Stuck

Logan Mitchell’s cell phone landed against the white round coffee table with a soft thud, but Logan didn’t care so much about his phone at that moment. Instead, his gaze was locked onto the jade-eyed stare of his best friend Kendall, watching the words fall from his lips.

“Just text her, Logan. Just text her and ask her if she wants to go to prom with you.”

His voice retained its typical casual tone, but there was that flicker of challenge that rose to the surface of his viridian irises, silently edging Logan on. As the figurehead of their group of friends, Kendall’s leadership was less straightforward. There was no trace of condescension in his expression, but the firm set of his jaw exuded the golden-haired boy’s inner courage, endowing his friend with a temporary boldness.

Three pairs of eyes were trained on Logan as he leaned forward, suddenly snatching the phone off the table, his fingers shaking as they punched in the one simple question he knew he’d never be able to ask her face-to-face.

Will you go to the prom with me?

His thumb jabbed the send button quickly before he had the chance to change his mind, and he placed the phone back on the coffee table. The harsh brightness of the screen seemed to glare at him, taunting him before it eventually faded to darkness.

Two pairs of eyes drifted cautiously between Logan’s face and the phone on the table, but Kendall’s eyes stayed glued to Logan, his lips curving upwards in a reassuring smile.

James’s olive and gold-flecked gaze was itching with excitement, desperate for one of his friends to finally experience the same pleasure that he had with so many girls on numerous occasions. Because behind those soulful hazel eyes, the mind of James Diamond was utterly hormone-ridden, and to him, prom night was just a long and elaborate opening act leading up to the main attraction of sex. Dressing his best was just an added benefit, a small addition that only inflated his already ballooning ego.

Maybe if Logan got laid, James thought, pausing to flick a clump of chestnut brown hair from his eyes, he wouldn’t be so uptight.

Carlos’s Hershey syrup eyes buzzed with anxious, unfocused excitement, his line of vision darting frantically between the phone and his friend, occasionally falling upon the silver, stainless steel gleam of the refrigerator, silently pondering its contents before returning back to Logan. He knew full and well that he could’ve easily been in his friend’s position. Fortunately, his girlfriend-type-thing Stephanie had agreed to be his date, on the pretense that he left his treasured hockey helmet in the apartment for the night. You know, helmet hair clashes with prom photos and all that. But he still knew how close he had been to having to go stag to prom, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even Logan, who happened to have a grudge against Carlos’s most prized possession.

The four best friends’ thoughts were interrupted by the familiar buzz of phone against tabletop, and Logan’s heartbeat stammered in his chest, his eyes watching as the screen glowed brilliantly, begging for his touch. But Logan was frozen in his seat on the couch with coffee-colored eyes widened in fear and anticipation.

It was James’s voice that eventually thawed him out, shook the numbness from his bones. “Well…are you going to check it or not?” The inflection in his voice transformed the phrase from a question to a command, and Logan’s hand reflexively grabbed his phone, thumb flicking across the screen to open the text. Her response made his breath catch in the back of his throat.

After a hard swallow, he announced, “She said yes.”

As he heard his own words out loud, a broad smile overtook his face, accentuating the dimples in his cheeks. The air in the small living room sparked and buzzed with excitement as the other three guys congratulated him, each of the boys’ limbs flailing in their own sporadic happy dances.

“We have to go pick out our tuxes,” James declared, his sunkissed skin aglow as he imagined picking out the perfect prom-worthy outfits for himself and his crew. Of course, he’d make sure he looked the best. He couldn’t risk not winning the cherished title of prom king, though with his natural good looks and suave charm, he was practically already crowned.

Shortly after class let out the following day, the four boys were standing in the center of one of Los Angeles’s most stylish formal wear shops, Carlos and Logan waiting their turn to get fitted while Kendall was in the process. James was already lounging on one of the posh white leather couches in his strikingly white tuxedo, staring at his nailbeds, silently contemplating whether to sneak away to get a manicure before prom.

Their producer, Gustavo's fingers dug into the arms of one of the white leather armchairs, his knuckles growing pale with impatience, yellow bug-eyed sunglasses masking the way his brown eyes rolled around in their sockets. In Hollywood and in the industry, time was money, and all the time the boys had wasted in this shop was valuable time that could’ve been better spent in the studio recording.

But even infamous music mogul Gustavo Rocque couldn’t deny that it made his ice heart thaw out slightly to see his golden boys so excited. Prom was a crucial rite of passage, and he wouldn’t deprive them of that experience, that one night that perfectly bottled up the essence of being a teenager.

When Kendall was finished getting fitted into his tux, he joined James on the couch. His hazel eyes gave the blonde a slow look of approval. The black tuxedo softened Kendall’s broad, hockey-toned shoulders, causing his frame to appear less intimidating, but James didn’t feel one-upped. His white tux was so cutting edge, so Shangri-la James Bond, that he had no doubt that he would most certainly be the best dressed at the occasion.

As Logan stood on the pedestal, surrounded by full-length mirrors as the tailor scoured his lean frame with a measuring tape, he realized that he could barely recognize the young man staring back at him. The suit was a little loose on him, the shoulders a bit too long, but it was more about the way it made him feel, the way the silky yet stiff material felt against his skin. His posture straightened almost automatically, and there was a slight swagger in his step despite how snug the leather loafers felt around his toes.

The magenta tie brought out the soft flush hidden beneath his fair skin, and though he knew it was physically impossible, his chocolate eyes seemed to possess greater depth, a more vibrant hue. The faint smile that adorned his lips was difficult to bite back, and this was only the dress rehearsal. This wasn’t even prom night, and Logan already felt on top of the world.

Logan didn’t see the tux again until the day of prom, when they all rode together in Gustavo’s hulking black, gas-guzzling SUV to pick up their tuxes for the night. Hidden in the white garment bag over the window, the suit was less intimidating, and the panic didn’t hit him until Logan was in the bedroom he shared with James, trying to make sure each piece was on correctly, examining himself in the mirror as he dressed. Though he still thought he looked nice, he was nervous to find out if his date would feel the same way.

To say that Logan and Kandi had a history would’ve been a massive understatement, but Logan had never really been good with words, so he couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. It was odd, thinking back on it, that he’d only known her for a few months but already considered one of his best friends. Because she hadn’t known him since kindergarten, she brought in a different perspective. She was able to see him in a different light and relate to him on a different level than James, Kendall, and Carlos could, and he secretly loved her for that.

But more recently, being around Kandi was like walking on a tightrope, that hold-your-breath, watch-every-move-you-make type of anxiety, because ever since he realized that his feelings ran much deeper than friendship, he became completely clueless around her. He was constantly teetering between telling her how he felt and remaining silent. Being unsure of what to do was hardly an unfamiliar feeling for Logan, so he did the usual: he went to Kendall. Kendall had always had a way of sorting out his friend’s frantic thoughts, and of course, he was certain he had the solution to Logan’s circumstance.

“Just tell her that you like her,” he’d replied bluntly while he continued to make his smoothie. “All you have to do is say the words. Ask her if she wants to go to dinner and a movie or something. That’s a typical date-y date.”

Logan couldn’t help but roll his eyes in response to the other boy’s easygoing nature. “But we go to the movies and stuff all the time, how would she know that I was asking her on a date?” He said the last word in a sharp hush, as if it were taboo.

The taller boy responded with a simple shrug. “It’s not that hard. You don’t have to declare your love or anything, this isn’t a movie.”

He sighed. Maybe Kendall was right, maybe he should just tell her and get it over with. Put himself on the line.

But every time he worked up the nerve to tell her, he just couldn’t get his tongue to form the words. Cobwebs seemed to form at the back of his throat, causing his mouth to become dry and his voice to tangle up in its fibers. He’d gain a steady start, but as soon as the question made its way to the forefront of his mind, he began to stammer, his mind searching desperately for something, anything else to say.

Rejection, in all of its many forms, was the one thing Logan feared the most. His second greatest fear was losing his best friend. Those three heavy words had enough power to either give him everything he’d ever wanted or strip it all away.

As he tied his loafers in the living room, surrounded by his support system before they all dispersed throughout the building to pick up their dates, Logan felt his confidence begin to build up once more. He could do this, he couldn’t stand not doing it any longer. He would tell her tonight, and hopefully, she’d feel the same way.

Logan Mitchell was tired of lingering on that tightrope, and tonight would be the night he’d finally make it across the chasm.

But as he made his way down the hall to Kandi’s apartment, he felt his swagger begin to shed from his skin. His shoes suddenly felt like a chokehold around his toes, his suit much too heavy as sweat began to collect beneath the dark material. Once he reached the door, his fingers began to tremble, loosening their grip around the clear plastic box that held her corsage. He knocked three times slowly, his eyes focused intently on the bronzed floor number and room letter. Though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything, he attempted to look through the peephole, immediately jerking away when he heard footfalls echo from the other side of the door.

An instant later, Logan was greeted by a flurry of strong floral perfume and southern charm as Kandi’s mother stood beaming at him.

“Hi Ms. Jenkins, is Kandi ready yet?” he asked as he struggled to fight back his nerves.

“Well don’t you look handsome,” she remarked, and he could tell she was fighting the urge to reach over and pinch his cheek. “Come on in, Kandi’s just finishing up.”

He flashed the middle-aged woman his most polite smile and followed her inside.

“Kandi, Logan’s waiting,” she called out as they stood in the small kitchen, her hazel eyes smiling at the nervous boy as she spoke.

“Coming!” he could hear Kandi’s voice shout back from her bedroom, followed almost immediately by Jennifer Woods, who scurried out of the apartment as inconspicuously as possible. She threw Logan a quick but excited wave as she passed.

Kandi cautiously tiptoed out of her room shortly after, teetering slightly in her high heels, and Logan was relieved to catch a glimpse of his friend beneath all of the makeup and teased hair. Though it wasn’t her usual effortless style, the sight of her still made Logan’s breath catch in the back of his throat. He tried to swipe his clammy palms dry against the sides of his slacks as she approached, smiling faintly at him. There was a glimmer in her deep honey-brown eyes, buried beneath the mascara-coated eyelashes and iridescent eyeshadow, a subtle hint that she was just as anxiously excited as he was, and that made his own awkwardness seem to melt away.

“Well well, Logan Mitchell,” she began, gazing at him from beneath her lashes. “Don’t you clean up well?”

It was that subtle sass combined with her usual southern drawl that made him smile to himself.

“I try, I try.” He could feel his muscles loosen as he chuckled. “You don’t look so bad yourself, K.”

Despite how difficult it was to tell her how he felt, he couldn’t deny how easy it was just talking to her like this, how natural it felt. She made it so easy to talk to her, so easy for him to love her, and he hated it because there was nothing he could do to change it.

He watched as she wove in between him and her mother, retrieving a similar plastic box from her fridge.

“Okay, so I have no idea how to pin this on you without stabbing you,” she joked, gently removing the orchid boutonnière from its case. She turned to her mother, the same warm smile lingering on their lips. “Where do I put it?”

Ms. Jenkins’s slightly wrinkled hand ran across the lapel of Logan’s jacket as a demonstration. “Put it somewhere in this general area, just make sure it’s on straight.” The woman’s southern accent pulled at the vowels as she smiled up at Logan in reassurance.

Kandi’s manicured fingers eased the needle into the silk, glancing up nervously to gauge his reaction before the shiny end of the pin reemerged from the fabric. As she pulled away, her hands slowly smoothed out the lapel, silently admiring the way the flower’s magenta petals stood out amongst the black.

Logan’s task was easier, but his fingers still trembled slightly as he eased her daffodil corsage from the box, tugging the velcro band loose before tightening it around her tiny wrist. She smiled back at him gratefully, her stare locking onto his softly. Daffodils were her favorite flowers, and yellow, her favorite color. It was a little trivial piece of information he remembered her telling him on the rooftop one night, and she’d probably forgotten she’d even told him. The soft clicks coming from the camera as her mother snapped photos were magnified by the silence, and Logan knew he was balancing on the tightrope again.

It was in the way his hands rested effortlessly along her hipbones as Ms. Jenkins took more photos of them, this time in the traditional prom poses. Poses Logan knew he’d feel awkward placed in with anyone else, but with Kandi, they just felt right. It came as easily as breathing, pretending to be half of a couple with her, his arms wrapped around her waist as she rested her cheek against his chest, both of them smiling perfectly for the camera. There was something present between them, in the way her body felt so warm against his, that he couldn’t deny any longer. He was tired of acting, he wanted to be with her.

After countless photos and a promise to make copies for Logan’s mom back in Minnesota, the two of them were left to their own devices, silently navigating through the building to the banquet hall downstairs, both teenaged bodies radiating with anticipation.

“So what did you choose for dinner tonight?” she asked as they stood at the end of the hallway, waiting for the elevator.

“I picked the fish. I’m not a huge steak person,” he admitted. “What about you?”

“Had to go with the chicken,” she laughed.

He could feel his dimples digging into his cheeks as he grinned, his eyes creasing and squinting up at the corners. “Should’ve known. You always get chicken.”

“What can I say?” she replied. “I’m a creature of habit.”

The ding of the elevator as it approached the fourth floor punctuated her statement, its steel door sliding open slowly in front of them.

Dinner was easy; conversation flowed freely between the group of friends as they enjoyed the gourmet meal, each of them feeling more adult in their best formal outfits, drinking iced water from wine glasses.

The normally drab interior of one of the Palm Woods’s banquet halls had been overhauled by various lights and decorations. White linen covered tables surrounded a spacious dancefloor, a revolving disco ball hung over the center of the room, its mirrored surface throwing glimmers of light across each of the walls. Kandi’s expertly curled locks occasionally caught the light, bringing out the natural golden highlights hidden in a sea of chestnut brown. Everything about her that night seemed otherworldly: the way her peach lipgloss shimmered against her lips, the way she continued to steal sidelong glances at him while pretending to be absorbed in conversation with one of her girlfriends. Tonight was definitely the night. Tonight, Logan would make his move.

It wasn’t long after dinner that she was pulling him out of his chair and out onto the dancefloor, bouncing to the upbeat rhythm of the hiphop track the deejay was spinning. Logan had never been much of a dancer, but since it was a crucial part of his new line of work, he’d been forced to learn some moves. He wasn't much without the choreographer though.

Kandi was grinning at him from beneath the lavender lights, a complete goofball as her arms pumped in the air, obnoxiously “raising the roof,” trying to get her date to loosen up. It didn’t take much coaxing to get him to dance wildly alongside her, both of them flailing recklessly to the infectious beat.

After the first dance, she kicked her heels off, leaving them behind beneath the table as she scampered back to the dancefloor in her bare feet.

The next song was the all-too-familiar beat announcing the Electric Slide, and despite Kandi’s protests, Logan sat this one out on the edge of the dancefloor. His eyes stayed glued to Kandi as she leaned back and forth, stepping in time with the multitude of other well-dressed teens lined up on the floor. It was a ridiculous dance, but he couldn’t help but smile at how ecstatic she looked, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering beneath the disco ball.

Logan surveyed the crowded dancefloor in search of his friends and found Kendall with ease, waving his arms in the air to the beat alongside his girlfriend Jo. It was obvious that neither of them knew the actual dance, but they both seemed to be having fun regardless, dancing off to themselves near the edge of the floor with bright smiles imprinted across their faces. As soon as he noticed his friend, Kendall gave him an approving smile, briefly throwing him a thumbs-up sign in between dance moves. Logan couldn't help but think how amazing Kendall and Jo looked together in their matching gold-accented outfits, dirty blonde hair, and perfect beams. No wonder their circle of friends had affectionately nicknamed the pair Barbie and Ken.

Even though he'd never admit it to anyone, Logan envied their relationship. He wanted to have that sort of bond with someone, and though it made him feel a little cheesy, he honestly wanted to be hopelessly in love with someone who shared those same feelings for him. Logan was tired of going through life with his feelings unreciprocated, and he thought that maybe Kandi could be the one person to turn that around. But he knew it was unfair of him to place all that pressure on her, like there was some magical way that one girl could turn an entire sixteen years of life around.

As usual, the Electric Slide faded into the Cha Cha Slide, the booming voice announcing each move as Kandi remained on the floor, flashing him a quick grin as she beckoned for him to join her. Her smile mirrored across his lips as he nodded, his gaze never leaving hers.

Her hands were raised just above her shoulders as her shoulders swayed to the beat, her mahogany eyes focused on her feet for a moment as she followed the song. She didn’t miss a step, the hem of her short multicolored dress floating just above her knees as she danced. Logan was thankfully for the dim lights, unable to keep from blushing as he watched her shake her ass along with the voice chanting in rhythm, “How low can you go? Can you go down low? All the way to the floor?”

She didn’t make it all the way to the floor, casually pulling herself back up from her kneel when she knew she couldn’t balance any longer.

As the song wrapped up, Logan became oddly curious to find out what Carlos was doing, so his eyes scanned the crowd in hopes of finding his caramel-skinned friend. In typical Carlos fashion, he was looming over the appetizer buffet, piling his plate to the brim with buffalo wings. That childlike glimmer of happiness played across his dark eyes as he turned to chat with Stephanie, who didn't seem the least bit fazed by his snackfood addiction and hyper mannerisms. It made Logan feel good to see his friends happy, especially since they'd all been working so hard since they'd moved to Los Angeles.

Kandi was back at his side in an instant, laughing and swiping her bangs from her eyes.

“You owe me two dances,” she teased in a singsong voice, rolling her eyes up at him.

“I know, I know,” he reluctantly agreed. “I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

“Oh really now?” she raised her eyebrow suggestively before breaking down into laughter. Outright sexy just wasn't her strong suit. “Come on, let’s go!”

She was dragging him out onto the floor again, her grip tight and damp around his hand. The fast-paced interlude slowly blended into a slow song, but the change of pace didn’t seem to bother Kandi, her arms casually wrapping around his neck as his hands found a resting place against the curve of her hips. As they slowly swayed back and forth to the music, Logan tried to keep his stare focused on the opposite wall, in fear that if he met her gaze, he’d end up blurting out all his feelings to her.

It was hard. Having her body pressed so close against his sent his brain into a hormonal frenzy, and for a moment, he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from imagining what it would be like to watch her silky dress fall to the beige carpet of his bedroom, to make love to her. But the thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared, with Logan scolding himself for thinking of her in that way. She was one of his best friends, and he wasn't James.

But she was clinging to his neck so tightly, almost as if she didn’t want to let him go, and it was making him go insane. The beachy coconut-vanilla scent of her perfume flooded his nostrils as she leaned in closer, letting her head rest against his chest as her eye fluttered closed. It seemed so easy for her to be this close to him, like second-nature, so why couldn’t she make the first move? Why did Logan have to put himself on the line?

He knew in his heart that he was tired of waiting, that he needed her on this greater, almost cellular level that he couldn’t shake.

As they danced together beneath a sky made of pink gauze streamers and gleaming silver cardboard stars, the lilac glow clung to their fair skin like something ethereal. Logan was glad he’d taken the risk of asking her to be his date, but he didn’t know if he could tow the line any further, if he had the courage to ask her to be his girlfriend for more than just tonight.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he wasn’t sure he knew how.

After a couple more hours of dancing, everyone migrated back to their tables, waiting to hear who would be crowned prom king and queen this year. Logan's gaze wandered to James, who was practically hanging off the edge of his seat, his features glittering with anticipation. There was no doubt in any of the boys' minds that James wouldn't win prom king. It was as if he had been training for this title since birth. He was basically the total prom king package: flawless looks, impeccable fashion sense, stunning charisma, and he happened to had chosen a worthy prom date in the form of the platinum blonde-headed Jennifer.

So of course, none of the faces at their table showed any trace of shock when James Diamond's name was called over the loudspeaker.

But James's reaction was on an entirely different level. As soon as he heard his name, he practically erupted with glee as if he'd just won the lottery. His face glowed as he struggled to make his steps towards the stage appear more nonchalant, with Jennifer holding onto his arm reluctantly. What they had wasn't love, it was purely a social status arrangement.

After the crowning of prom king and queen and the traditional prom court dance, the night drew to a close, and Logan and Kandi were standing in the hallway outside Kandi’s apartment again. The dim light made her skin appear warm, softening her expression as both of them tried to find the right words to say.

She was the one to break the silence. “I really had fun tonight. Thanks for taking me, it was really sweet of you.”

“No problem,” he chuckled, his arm reaching to wipe the beads of sweat that were beginning to form along the nape of his neck. “I had a good time myself.”

“So I’m not the most awful date in the world.” She smiled to herself. The words hung in the space between them, the air around them heavy with expectancy.

“Nope,” he agreed, as if she needed the assurance.

Silence lapsed between them before she slowly leaned forward, the scent of her causing his thoughts to run rampant once more. He could feel the warmth of her breath in waves against his neck. Her lips grazed against his cheekbone, and he could’ve told her right then if his mouth would cooperate. He longed to whisper the words in her ear, but he knew if he opened his mouth, they were more likely to tumble out in a rush, if they came out at all.

“Kandi, I….I…” he began, his voice wavering as he neared the point of no return.

Her chocolate eyes were lined with questions as they met his. “What is it?” Her voice was soft, serene, almost encouraging.

“I had a great time with you tonight.”

Maybe Logan was just fooling himself, but he swore he saw a trace of disappointment flicker in her deep irises.

“Me too.” A faint smile crept across her lips as she reached for the doorknob. “See you tomorrow, Logan.”

All he could say was “bye” as he offered her a slight wave, his eyes focused on her as she pulled the door closed behind her.

Even though he hadn’t been able to muster up the words, there was still a bounce in his step. The remnants of a smile stuck to his lips as he made his way down the hall.

Maybe he’d missed his chance tonight, but tomorrow was a brand new day, and he felt like he had all the time in the world.