothing and everything. I ask her point-blank if she really wants to be on the prom com and she says yes, which is a relief. By the time we hang up, I’m feeling so light-headed and sleepy in a romantic, dreamy kind of way that I drift off to blissville.

  The next thing I know Dad’s covering me with a blanket and tucking it in around me. “How was your date?” I ask him in a yawn.

  He smiles.

  “You’re home early,” I say. “What happened? Did you show her your gun?”

  He tickles my ribs until I’m writhing around, squealing with giggle pain.

  “Go to bed,” he says. “Or I’ll show you my guns.” He starts to roll up his sleeve.

  I don’t care to see any part of his anatomy, so I scramble to my room.

  LUKE

  “Luke, will you read the notes from the last meeting?” Mr. Rosen says.

  “We’re out two corporate sponsors. You and Radhika were on the case.”

  “My dad’s out of town,” Radhika says. “He should be home sometime this week.”

  “I’ve been swamped the last two days,” Mr. Rosen says. “I may not be able to start until the weekend.”

  “It’s already the last week in January!” Shauna cries. “We only have two and a half months.”

  Mr. Rosen smiles at her. “Thank you for updating the calendar.”