Status: over.
Deception
prom stuff.
I step out of the dressing room and twirl around in the dress for Miranda and Kara. The dark blue mermaid dress flutters at my feet. They nod approvingly. "Fabulous!" Miranda shouts, grinning. "After thirty-two fucking stores, we finally found one you actually like!"
I smile in the mirror, the silver sequins shimmering under the soft fluorescent lights. "I feel like the odd-one out. I don't have a date," I say, watching Kara's and Miranda's delighted expressions fade. I always ruin the mood. "I mean, you two have your boyfriends."
"Someone will ask you, no worries," Kara says encouragingly. "What about Riley?"
Miranda gives her a "don't talk about about it" look. Kara apologizes profusely, and the silence sets in.
The other day, I saw Riley holding some girl's hand at school. I saw their silhouettes meld together when I turned a corner. Riley stopped wearing that purity ring months ago. The girl he holds hands with wears it now.
"Kales, don't worry about a date. Who needs one? Besides, if Jack doesn't ask me to prom, I'm not going with him," Miranda replies, folding her arms across her chest. "Boyfriends should never assume their girlfriends are going with them anywhere."
> >
Jack blows up a white balloon, drops a folded piece of notebook paper inside, ties the end to a string, and hands it to me. "Write 'please pop me' on it, please, with your gorgeous computer-print handwriting," Jack says hastily as Alex tries to carefully remove the RC Land Rover from Walmart from its box.
"So...what exactly is going on?" Alex asks, popping the AA batteries into the car and the remote.
"After lunch, Mr. Carter will have the RC car drive up to Miranda's desk with the balloon tied to the bumper. She'll pop the ballon and read the note inside that says, 'Will you go to prom with me?" And then I'll show up after I hear the balloon pop in my tux and stuff." Jack takes in a deep breath. "What do you guys think?"
"You brought you tux to school today?" I ask. "But you can't tie a tie."
"Mom pre-tied it for me. Just have to loosen it and put it on," Jack replies proudly. There's not much to be proud of there.
"This seems like way too much work in order for Miranda to go to prom with you," Alex whines, driving the RC car around on the tile. It spins in circles. "Oh, by the way, can I have this after you ask her?"
"Yeah, if you pay me twenty bucks."
Alex snorts. "So not worth it."
Alex and I exchange goodbyes with Jack and walk to BC Calc together. "I wonder why he doesn't ask her with flowers like a normal human being," Alex says, making a face.
"Then it's not special."
"...Does it have to be?"
"Well, it's better if it's special, because then you know this person put in a lot of time and effort into asking you to prom, and this person would really appreciate you going with them," I reply.
> >
Liz screams at me to bring her a bowl of sliced pickles. I guess they're right when they say you have weird craving when you get pregnant. I bring them upstairs to Liz, who's in bed, stirring around her Yoplait White Chocolate Strawberry yogurt.
I place the bowl of pickles on the nightstand, and with her spoon, she scoops up some slices and drops them into her yogurt. I try my best to suppress a gag. "You'll understand when you get pregnant," Liz says, the White Chocolate Raspberry smearing all over her lips.
I really hope I never get pregnant any time soon and eat yogurt and pickles. Stirred in together. Especially not chocolate-flavored yogurt.
The doorbell rings, and I slip down the stairs to answer it. I pull the door open, but no one's there, only a bouquet of stargazers at full bloom. I pick up the bouquet and find a note slipped in among the lilies:
This isn't particularly special. I'm sure you were hoping for something more, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me streaking across the track field at your last meet with flowers in my hand and "prom" printed on my ass. Or me grabbing the mic from the announcer and asking you to prom where you can't say no. Or singing to you in the cafeteria and asking you to prom, where a bunch of girls could potentially kill you.
Miranda told me this was probably the lamest way to ask anyone to prom ever. She wanted me to throw rocks at your window and sing you a song. And dress up in a really lame minstrel costume where it fits really tight in the crotch. Like, really, really tight.
So here it is, my invitation to prom. I dropped these flowers off so you don't have to give me an immediate answer. Take your time. Maybe someone else will ask you, and you'll have more options than just me.
What I'm trying to say is (I'm failing miserably at this) Kaleb, will you go to prom with me? You don't have to tell me yes today. Or tomorrow. Or this week.
Just know that I'm here. Whenever.
Alex.
I smile in the mirror, the silver sequins shimmering under the soft fluorescent lights. "I feel like the odd-one out. I don't have a date," I say, watching Kara's and Miranda's delighted expressions fade. I always ruin the mood. "I mean, you two have your boyfriends."
"Someone will ask you, no worries," Kara says encouragingly. "What about Riley?"
Miranda gives her a "don't talk about about it" look. Kara apologizes profusely, and the silence sets in.
The other day, I saw Riley holding some girl's hand at school. I saw their silhouettes meld together when I turned a corner. Riley stopped wearing that purity ring months ago. The girl he holds hands with wears it now.
"Kales, don't worry about a date. Who needs one? Besides, if Jack doesn't ask me to prom, I'm not going with him," Miranda replies, folding her arms across her chest. "Boyfriends should never assume their girlfriends are going with them anywhere."
> >
Jack blows up a white balloon, drops a folded piece of notebook paper inside, ties the end to a string, and hands it to me. "Write 'please pop me' on it, please, with your gorgeous computer-print handwriting," Jack says hastily as Alex tries to carefully remove the RC Land Rover from Walmart from its box.
"So...what exactly is going on?" Alex asks, popping the AA batteries into the car and the remote.
"After lunch, Mr. Carter will have the RC car drive up to Miranda's desk with the balloon tied to the bumper. She'll pop the ballon and read the note inside that says, 'Will you go to prom with me?" And then I'll show up after I hear the balloon pop in my tux and stuff." Jack takes in a deep breath. "What do you guys think?"
"You brought you tux to school today?" I ask. "But you can't tie a tie."
"Mom pre-tied it for me. Just have to loosen it and put it on," Jack replies proudly. There's not much to be proud of there.
"This seems like way too much work in order for Miranda to go to prom with you," Alex whines, driving the RC car around on the tile. It spins in circles. "Oh, by the way, can I have this after you ask her?"
"Yeah, if you pay me twenty bucks."
Alex snorts. "So not worth it."
Alex and I exchange goodbyes with Jack and walk to BC Calc together. "I wonder why he doesn't ask her with flowers like a normal human being," Alex says, making a face.
"Then it's not special."
"...Does it have to be?"
"Well, it's better if it's special, because then you know this person put in a lot of time and effort into asking you to prom, and this person would really appreciate you going with them," I reply.
> >
Liz screams at me to bring her a bowl of sliced pickles. I guess they're right when they say you have weird craving when you get pregnant. I bring them upstairs to Liz, who's in bed, stirring around her Yoplait White Chocolate Strawberry yogurt.
I place the bowl of pickles on the nightstand, and with her spoon, she scoops up some slices and drops them into her yogurt. I try my best to suppress a gag. "You'll understand when you get pregnant," Liz says, the White Chocolate Raspberry smearing all over her lips.
I really hope I never get pregnant any time soon and eat yogurt and pickles. Stirred in together. Especially not chocolate-flavored yogurt.
The doorbell rings, and I slip down the stairs to answer it. I pull the door open, but no one's there, only a bouquet of stargazers at full bloom. I pick up the bouquet and find a note slipped in among the lilies:
This isn't particularly special. I'm sure you were hoping for something more, but I didn't think you'd appreciate me streaking across the track field at your last meet with flowers in my hand and "prom" printed on my ass. Or me grabbing the mic from the announcer and asking you to prom where you can't say no. Or singing to you in the cafeteria and asking you to prom, where a bunch of girls could potentially kill you.
Miranda told me this was probably the lamest way to ask anyone to prom ever. She wanted me to throw rocks at your window and sing you a song. And dress up in a really lame minstrel costume where it fits really tight in the crotch. Like, really, really tight.
So here it is, my invitation to prom. I dropped these flowers off so you don't have to give me an immediate answer. Take your time. Maybe someone else will ask you, and you'll have more options than just me.
What I'm trying to say is (I'm failing miserably at this) Kaleb, will you go to prom with me? You don't have to tell me yes today. Or tomorrow. Or this week.
Just know that I'm here. Whenever.
Alex.