What Senior Prom Taught Me

I smoothed the black sack dress over my boyish figure, staring at myself in Natalie’s full-length mirror. I scowled as I could see my three friends getting ready behind me. There were some benefits to having the body of a pre-pubescent boy—like being able to get away without wearing a bra, and being able to buy cheaper clothes in the children’s section—but I couldn’t help feel a slight pang of jealousy staring at the tight dresses that hugged the curves of my friends, accentuating their womanly forms.

“Well, I’m not going to look any better than this,” I shrugged, patting down my hair that I had brought under some semblance of control with the rare brushing.

“Lina, you look so cool!” Natalie whined after finishing putting on a bight red lipstick that matched her mini dress. “Like a really cool grunge rock chick.”

“Hah! Thanks! Shall we?” I gestured to the door. The party had started at 9 and it was now 9:30. We were officially fashionably late.

Natalie, Rachel, and Anna nodded in agreement; quickly putting the finishes touches on their makeup. We scurried down the stairs and gave a quick goodbye to Natalie’s parents with promises to be careful.

The large line of cars out front were the dead give away that 11 Jason Drive was the house we were standing in front of. Walking up to the front door, we could hear the thumping of the bass and the din of many conversations crammed into one space.

“Should we knock?” Rachel questioned as we stood outside the front door.

“I don’t think anyone would hear us,” Natalie replied. “Let’s just try the door,” she twisted the knob and the door swung open.

We stepped into the house and immediately the smell of cheap beer filled my nose. The sounds of the party dulled my senses, giving one the effect of walking through a fish bowl.

“Hot boys really do travel in packs,” Natalie mused, looking out among the party-goers as we fixed ourselves drinks.

I had to admit that there was truth to Rachel’s claim. There were definitely enough attractive boys at this party for twenty-five Annas and every other girl attending.

“Should we mingle?” Rachel smiled deviously, the smile reaching her bright green eyes that were accented by a smoky cat eye.

“You guys go on ahead,” I waved them away. “I’m going to go find Dean.”

I pushed through the throng of partygoers; thankful I decided to wear my beat-up black Keds. The floor was already sticky with spilled beer and spirits. Pushing through the throng of people, I followed the natural flow of traffic to the basement level: a furnished rumpus room of suburban splendor with plushy couches, the largest flat screen TV I’d ever seen, and both a pool and ping pong table. I spotted Dean lounging against the pool table, chatting with a bunch of equally attractive guys. Rachel’s theory really was proving to be fact. I felt slightly nervous as I headed in his direction. Although Dean and I had been friends for the year-and-a-half that we worked together at Shores, we had been strictly work friends. This would be the first time we were interacting off of the grocery store property, and it was always a little awkward. It was almost like the first time you see a teacher outside of school. However, there weren’t any teachers that I know of that looked as good as Dean did in his fitted jeans and flannel.

“Hey!” he smiled and reached out to wrap me into a hug as I approached him. “You made it! Did you come alone?” he questioned, concern lacing his facial expression as he looked beyond me to find no one with me.

“Hey, if there’s one thing I can do occasionally, it’s follow a rule. I brought three,” I held up three fingers for emphasis, waiving them close to Dean’s face. “Hot ladies. They’re mingling,” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

Dean laughed even though he rolled his eyes at me.

“Did you pregame or something?”

“Damn! That would have been smart. Speaking of which, I need a drink!”

“I’ll come with,” Dean stayed close behind me as we worked our way back to the kitchen.

The alcohol selection that was laid out in front of me was bleak. There were several handles of cheap liquor with no mixers and more cases of cheap beer than I had ever seen before. I weighed my options, deciding that I would take a tequila shot to numb my senses slightly before grabbing a beer. I stared at the can of Keystone Light with one nostril raised. I wasn’t a huge fan of beer, especially when it tasted like pee. I understood the idea of it being cheap, but who wanted to drink something that tasted like human excrement? I suppose it didn’t matter after a can or two. I snapped the tab open, and drank a large sip quickly. My logic failed me as I wretched slightly. I thought if I drank it fast and in big sips I wouldn’t taste it, but it clearly wasn’t the case.

“Watch it there slugger,” Dean punched me lightly in the shoulder as had just watched me wretch once with the shot and twice with my first sip of beer. “You don’t want to get too crazy here.”

“I’m trying not to taste this,” I choked out between two more large gulps.

“Yeah, this stuff is pretty shitty,” he stared at the can, shrugged, and took a drink before leading me back to the party.

I followed him as we traipsed around; he, talking and mingling, me, getting introduced and inserting witty dialogue when necessary. And, in the many minutes in which no one was bothering me, I managed to choke down two and a half more beers.

“I haven’t seen my friends in a while,” I slurred slightly as we found ourselves back in the kitchen. “That could mean something really bad or something really good,” I staggered in to Dean slightly as I had lost the motor skills to wiggle my eyebrows and walk forward at the same time. “I should probably go check on them.”

“Let’s check outside,” Dean nodded his head towards the glass sliding doors at the opposite end of the kitchen.

I nodded and followed him out to the equally lavish backyard that could have possibly made Prince William jealous. We walked onto a patio equipped the dream grill set up of dads everywhere. The patio, littered with lawn furniture that looked more comfortable than my own bed, opened up to maybe the largest in-ground pool I’d ever seen outside of a gymnasium or public setting. Beyond it was a yard that seemed to stretch on endlessly. I obviously didn’t know this Mike kid, but I wished that I did. His pool alone seemed worth the friendship.

“Whoa,” I breathed, stepping to the edge of the pool. The cool April air breezed around us, sobering me up ever so slightly in tandem with sending chills of anger down my spin. This friend of Dean’s couldn’t have thrown a party one month later?

“Yeah, Mike’s pool parties are always the best.”

“Is he single?”

“You don’t even know who he is.”

“I don’t need to! I only need to access to this pool!” I spread my arms outside and turned to face Dean, a wide smile plastered on my face.

Dean chuckled, amusement shining in his eyes as he took a step closer to me, bridging the small gap between us. He placed a hand on my hip, pulling me in for a soft kiss. He pulled back briefly to gauge my reaction, a satisfied smile on his face. I smiled back not quite realizing what was going on, but not totally opposed to it. I quickly pressed my lips against his to signify that I was okay with the impromptu make out session that he had initiated. I wasn’t going to deny that Dean was attractive, and in my drunken state I wasn’t using the critical thinking skills that would allow me to weigh the repercussions of making out with a boy I would have to see at work in two day’s time. I wrapped my arms around Dean’s neck, deepening the kiss as his arm snaked around my waist to pull me in even closer. Dean made the move to shift his tongue into my mouth, causing me to clamp my mouth down and squeal. Dean ended up licking my lips, which might have in fact been slightly grosser than having his tongue in my mouth, but I digress.

“What’s wrong?” Dean pulled back breathlessly.

“Nothing! I’m ticklish,” I quickly replied, smashing my mouth back into his. Maybe not the most elegant move, but it was easier than trying to explain my qualms with open mouth kissing. I knew that French Kissing was necessary step in the making out process, but it was always a little a gross to me. It was literally someone invading your mouth with their tongue, and tongues were wet, hot, and slimey. It didn’t scream sexy to me.

I wound my fingers into Dean’s hair as I pressed my lips even harder into his. He pushed my lips open and I suppressed the urge to laugh, allowing him to slide his tongue around my mouth as his hands began to explore my body. I sighed against his lips, as he began to slowly caress my back giving me a tingling feeling. As I swirled my tongue around Dean’s mouth one of his hands inched further up my back and towards the front of my body.

“Are you okay?” Dean held up his hands as if I had just pulled a gun on him as I sprang away from him with a squeal.

“Sorry! My phone,” I fished in my dress pocket for my cell that had vibrated just before his right hand found it’s way to my right breast. I was enjoying making out with Dean, but was slightly relieved that my phone provided excuse to break apart.

Pulling out my phone, the lock screen was lit with a text from Natalie: Rachel is really drunk. I think it’s time for us to go. Where are you?

Coming now. Meet you at the front door?

“I gotta go,” I smiled apologetically. “My friends want to leave.”

“So let them,” Dean closed the space between us, wrapping his arms around my waist one more and littering my neck with kisses.

“I can’t. We’re like the army: no man left behind.”

“Please? I’ll walk you home later,” he murmured into the crevasse of my where my neck met my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I squirmed out of his grasp, “I’m staying at my friend’s house so I have to leave with them,” I planted a quick kiss on lips before scurrying away, leaving Dean in the backyard before he could make a further case.

Oh Lina, I reprimanded myself as I pushed through the crowd for the last time that night to meet my friends. I had just found a way to make my lame after school job complicated.