Tabbie wismer tabb111e
posting a short story on here... go easy on me!
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It’s a lot easier to get away with listening to music in class when the teacher doesn’t even realize you’re there. Which is most of the time. Sitting in the back, you can have the Diskman on the desk and everything. They don’t see. Maybe in freshman year they’d care. But a senior with such little time left? They don’t even bother to say hi when you walk in the door. Fine with me, though. I have more on my mind than some teacher who wouldn’t know me from Cynthia in their fourth period.
I had just pressed play on my music when Brandon walked into class, taking his normal seat next to me– as much as I wished he’d sit somewhere else today. He settled into the seat, the desk almost comically too small for his long, tall frame. He looked over at me with a smile, his blue eyes as vibrant as ever. “Hey, Val,” he greeted.
I could not share in his enthusiasm. I simply nodded and replied, “Hey,” before turning my attention back to the window.
“Uh… what’s wrong, man? You seem… sad.” I couldn’t see his face, but he sounded confused, and that probably meant he was doing that ******, pathetic, adorable head tilt he did when he didn’t get something.
I force myself to look over at him again, shaking my head as if that would convince him. “Nothing, nothing… really.”
Brandon opened his mouth to reply, but then Carli walked in and that would prove the end of the conversation for now. She took the desk next to him, his eyes lit up as he greeted her, gently pulled the baby pink backpack off of her shoulders and slung an arm around her when she settled in her seat.
I watched out of the corner of my eye. And I told myself I didn’t care. But I cared. A lot. I turned to stare out the window again, hurt but slightly relieved– at least I didn’t have to explain myself, because now he was preoccupied with his girl. I pressed play on my Diskman again, not caring about whatever the teacher was going to yap about.
Golden Valley High School was already **** as a school, but it was only amplified fifty times over now by the fact that Brandon had essentially abandoned me for Carli. At least before he would come sit behind the stairway with me during lunch… Now I’m just alone, hoping nobody would spot me. I wasn’t even eating, just hiding from the student body of idiots. By now, usually Brandon would’ve made me head out behind the school while he smoked, but… those days were gone, I guess. He was probably sitting with Carli instead now.
Suddenly, the light from the windows was blocked, and there stood Carli herself and some of her girl posse. I forced myself to look up and meet her gaze, which was rather taunting.
And I really couldn’t do much about it. Nobody would believe me. Carli had perfect grades and was up for valedictorian, wore bright clothes, and had the sweet girl act down flat. I didn’t say anything because I simply felt I had nothing to contribute, and I’d just let her do her bragging.
“Hi, Valencia. I had a question… Do you have a date for the prom?” her grin is wicked, and I know she’s just trying to rub it in, or whatever.
“I don’t think I’m even gonna go, so what do you care?” I reply, trying to stay cynical and cold, but knowing she’s got the better of me.
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m going with Brandon, but you know that already,” followed by Carli’s nerd chic girl gang breaking up into giggles.
“Awesome. Have fun,” I stand up, slinging my bag over my shoulder, trying to give her the coldest shoulder I possibly can as I walk away.
To my surprise, they don’t follow me. They continue to laugh and ridicule me in the stairway, but they don’t trail after me. I cross my arms, staring down at my Doc Martens instead of being responsible and looking where I’m going. I start to wonder why he didn’t choose me. I mean, we were a thousand times closer than him and Carli were. Sure, she helped him do calculus homework, and she would call him at LEAST three times a week– often when we were on the phone together– but I understood him better. We spent more time together.
The bell rang and interrupted my wallowing, and I realized I was supposed to have gone to my history class by now. And I decided that sounded torturous while I was already brooding over my losses, so I decided to go hide. Maybe I’d ditch the rest of the day. It’s not like we had much longer before graduating and getting the **** out of here anyway.
The halls were mostly empty save for the occasional guy or girl scurrying hurriedly to class. I passed by the various classrooms with my head down, still thinking… until I almost slammed myself into a locker from being so spaced out. That managed to snap me back to reality. I recollected my head, reminding myself that this is the last time and place I need to have a grievous injury.
Then I heard someone else slam into a locker, and I had to check myself to make sure I hadn’t accidentally hit my head. Reassuring myself I had no cuts or bruises or missing teeth, I looked over to see if I could find the source of the noise, and my eyes might as well have burst out of the sockets to see Brandon and Carli going at it against the shiny red metal doors. Like, tongues shoved down each others’ throats and everything. I wanted to die.
I concealed myself behind an adjacent wall, but I wasn’t strong enough to resist, and I peeked out at them again. It was cliche, but I had a mix of emotions inside at this– disappointment (because I’m jealous), disgust (because it’s school and they should get a room), exhaustion (because I hadn’t slept more than four hours a night after this entire situation started). I turned back around, becoming one with the wall again as I considered my options. I was ready to walk away until I heard the click-click-clack of heels on the speckled linoleum, and my heart sunk. A teacher.
But as I caught a glimpse of said teacher– it was Mrs. Chamberlain, my creative writing teacher– I realized I could game this to my advantage. As she passed, she smiled and waved to me.
“Hello, Valencia,” but before she could continue, I pointed towards the public display. “Hello… uh… there’s a situation.”
Her brown eyes followed my finger to the couple kissing passionately against the locker, and her jaw genuinely dropped.
“T-thank you for letting me know, Valencia. I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” and she immediately headed towards the pair. I watched with a barely-restrained mischievous grin on my face, feeling rather vindicated as she chewed the couple out and forced them to follow her to the office. They walked off with an air of absolute shame, and it was enough to console me for a while longer, and I finally turned to walk out.
I had ditched that hellhole for the rest of the day and headed home. I could take advantage of the fact that nobody was home and wouldn’t be for a while. I had probably watched about four hours of South Park reruns until I heard the doorbell ring. I groaned– I was feeling too lazy to get up– but I hoisted myself off the couch and trudged to the door.
It was Brandon. My eyes widened, and I wondered if he knew I was behind the makeout incident.
All I could do was try to be cool. “Hey man,” I greeted him, my disposition nonchalant and almost bored.
He looked ******, and it almost freaked me out. “I ******’ hate that place, Val,” he answered.
“Yeah, nice to see you too. I’m good, what about you?” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. A hello would be nice, y'know?
Normally he would at least crack a smile, but his expression only soured. “I got ******’ detention for a week, dude. ‘Cause that ***** Mrs. Chamberlain caught me and Carli kissing in the hallway during class.”
I wanted to laugh, because the entire situation still thrilled me, but I choked it down and simply nodded. “****, that *****. Hope you didn’t have any plans.”
He scoffed and shook his head in irritation before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I was supposed to help Carli pick out matching outfits for prom tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to reschedule,” he grumbled while lighting the slender white stick.
“Bro, you probably shouldn’t smoke on my porch. Not after last time. You almost burned my house down,” I smirked, my tone teasing.
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” though he did move off onto the driveway. I shut the door and followed, my eyes tracing over his baggy jeans and worn out Offspring T-shirt, the combat boots, the backwards hat of some baseball team that I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with.
He stopped somewhere by the garage and took a drag from the cigarette. “So, Val. I was wondering. If you could take anybody to prom, who would you choose? I feel like I haven’t asked since, like, sophomore year, and I think it would make more sense to ask when prom is, you know, a few weeks away,” he chuckled, the grey smoke filtering out of his nose and mouth as he laughed softly.
I knew my answer, but he couldn’t, so I gave an alternate answer. “Uh, Billy Corgan. But not current, bald Billy… but, like, Gish-era Billy with the long hair. He was super hot,” I grinned. “Or, if it can include fictional characters, Todd, the, like, ****** video store clerk from Dr. Katz.”
Brandon laughed again. “Yeah, I know you’re into that. But I meant, like, a real person. Like someone from school or whatever.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Uh, how about nobody? I hate that place and all the people in it.”
“Oh, come on, Val, nobody? I knew you were picky, but there’s really not a single dude you’re hoping to score a date with at Golden Valley?”
I shook my head. “Nope, not any of them. They’re all weird. In a bad way.” Technically, I was telling the truth– I wouldn’t go with any of them, but I’d go with him… but that wasn’t an option, I suppose.
He let out yet another huff of laughter. “Fair enough. I just figured maybe you’d find someone you could put up with for at least a night. Like how I found Carli.”
Hearing him mention Carli made my smile drop. Before I could think, I responded. “Hm, yeah, well, why aren't you with Carli now? Since you’ve been inseparable lately.”
His eyebrows raised, probably in surprise at my somewhat bitter tone. “Oh, uh, she had to go home for dinner or whatever.”
I nodded, accepting this information begrudgingly. “Good to know. So, will you be heading out soon to see her?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty shaken up about this whole incident, so I guess I should go… comfort her and all that.”
Of course he was ditching me to go check on her. I crossed my arms, trying to play it off as a casual movement. “Yeah, yeah, cool. Guess someone like her isn’t used to a thing like that.” There was a moment of tense silence until I spoke up again, ready to get rid of him. “We should probably get out of the driveway, my mom’ll probably be home soon,” though that was a lie as far as I knew.
He nodded, dropped the cigarette and stomped it out. “Yeah, I should probably head over to Carli’s anyway… see you later, Val,” he half-smiled with a wave before walking off just as fast as he’d shown up.
I had taken a few steps toward the front door, but stopped to look back and watch as he walked away, presumably toward Carli’s. I leaned against one of the porch’s columns, my arms crossed as I watched his tall, slender figure grow smaller and smaller into the distance… and I started to feel sort of sad again. I guess the rush of making him and Carli suffer had already worn off. I sighed heavily, walking back inside with a sense of defeat.
Inside the house, a voicemail awaited me from Mom.
‘Hi, Valencia. Just calling to let you know that I’m not gonna be home until tomorrow, since your Aunt Maureen asked if I could watch the dogs for her while she goes to some party over in Greenfield. You know how she is about those dogs… so, please, dear, make sure to eat, and please try not to mope around anymore. If you want money to order or anything, feel free to go into the bedside drawer in my room. Love you, sweetie! See you soon!’
I picked up the phone, but I didn't call Mom. Instead, I called the only girl I could count on.
“Hello? Val, is that you?” her voice echoed through the receiver.
“Aysel, you should come over,” I replied. “My mom isn’t here. Also I kinda need to, like, not be alone right now.”
“Is this about Brandon?” Aysel sighed. “But yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Cool, see you soon…” I trailed off a bit before hanging up the phone.
The cool thing is that Aysel really was there in about a minute, because she only lived a street over. And as she walked in, wearing the winking kitty cat tee I had helped her pick out at the mall a few months ago, her tanned skin darkened by the house’s dim lighting, I felt a wave of relief cross me. When all else failed, I had Aysel.
“Yo, Val. So, is this about Brandon or what?” She raised an eyebrow at me, but she had a barely there smile.
“Yeah… it’s been… a weird day,” I stuttered out.
Aysel sinks down into the couch. “Tell me… let it out,” she pressed, as discussing the Brandon situation had been commonplace these past couple of weeks.
“I’m just… ******, I guess,” I flop onto the couch beside her, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, I’ve been the one that’s there, but he still goes for that Carli *****,” I gritted my teeth a bit, growing more irritated. “And today, oh my god, you should’ve seen it, Aysel. They were straight up making out in the hallway. And nobody else was around, I was the only one seeing it until my creative writing teacher came out of nowhere. I was really mad, right? So I snitched on them and she made them go to the office,” I smirked, chuckling darkly. “It was actually pretty awesome.”
Aysel shared my amusement and laughed loudly. “He deserved it!”
“Right?! And then he had the audacity to show up here and complain to me after abandoning me for her for days.”
“He’s an idiot. If I was a man, I’d be terrified of ever losing you.”
“I really don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably kill myself.”
Aysel chuckled again. “You cannot kill yourself over this. Don’t let that lanky idiot or that psycho mathlete win.”
“I wish you were still at Golden Valley. It ****** at least slightly less **** when you were there.”
“Yeah, well, my dad was pretty ****** after the Mark Johnston incident, so…,” she smirks. “Alternative school for me…”
“But it was Mark’s fault,” I rolled my eyes, ready to rehash the same drama that we’d been discussing for the past year– but I digressed. “Man, senior year has been so *** without you there. Seriously. All I had was ******’ Brandon and he abadoned my *** for Carli.”
“Maybe we could hit him with my brother’s car,” she grins.
“Maybe we could put cyanide in all of his cigarettes.”
“Maybe we could slash his tires.”
“Or maybe… we could brainstorm while I order takeout?”
It was a good night. Aysel knew how to make things better. I had done it when she broke up with that ****** Eric, and now she was comforting me. She stayed over, and we both ended up ditching our respective classes to get breakfast. And, over shared gossip and chocolate chip pancakes, things felt less gloomy. As we discussed our plans for the day– the record store to search for CDs, sitting in my room and pondering life, and of course, no class– I noticed ****** Carli and her right-hand-woman, Tiffany, walking in. I put my fork down, my eyes narrowing.
Aysel followed my gaze, then scoffed. “Oh look, Miss Congeniality has graced us with her presence,” she rolls her eyes.
I watched as the pair sat down across the cafe and looked down at the menus. Carli looked like she had been crying, and Tiffany made sure to state over and over again– loudly, mind you– ‘It’s not your fault, girl.’
“More like it is your fault, girl,” Aysel whispered to me. I half-smiled, staring at them a bit longer before turning back to my plate.
“Fighting over a guy is ****** usually. Except for this. I think I’m totally valid.”
“I mean, you are. They’d, like, never spoken until they had calculus together this year, right? And you’ve been into him way longer.” She paused as she cut off another piece of French toast. “Actually, I bet his parents paid him to pick her as a date. You said he originally didn’t want to go at all, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me he wasn’t gonna go up until maybe three weeks ago. Maybe he is being paid,” I snickered.
Aysel shared my laughter. “I mean, it would make sense, considering they never really started hanging out until a few months ago, right? Maybe he’ll use the money to buy you an apology present.”
I chuckled at the thought. “Yeah, right. A girl can dream, I guess.”
Hours later, against the warm April sun, my mom confronted me as I sprawled across the couch.
“C’mon, Val, you have to go to prom. I get that you’re sad about this Brandon thing, but you only get one chance, and you have to take it. What if you regret it later?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t have a date. Plus, why would I really wanna spend more time with these ******** I hate?”
Mom grimaces slightly at my harsh words. “Because maybe it’ll still be fun…?”
I simply shook my head.
“But think about it, sweetheart. You can dress up! And so what if you don’t have a date? Why don’t you bring Aysel?”
“I dunno,” I shrugged again, feeling completely apathetic to the idea. “I think after Brandon chose Carli, I just don’t care anymore.”
“Oh, honey, he didn’t ‘choose’ anyone. Just because he’s going to prom with her doesn’t mean he likes her more than you.”
I let out a small laugh of disbelief. “I think that’s exactly what it means.”
I hear her sigh with defeat, yet she makes one last attempt to convince me. “You know what, Val? I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take you dress shopping right now. And if you see a dress that you really, genuinely love, no matter the price, I’ll buy it for you– but you have to go to the prom. Deal?”
Something about this bargain struck a chord, and it’s not like I had anything better to do that night. So, I sat up and looked her in the eye. “Deal.”
She raised her brows as if surprised her negotiations worked, and a grin crossed her face. “I’ll get my keys.”
The mall was, surprisingly, not particularly busy for a Friday night, but it still had all the classic elements– the irresistible soft pretzel and Cinnabon scents lacing the air, teenage friend groups representing every and all cliques, moms trying to make their small children cooperate while she picked clothes for them. Pop songs echoed through the wide, store-lined corridors. Mom pulled me into that store that has all the pretty, fancy, shimmery formal dresses, and I was honestly a bit overwhelmed at the sheer amount of options.
“Go crazy, girlfriend,” Mom encouraged me, sort of pushing me towards one of the racks. Before I could reply, she walked away, settling onto a bench near the storefront. I sighed softly, turning my head towards the various dresses. Digging through my size section, there was so much variety– satin, tulle, cotton, spandex, pink and yellow and white and red and rainbow… and yet none of it was something I wanted to wear. Initially, I felt sort of relieved, because then I didn’t have to go. That’s when I saw the dress.
It was floor-length, with a red satin material under a black, mesh-type outer layer, adorned with velvet swirl designs and a spaghetti-strapped halter neck.
“Guess you’ll be going after all,” Mom’s voice echoed behind me, and I could hear the ‘told you so’ smirk in her tone.
“I- uh… yeah, I guess you’re right…” I huffed out defeatedly, my eyes still glued to the dress.
“Why don’t you go try it on? Just to make sure it doesn’t need to be altered or anything like that,” Mom smiled softly, taking hold of my arm to lead me towards the small dressing room area.
Like it was some cheesy high school movie, it was a perfect fit. It accentuated… everything… very nicely. I actually felt sort of pretty. I walked out of the room to show Mom, feeling a bit shy but overall pleased.
Her face lit up, and from the looks of it, I think she was happier than I was. “Oh, Valencia… you look so beaut—”
“Woah, Val, you look great!” A deep, familiar voice cut off Mom’s gushing. Imagine my shock to see Brandon standing nearby, carrying what was presumably a tux over his arm. “Seriously, that dress is like… you. In dress form,” he chuckled out awkwardly.
I cursed internally– this must’ve been the time he and Carli rescheduled their prom shopping to.
As if Mom wasn’t aware of the entire prom fiasco, she immediately began bombarding Brandon with her attention. “Oh, Brandon! Hi, dear! I haven’t seen you in a little while, how are you?”
He answered, but I tuned them out. I walked back into the dressing room, and suddenly, despite the dress looking the exact same as it did before, I felt less pretty. If I was pretty, he would’ve asked me to go with him instead of Carli. If I was pretty, he probably would’ve asked me out long before that. If I was pretty, I wouldn’t be here right now.
I unzipped the dress, hanging it back up on the hanger. I started feeling like I should just tell Mom, ‘Thanks, but no,’ and retreat back into the solitude of home, continuing with my plan to skip prom. But just as I walked back out, Mom scooped up the dress into her arms and immediately headed towards the register. My fate was sealed. I was going, whether I liked it or not.
Brandon was still there, much to my chagrin. He smiled, and that smile made irritation bubble up in me. As unreasonable as it was, there was something about the fact that I was hurting and he was grinning innocently like nothing had happened that made me want to scream.
“So… guess you’re coming to prom after all, hm?” His smile morphed into a teasing smirk.
I crossed my arms, looking over at where Mom was paying for the dress. “Yeah, she’s makin’ me go. I guess if the worst comes to worst, I can Irish goodbye everyone and go somewhere else. Or I could fake being sick.”
“Yeah, guess so,” he laughed a bit, a light, almost imperceptible laugh. It was more of a huff of air than anything. “Honestly, I think you should go. I mean, I’m going, and I said I wasn’t for the entirety of high school.”
“Yeah, I know you did… but now you have Carli,” I sighed.
“Well, fair enough. She’s the one who convinced me to change my mind.”
“I’m guessing she’s here somewhere?” I gestured vaguely towards the racks of dresses.
Brandon nodded. “Yeah, she decided on blue for our prom outfits and now she’s freaking out and running around the store to find the right shade of it or whatever.”
“Cool, cool… I’m sure you’ll look… nice,” I force myself to give him a supportive grin.
“Thanks, Val. I’m glad you changed your mind about going. It’ll be fun.”
As the words left his lips, I wondered if he had even listened to anything I had just said. I stared up at him for a minute, and it truly felt like time had paused. I tried to regulate the tension I was feeling before fabricating another fake answer. “…Yeah, it’ll be cool, hopefully.”
“Brandon!” Carli’s voice called loudly from the other side of the store, and I could see she was holding a slinky, royal blue evening gown up, probably wanting his opinion on it.
“Be there in a second, okay, babe?” He yelled back to her before shooting me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Val. Gotta go help Carli. See you later, okay?” And before I could open my mouth, he was rushing off to Carli’s side.
I probably looked ****** standing there, staring after the pair with my mouth agape. It was Mom who finally snapped me back to reality as she walked back towards me, my beautiful prom dress in one of those nice, striped shopping bags. She saw my staring and looked towards Brandon and Carli, then gave me a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Let’s go get pizza.”
The pizza was good. I spilled Pepsi on my pants, but they’re black so it was whatever. I successfully swallowed my tears until we got home, and I finally spilled them into my pillow. I tried to bully my mind; remind myself that crying over a boy was dumb, but it didn’t do the trick like it usually did. After a few minutes of soaking the red silk pillowcase, I looked up to the posters plastered all over the wall, my vision bleary from the tears. Most of them were guys. Guys who were much more accomplished, much more interesting, much more handsome than Brandon. But still I cried. Because, in that moment, what did it matter? He was still my guy, even if that wasn’t factual anymore.
I jumped when the phone began to ring, and without even really thinking to check, I picked up the receiver.
“H-hello?” my voice was shaky as I mumbled into the phone, trying to sound as put-together as possible.
“Hey, Val,” Aysel’s voice spoke up on the other end. “I just got off the phone with Brandon. Said he saw you at the mall,” I could practically hear the smirk on her face. “So I wanted to ask what happened. He didn’t say much about it.”
I swiped at the tear tracks on my cheeks as if she could see them. “Y-yeah, I saw him. My mom is making me go, so I had to get a dress. And he was there with Carli. He saw me trying on the dress and said I looked good or some ****, then he got all buddy-buddy with my mom,” I responded. “It ******. A lot. I kinda wanted to engage in some self-immolation.”
Aysel snickered on the other end. “Clearly. I can tell you’re… displeased.”
“What gave it away? The sniffling? The shake in my voice?”
“No, that you didn’t totally fly off the handle and start talking five miles a minute at the mention of his name.”
“Okay, you got me there.”
“So, you’re being forced to go to prom?”
“Yep. Mom was all like, ‘you’re gonna regret it when you’re my age,’ or whatever,” I sighed, doing a half-assed imitation of her voice.
“That *****. Want me to be your makeshit date?”
“Don’t you mean ‘makeshift?’”
“No, makeshit. I want to cause problems. I have some unfinished business with Mark Johnston.”
“Sounds fun. Guess you’re my plus one.”
“Hey, that rhymed!”
“Maybe I should start a rap career.”
“That Carli diss track is going to be legendary.”
“More like Brandon diss track at this rate. Or both. Something about two birds, one stone.”
“Should we pull a Carrie and pour pig blood on both of them?”
“Nah, pigs are too good for that. Maybe just food coloring? Or used tampons.”
Aysel cackled on the other end. “Yeah, the tampons. Perfect.”
“Yeah, it’d be satisfying.”
“When’s the prom, anyway?”
“Day after tomorrow. Saturday.”
“And all three of you waited this long to find outfits?”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going, and Brandon and Carli had the whole detention thing, plus apparently she was being really picky about finding the perfect dress.”
“Guess I’ll just use what I wore to my school’s prom. And that should be indicative of what she’ll be like if he marries her.”
I snorted a bit with laughter. “You’d think. Sorry for the short notice… but it’ll be sick now that you’re going.”
Prom came quickly. The thought of it was a little less dreadful with Aysel by my side. She came over, we got ready in my room, playing albums and reminiscing on high school as a whole. We almost twinned, her purple dress heavily complimenting mine. Of course, Mom insisted on several pictures that she’ll probably forget about by next Tuesday. We went to dinner beforehand. Mom insisted we go somewhere nice, so we did– and in the dim, red velvet plastered booth, I was actually sort of happy I went. I looked cute, I was with my best friend, and I wasn’t thinking about Brandon for the time being. We got to eat steak and pasta and those chocolate lava cakes. We probably disturbed the other customers with how much and how loud we laughed. It was the best I had felt since Brandon had decided to go with Carli.
Prom was being held at some banquet hall not too far from the school. It was moderately upscale, probably appropriate for a high school prom. Some radio hit R&B song with suggestive lyrics that the teachers obviously did not pick up on pumped through speakers inside. Even the rocks-for-brains jocks were dressed up.
“It’s honestly kinda weird to see everyone looking so… nice,” I mused, trying to make sure Aysel could hear me over the booming music.
“Yeah, usually they dress like wannabe gangbangers or like they rolled out of bed, so… I’ve gotta give them some credit,” Aysel said, her expression showing genuine awe.
“Y’know, I’m really not gonna miss these people. At all.”
“No ****. They’re idiots.”
Then I spotted Brandon and Carli. They were getting their picture taken in front of one of those typical prom moon things. “Don’t look now…”
And, despite my words, Aysel turned around to look over at them. “Ha! They look… fashionably challenged.”
“You think we should go take pictures too? We’d outfashion them for sure.”
Without a word, Aysel was up and heading for the line. I followed suit, but I was unable to tear my gaze from the couple. They held hands as they walked out of the photo area, giggling and sharing ******, sickly sweet smiles. Now, instead of wanting to die on the spot, I wanted them to die on the spot.
“Hey, Val, stop pouting and come take a photo,” Aysel waved me over behind the camera. As we posed together, you could see the mixed reactions on the other peoples’ faces– confusion, shock, judgement, disgust, even amusement. It took me a second to realize that we were apparently the first non-couple to take a picture here, and they thought we were genuinely each others’ dates.
“Ewww, lesbians! Disgusting freaks!” a voice called from the line.
“Is that MARK JOHNSTON?!” Aysel yelled, and I realized **** was about to go down until a chaperone came over to reprimand him– so I seized the opportunity for us to sneak away and outside.
The stone steps served as our seating, and only a few other attendees littered the courtyard– mostly kissing couples. Aysel and I watched and made fun of them– maybe it soothed our singleness.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little glad I went,” I finally admitted. “But not that much. We’d still be having fun somewhere else. But also, I kinda am happy.”
“I think we’ve made the most of it,” Aysel nodded.
“Yo, Val! Aysel!” Brandon’s familiar voice called to us from behind.
“Wow, he knows *********** a moment,” Aysel scoffed, low enough that only I could hear.
We turned to face him, watching as he sat down by me and lit the tip of his cigarette. “Guess you didn’t play sick.”
I shook my head. “Nope. I was a big girl and showed up,” I responded with a nice helping of sarcasm.
Brandon chuckled. “That’s the Val we all love.”
Even if it was innocuous to him, it stung inside. Love? Then why Carli and not me?
His eyes made their way over to Aysel, who was absentmindedly checking out her nails. “And I see you brought Aysel. It’s like the group’s back together.”
“I mean, not quite. There’s no Mark, and I doubt Aysel would ever allow that to happen again,” I smirk, elbowing her arm lightly to emphasise my teasing. She grumbled something about wanting to stab him, which made Brandon giggle.
“Okay, true. No Mark. But close enough, right?” He took a long drag before offering the cigarette to us. I shook my head, but Aysel reached out and took it, bringing it to her burgundy lips.
“So… where’s that Carli, Brandon?” Aysel raised an eyebrow, ever the instigator.
“The bathroom. She went with some of her friends and you know how long that can take,” he grinned before taking the cigarette back from Aysel.
“Hm. How’s she working for you as a date?” she pushed.
“Actually…” Brandon trailed off. His tone was unclear, and his emotions sounded mixed. My heart might as well have stopped in its tracks. Is this it? Is this the moment where he decides Carli isn’t for him? Where he realizes it was me all along?
“Actually…?” Aysel echoed, trying to get him to provide a real answer. I held my breath. I tried to look nonchalant, brushing some hair out of my face, but I could feel my hands shake. I was finally getting my fairytale ending…
“…pretty good. She’s really sweet. I like her a lot. I’m glad I got to go with her. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy she convinced me to come! She’s awesome,” he flashes a smile, and it’s the most genuine I’ve ever seen.
My heart dropped into my stomach, then into my pelvic floor, then fell out of me entirely. I hoped my face didn’t show too much of my sheer, unadulterated disappointment. What about that happy ending?
“That’s cool,” Aysel responded with a lack of amusement, and I could pick up that she was about as displeased as me.
Naturally, he had no idea that we were not thrilled for him. “Thanks, guys. I think I really like her, y’know?”
“Oh, yeah, I feel ya,” Aysel nods, her voice almost mocking.
“I should probably go find Carli. I bet she’s out of the bathroom by now, and I don’t want her to miss the slow dance. Catch you two later,” he threw the cigarette into a nearby trashcan like the complete idiot he is, then scurried off like the rat he is back into the banquet hall.
I normally would’ve cried, but I think by then I was out of tears. I was just… numb. Dull. Void.
“What a ****,” Aysel huffed. “You good, Val?”
I looked up from my spaced-out state. “Hm? Oh, yeah… I guess. As good as I can be, I think.”
“Honestly, Val? I thought you were gonna crack and confess.”
I shook my head a bunch. “Nope, that’s a secret I’m taking to the grave.”
---
It’s a lot easier to get away with listening to music in class when the teacher doesn’t even realize you’re there. Which is most of the time. Sitting in the back, you can have the Diskman on the desk and everything. They don’t see. Maybe in freshman year they’d care. But a senior with such little time left? They don’t even bother to say hi when you walk in the door. Fine with me, though. I have more on my mind than some teacher who wouldn’t know me from Cynthia in their fourth period.
I had just pressed play on my music when Brandon walked into class, taking his normal seat next to me– as much as I wished he’d sit somewhere else today. He settled into the seat, the desk almost comically too small for his long, tall frame. He looked over at me with a smile, his blue eyes as vibrant as ever. “Hey, Val,” he greeted.
I could not share in his enthusiasm. I simply nodded and replied, “Hey,” before turning my attention back to the window.
“Uh… what’s wrong, man? You seem… sad.” I couldn’t see his face, but he sounded confused, and that probably meant he was doing that ******, pathetic, adorable head tilt he did when he didn’t get something.
I force myself to look over at him again, shaking my head as if that would convince him. “Nothing, nothing… really.”
Brandon opened his mouth to reply, but then Carli walked in and that would prove the end of the conversation for now. She took the desk next to him, his eyes lit up as he greeted her, gently pulled the baby pink backpack off of her shoulders and slung an arm around her when she settled in her seat.
I watched out of the corner of my eye. And I told myself I didn’t care. But I cared. A lot. I turned to stare out the window again, hurt but slightly relieved– at least I didn’t have to explain myself, because now he was preoccupied with his girl. I pressed play on my Diskman again, not caring about whatever the teacher was going to yap about.
Golden Valley High School was already **** as a school, but it was only amplified fifty times over now by the fact that Brandon had essentially abandoned me for Carli. At least before he would come sit behind the stairway with me during lunch… Now I’m just alone, hoping nobody would spot me. I wasn’t even eating, just hiding from the student body of idiots. By now, usually Brandon would’ve made me head out behind the school while he smoked, but… those days were gone, I guess. He was probably sitting with Carli instead now.
Suddenly, the light from the windows was blocked, and there stood Carli herself and some of her girl posse. I forced myself to look up and meet her gaze, which was rather taunting.
And I really couldn’t do much about it. Nobody would believe me. Carli had perfect grades and was up for valedictorian, wore bright clothes, and had the sweet girl act down flat. I didn’t say anything because I simply felt I had nothing to contribute, and I’d just let her do her bragging.
“Hi, Valencia. I had a question… Do you have a date for the prom?” her grin is wicked, and I know she’s just trying to rub it in, or whatever.
“I don’t think I’m even gonna go, so what do you care?” I reply, trying to stay cynical and cold, but knowing she’s got the better of me.
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m going with Brandon, but you know that already,” followed by Carli’s nerd chic girl gang breaking up into giggles.
“Awesome. Have fun,” I stand up, slinging my bag over my shoulder, trying to give her the coldest shoulder I possibly can as I walk away.
To my surprise, they don’t follow me. They continue to laugh and ridicule me in the stairway, but they don’t trail after me. I cross my arms, staring down at my Doc Martens instead of being responsible and looking where I’m going. I start to wonder why he didn’t choose me. I mean, we were a thousand times closer than him and Carli were. Sure, she helped him do calculus homework, and she would call him at LEAST three times a week– often when we were on the phone together– but I understood him better. We spent more time together.
The bell rang and interrupted my wallowing, and I realized I was supposed to have gone to my history class by now. And I decided that sounded torturous while I was already brooding over my losses, so I decided to go hide. Maybe I’d ditch the rest of the day. It’s not like we had much longer before graduating and getting the **** out of here anyway.
The halls were mostly empty save for the occasional guy or girl scurrying hurriedly to class. I passed by the various classrooms with my head down, still thinking… until I almost slammed myself into a locker from being so spaced out. That managed to snap me back to reality. I recollected my head, reminding myself that this is the last time and place I need to have a grievous injury.
Then I heard someone else slam into a locker, and I had to check myself to make sure I hadn’t accidentally hit my head. Reassuring myself I had no cuts or bruises or missing teeth, I looked over to see if I could find the source of the noise, and my eyes might as well have burst out of the sockets to see Brandon and Carli going at it against the shiny red metal doors. Like, tongues shoved down each others’ throats and everything. I wanted to die.
I concealed myself behind an adjacent wall, but I wasn’t strong enough to resist, and I peeked out at them again. It was cliche, but I had a mix of emotions inside at this– disappointment (because I’m jealous), disgust (because it’s school and they should get a room), exhaustion (because I hadn’t slept more than four hours a night after this entire situation started). I turned back around, becoming one with the wall again as I considered my options. I was ready to walk away until I heard the click-click-clack of heels on the speckled linoleum, and my heart sunk. A teacher.
But as I caught a glimpse of said teacher– it was Mrs. Chamberlain, my creative writing teacher– I realized I could game this to my advantage. As she passed, she smiled and waved to me.
“Hello, Valencia,” but before she could continue, I pointed towards the public display. “Hello… uh… there’s a situation.”
Her brown eyes followed my finger to the couple kissing passionately against the locker, and her jaw genuinely dropped.
“T-thank you for letting me know, Valencia. I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” and she immediately headed towards the pair. I watched with a barely-restrained mischievous grin on my face, feeling rather vindicated as she chewed the couple out and forced them to follow her to the office. They walked off with an air of absolute shame, and it was enough to console me for a while longer, and I finally turned to walk out.
I had ditched that hellhole for the rest of the day and headed home. I could take advantage of the fact that nobody was home and wouldn’t be for a while. I had probably watched about four hours of South Park reruns until I heard the doorbell ring. I groaned– I was feeling too lazy to get up– but I hoisted myself off the couch and trudged to the door.
It was Brandon. My eyes widened, and I wondered if he knew I was behind the makeout incident.
All I could do was try to be cool. “Hey man,” I greeted him, my disposition nonchalant and almost bored.
He looked ******, and it almost freaked me out. “I ******’ hate that place, Val,” he answered.
“Yeah, nice to see you too. I’m good, what about you?” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. A hello would be nice, y'know?
Normally he would at least crack a smile, but his expression only soured. “I got ******’ detention for a week, dude. ‘Cause that ***** Mrs. Chamberlain caught me and Carli kissing in the hallway during class.”
I wanted to laugh, because the entire situation still thrilled me, but I choked it down and simply nodded. “****, that *****. Hope you didn’t have any plans.”
He scoffed and shook his head in irritation before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I was supposed to help Carli pick out matching outfits for prom tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to reschedule,” he grumbled while lighting the slender white stick.
“Bro, you probably shouldn’t smoke on my porch. Not after last time. You almost burned my house down,” I smirked, my tone teasing.
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” though he did move off onto the driveway. I shut the door and followed, my eyes tracing over his baggy jeans and worn out Offspring T-shirt, the combat boots, the backwards hat of some baseball team that I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with.
He stopped somewhere by the garage and took a drag from the cigarette. “So, Val. I was wondering. If you could take anybody to prom, who would you choose? I feel like I haven’t asked since, like, sophomore year, and I think it would make more sense to ask when prom is, you know, a few weeks away,” he chuckled, the grey smoke filtering out of his nose and mouth as he laughed softly.
I knew my answer, but he couldn’t, so I gave an alternate answer. “Uh, Billy Corgan. But not current, bald Billy… but, like, Gish-era Billy with the long hair. He was super hot,” I grinned. “Or, if it can include fictional characters, Todd, the, like, ****** video store clerk from Dr. Katz.”
Brandon laughed again. “Yeah, I know you’re into that. But I meant, like, a real person. Like someone from school or whatever.”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Uh, how about nobody? I hate that place and all the people in it.”
“Oh, come on, Val, nobody? I knew you were picky, but there’s really not a single dude you’re hoping to score a date with at Golden Valley?”
I shook my head. “Nope, not any of them. They’re all weird. In a bad way.” Technically, I was telling the truth– I wouldn’t go with any of them, but I’d go with him… but that wasn’t an option, I suppose.
He let out yet another huff of laughter. “Fair enough. I just figured maybe you’d find someone you could put up with for at least a night. Like how I found Carli.”
Hearing him mention Carli made my smile drop. Before I could think, I responded. “Hm, yeah, well, why aren't you with Carli now? Since you’ve been inseparable lately.”
His eyebrows raised, probably in surprise at my somewhat bitter tone. “Oh, uh, she had to go home for dinner or whatever.”
I nodded, accepting this information begrudgingly. “Good to know. So, will you be heading out soon to see her?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty shaken up about this whole incident, so I guess I should go… comfort her and all that.”
Of course he was ditching me to go check on her. I crossed my arms, trying to play it off as a casual movement. “Yeah, yeah, cool. Guess someone like her isn’t used to a thing like that.” There was a moment of tense silence until I spoke up again, ready to get rid of him. “We should probably get out of the driveway, my mom’ll probably be home soon,” though that was a lie as far as I knew.
He nodded, dropped the cigarette and stomped it out. “Yeah, I should probably head over to Carli’s anyway… see you later, Val,” he half-smiled with a wave before walking off just as fast as he’d shown up.
I had taken a few steps toward the front door, but stopped to look back and watch as he walked away, presumably toward Carli’s. I leaned against one of the porch’s columns, my arms crossed as I watched his tall, slender figure grow smaller and smaller into the distance… and I started to feel sort of sad again. I guess the rush of making him and Carli suffer had already worn off. I sighed heavily, walking back inside with a sense of defeat.
Inside the house, a voicemail awaited me from Mom.
‘Hi, Valencia. Just calling to let you know that I’m not gonna be home until tomorrow, since your Aunt Maureen asked if I could watch the dogs for her while she goes to some party over in Greenfield. You know how she is about those dogs… so, please, dear, make sure to eat, and please try not to mope around anymore. If you want money to order or anything, feel free to go into the bedside drawer in my room. Love you, sweetie! See you soon!’
I picked up the phone, but I didn't call Mom. Instead, I called the only girl I could count on.
“Hello? Val, is that you?” her voice echoed through the receiver.
“Aysel, you should come over,” I replied. “My mom isn’t here. Also I kinda need to, like, not be alone right now.”
“Is this about Brandon?” Aysel sighed. “But yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Cool, see you soon…” I trailed off a bit before hanging up the phone.
The cool thing is that Aysel really was there in about a minute, because she only lived a street over. And as she walked in, wearing the winking kitty cat tee I had helped her pick out at the mall a few months ago, her tanned skin darkened by the house’s dim lighting, I felt a wave of relief cross me. When all else failed, I had Aysel.
“Yo, Val. So, is this about Brandon or what?” She raised an eyebrow at me, but she had a barely there smile.
“Yeah… it’s been… a weird day,” I stuttered out.
Aysel sinks down into the couch. “Tell me… let it out,” she pressed, as discussing the Brandon situation had been commonplace these past couple of weeks.
“I’m just… ******, I guess,” I flop onto the couch beside her, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, I’ve been the one that’s there, but he still goes for that Carli *****,” I gritted my teeth a bit, growing more irritated. “And today, oh my god, you should’ve seen it, Aysel. They were straight up making out in the hallway. And nobody else was around, I was the only one seeing it until my creative writing teacher came out of nowhere. I was really mad, right? So I snitched on them and she made them go to the office,” I smirked, chuckling darkly. “It was actually pretty awesome.”
Aysel shared my amusement and laughed loudly. “He deserved it!”
“Right?! And then he had the audacity to show up here and complain to me after abandoning me for her for days.”
“He’s an idiot. If I was a man, I’d be terrified of ever losing you.”
“I really don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably kill myself.”
Aysel chuckled again. “You cannot kill yourself over this. Don’t let that lanky idiot or that psycho mathlete win.”
“I wish you were still at Golden Valley. It ****** at least slightly less **** when you were there.”
“Yeah, well, my dad was pretty ****** after the Mark Johnston incident, so…,” she smirks. “Alternative school for me…”
“But it was Mark’s fault,” I rolled my eyes, ready to rehash the same drama that we’d been discussing for the past year– but I digressed. “Man, senior year has been so *** without you there. Seriously. All I had was ******’ Brandon and he abadoned my *** for Carli.”
“Maybe we could hit him with my brother’s car,” she grins.
“Maybe we could put cyanide in all of his cigarettes.”
“Maybe we could slash his tires.”
“Or maybe… we could brainstorm while I order takeout?”
It was a good night. Aysel knew how to make things better. I had done it when she broke up with that ****** Eric, and now she was comforting me. She stayed over, and we both ended up ditching our respective classes to get breakfast. And, over shared gossip and chocolate chip pancakes, things felt less gloomy. As we discussed our plans for the day– the record store to search for CDs, sitting in my room and pondering life, and of course, no class– I noticed ****** Carli and her right-hand-woman, Tiffany, walking in. I put my fork down, my eyes narrowing.
Aysel followed my gaze, then scoffed. “Oh look, Miss Congeniality has graced us with her presence,” she rolls her eyes.
I watched as the pair sat down across the cafe and looked down at the menus. Carli looked like she had been crying, and Tiffany made sure to state over and over again– loudly, mind you– ‘It’s not your fault, girl.’
“More like it is your fault, girl,” Aysel whispered to me. I half-smiled, staring at them a bit longer before turning back to my plate.
“Fighting over a guy is ****** usually. Except for this. I think I’m totally valid.”
“I mean, you are. They’d, like, never spoken until they had calculus together this year, right? And you’ve been into him way longer.” She paused as she cut off another piece of French toast. “Actually, I bet his parents paid him to pick her as a date. You said he originally didn’t want to go at all, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me he wasn’t gonna go up until maybe three weeks ago. Maybe he is being paid,” I snickered.
Aysel shared my laughter. “I mean, it would make sense, considering they never really started hanging out until a few months ago, right? Maybe he’ll use the money to buy you an apology present.”
I chuckled at the thought. “Yeah, right. A girl can dream, I guess.”
Hours later, against the warm April sun, my mom confronted me as I sprawled across the couch.
“C’mon, Val, you have to go to prom. I get that you’re sad about this Brandon thing, but you only get one chance, and you have to take it. What if you regret it later?”
I shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t have a date. Plus, why would I really wanna spend more time with these ******** I hate?”
Mom grimaces slightly at my harsh words. “Because maybe it’ll still be fun…?”
I simply shook my head.
“But think about it, sweetheart. You can dress up! And so what if you don’t have a date? Why don’t you bring Aysel?”
“I dunno,” I shrugged again, feeling completely apathetic to the idea. “I think after Brandon chose Carli, I just don’t care anymore.”
“Oh, honey, he didn’t ‘choose’ anyone. Just because he’s going to prom with her doesn’t mean he likes her more than you.”
I let out a small laugh of disbelief. “I think that’s exactly what it means.”
I hear her sigh with defeat, yet she makes one last attempt to convince me. “You know what, Val? I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take you dress shopping right now. And if you see a dress that you really, genuinely love, no matter the price, I’ll buy it for you– but you have to go to the prom. Deal?”
Something about this bargain struck a chord, and it’s not like I had anything better to do that night. So, I sat up and looked her in the eye. “Deal.”
She raised her brows as if surprised her negotiations worked, and a grin crossed her face. “I’ll get my keys.”
The mall was, surprisingly, not particularly busy for a Friday night, but it still had all the classic elements– the irresistible soft pretzel and Cinnabon scents lacing the air, teenage friend groups representing every and all cliques, moms trying to make their small children cooperate while she picked clothes for them. Pop songs echoed through the wide, store-lined corridors. Mom pulled me into that store that has all the pretty, fancy, shimmery formal dresses, and I was honestly a bit overwhelmed at the sheer amount of options.
“Go crazy, girlfriend,” Mom encouraged me, sort of pushing me towards one of the racks. Before I could reply, she walked away, settling onto a bench near the storefront. I sighed softly, turning my head towards the various dresses. Digging through my size section, there was so much variety– satin, tulle, cotton, spandex, pink and yellow and white and red and rainbow… and yet none of it was something I wanted to wear. Initially, I felt sort of relieved, because then I didn’t have to go. That’s when I saw the dress.
It was floor-length, with a red satin material under a black, mesh-type outer layer, adorned with velvet swirl designs and a spaghetti-strapped halter neck.
“Guess you’ll be going after all,” Mom’s voice echoed behind me, and I could hear the ‘told you so’ smirk in her tone.
“I- uh… yeah, I guess you’re right…” I huffed out defeatedly, my eyes still glued to the dress.
“Why don’t you go try it on? Just to make sure it doesn’t need to be altered or anything like that,” Mom smiled softly, taking hold of my arm to lead me towards the small dressing room area.
Like it was some cheesy high school movie, it was a perfect fit. It accentuated… everything… very nicely. I actually felt sort of pretty. I walked out of the room to show Mom, feeling a bit shy but overall pleased.
Her face lit up, and from the looks of it, I think she was happier than I was. “Oh, Valencia… you look so beaut—”
“Woah, Val, you look great!” A deep, familiar voice cut off Mom’s gushing. Imagine my shock to see Brandon standing nearby, carrying what was presumably a tux over his arm. “Seriously, that dress is like… you. In dress form,” he chuckled out awkwardly.
I cursed internally– this must’ve been the time he and Carli rescheduled their prom shopping to.
As if Mom wasn’t aware of the entire prom fiasco, she immediately began bombarding Brandon with her attention. “Oh, Brandon! Hi, dear! I haven’t seen you in a little while, how are you?”
He answered, but I tuned them out. I walked back into the dressing room, and suddenly, despite the dress looking the exact same as it did before, I felt less pretty. If I was pretty, he would’ve asked me to go with him instead of Carli. If I was pretty, he probably would’ve asked me out long before that. If I was pretty, I wouldn’t be here right now.
I unzipped the dress, hanging it back up on the hanger. I started feeling like I should just tell Mom, ‘Thanks, but no,’ and retreat back into the solitude of home, continuing with my plan to skip prom. But just as I walked back out, Mom scooped up the dress into her arms and immediately headed towards the register. My fate was sealed. I was going, whether I liked it or not.
Brandon was still there, much to my chagrin. He smiled, and that smile made irritation bubble up in me. As unreasonable as it was, there was something about the fact that I was hurting and he was grinning innocently like nothing had happened that made me want to scream.
“So… guess you’re coming to prom after all, hm?” His smile morphed into a teasing smirk.
I crossed my arms, looking over at where Mom was paying for the dress. “Yeah, she’s makin’ me go. I guess if the worst comes to worst, I can Irish goodbye everyone and go somewhere else. Or I could fake being sick.”
“Yeah, guess so,” he laughed a bit, a light, almost imperceptible laugh. It was more of a huff of air than anything. “Honestly, I think you should go. I mean, I’m going, and I said I wasn’t for the entirety of high school.”
“Yeah, I know you did… but now you have Carli,” I sighed.
“Well, fair enough. She’s the one who convinced me to change my mind.”
“I’m guessing she’s here somewhere?” I gestured vaguely towards the racks of dresses.
Brandon nodded. “Yeah, she decided on blue for our prom outfits and now she’s freaking out and running around the store to find the right shade of it or whatever.”
“Cool, cool… I’m sure you’ll look… nice,” I force myself to give him a supportive grin.
“Thanks, Val. I’m glad you changed your mind about going. It’ll be fun.”
As the words left his lips, I wondered if he had even listened to anything I had just said. I stared up at him for a minute, and it truly felt like time had paused. I tried to regulate the tension I was feeling before fabricating another fake answer. “…Yeah, it’ll be cool, hopefully.”
“Brandon!” Carli’s voice called loudly from the other side of the store, and I could see she was holding a slinky, royal blue evening gown up, probably wanting his opinion on it.
“Be there in a second, okay, babe?” He yelled back to her before shooting me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Val. Gotta go help Carli. See you later, okay?” And before I could open my mouth, he was rushing off to Carli’s side.
I probably looked ****** standing there, staring after the pair with my mouth agape. It was Mom who finally snapped me back to reality as she walked back towards me, my beautiful prom dress in one of those nice, striped shopping bags. She saw my staring and looked towards Brandon and Carli, then gave me a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Let’s go get pizza.”
The pizza was good. I spilled Pepsi on my pants, but they’re black so it was whatever. I successfully swallowed my tears until we got home, and I finally spilled them into my pillow. I tried to bully my mind; remind myself that crying over a boy was dumb, but it didn’t do the trick like it usually did. After a few minutes of soaking the red silk pillowcase, I looked up to the posters plastered all over the wall, my vision bleary from the tears. Most of them were guys. Guys who were much more accomplished, much more interesting, much more handsome than Brandon. But still I cried. Because, in that moment, what did it matter? He was still my guy, even if that wasn’t factual anymore.
I jumped when the phone began to ring, and without even really thinking to check, I picked up the receiver.
“H-hello?” my voice was shaky as I mumbled into the phone, trying to sound as put-together as possible.
“Hey, Val,” Aysel’s voice spoke up on the other end. “I just got off the phone with Brandon. Said he saw you at the mall,” I could practically hear the smirk on her face. “So I wanted to ask what happened. He didn’t say much about it.”
I swiped at the tear tracks on my cheeks as if she could see them. “Y-yeah, I saw him. My mom is making me go, so I had to get a dress. And he was there with Carli. He saw me trying on the dress and said I looked good or some ****, then he got all buddy-buddy with my mom,” I responded. “It ******. A lot. I kinda wanted to engage in some self-immolation.”
Aysel snickered on the other end. “Clearly. I can tell you’re… displeased.”
“What gave it away? The sniffling? The shake in my voice?”
“No, that you didn’t totally fly off the handle and start talking five miles a minute at the mention of his name.”
“Okay, you got me there.”
“So, you’re being forced to go to prom?”
“Yep. Mom was all like, ‘you’re gonna regret it when you’re my age,’ or whatever,” I sighed, doing a half-assed imitation of her voice.
“That *****. Want me to be your makeshit date?”
“Don’t you mean ‘makeshift?’”
“No, makeshit. I want to cause problems. I have some unfinished business with Mark Johnston.”
“Sounds fun. Guess you’re my plus one.”
“Hey, that rhymed!”
“Maybe I should start a rap career.”
“That Carli diss track is going to be legendary.”
“More like Brandon diss track at this rate. Or both. Something about two birds, one stone.”
“Should we pull a Carrie and pour pig blood on both of them?”
“Nah, pigs are too good for that. Maybe just food coloring? Or used tampons.”
Aysel cackled on the other end. “Yeah, the tampons. Perfect.”
“Yeah, it’d be satisfying.”
“When’s the prom, anyway?”
“Day after tomorrow. Saturday.”
“And all three of you waited this long to find outfits?”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going, and Brandon and Carli had the whole detention thing, plus apparently she was being really picky about finding the perfect dress.”
“Guess I’ll just use what I wore to my school’s prom. And that should be indicative of what she’ll be like if he marries her.”
I snorted a bit with laughter. “You’d think. Sorry for the short notice… but it’ll be sick now that you’re going.”
Prom came quickly. The thought of it was a little less dreadful with Aysel by my side. She came over, we got ready in my room, playing albums and reminiscing on high school as a whole. We almost twinned, her purple dress heavily complimenting mine. Of course, Mom insisted on several pictures that she’ll probably forget about by next Tuesday. We went to dinner beforehand. Mom insisted we go somewhere nice, so we did– and in the dim, red velvet plastered booth, I was actually sort of happy I went. I looked cute, I was with my best friend, and I wasn’t thinking about Brandon for the time being. We got to eat steak and pasta and those chocolate lava cakes. We probably disturbed the other customers with how much and how loud we laughed. It was the best I had felt since Brandon had decided to go with Carli.
Prom was being held at some banquet hall not too far from the school. It was moderately upscale, probably appropriate for a high school prom. Some radio hit R&B song with suggestive lyrics that the teachers obviously did not pick up on pumped through speakers inside. Even the rocks-for-brains jocks were dressed up.
“It’s honestly kinda weird to see everyone looking so… nice,” I mused, trying to make sure Aysel could hear me over the booming music.
“Yeah, usually they dress like wannabe gangbangers or like they rolled out of bed, so… I’ve gotta give them some credit,” Aysel said, her expression showing genuine awe.
“Y’know, I’m really not gonna miss these people. At all.”
“No ****. They’re idiots.”
Then I spotted Brandon and Carli. They were getting their picture taken in front of one of those typical prom moon things. “Don’t look now…”
And, despite my words, Aysel turned around to look over at them. “Ha! They look… fashionably challenged.”
“You think we should go take pictures too? We’d outfashion them for sure.”
Without a word, Aysel was up and heading for the line. I followed suit, but I was unable to tear my gaze from the couple. They held hands as they walked out of the photo area, giggling and sharing ******, sickly sweet smiles. Now, instead of wanting to die on the spot, I wanted them to die on the spot.
“Hey, Val, stop pouting and come take a photo,” Aysel waved me over behind the camera. As we posed together, you could see the mixed reactions on the other peoples’ faces– confusion, shock, judgement, disgust, even amusement. It took me a second to realize that we were apparently the first non-couple to take a picture here, and they thought we were genuinely each others’ dates.
“Ewww, lesbians! Disgusting freaks!” a voice called from the line.
“Is that MARK JOHNSTON?!” Aysel yelled, and I realized **** was about to go down until a chaperone came over to reprimand him– so I seized the opportunity for us to sneak away and outside.
The stone steps served as our seating, and only a few other attendees littered the courtyard– mostly kissing couples. Aysel and I watched and made fun of them– maybe it soothed our singleness.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little glad I went,” I finally admitted. “But not that much. We’d still be having fun somewhere else. But also, I kinda am happy.”
“I think we’ve made the most of it,” Aysel nodded.
“Yo, Val! Aysel!” Brandon’s familiar voice called to us from behind.
“Wow, he knows *********** a moment,” Aysel scoffed, low enough that only I could hear.
We turned to face him, watching as he sat down by me and lit the tip of his cigarette. “Guess you didn’t play sick.”
I shook my head. “Nope. I was a big girl and showed up,” I responded with a nice helping of sarcasm.
Brandon chuckled. “That’s the Val we all love.”
Even if it was innocuous to him, it stung inside. Love? Then why Carli and not me?
His eyes made their way over to Aysel, who was absentmindedly checking out her nails. “And I see you brought Aysel. It’s like the group’s back together.”
“I mean, not quite. There’s no Mark, and I doubt Aysel would ever allow that to happen again,” I smirk, elbowing her arm lightly to emphasise my teasing. She grumbled something about wanting to stab him, which made Brandon giggle.
“Okay, true. No Mark. But close enough, right?” He took a long drag before offering the cigarette to us. I shook my head, but Aysel reached out and took it, bringing it to her burgundy lips.
“So… where’s that Carli, Brandon?” Aysel raised an eyebrow, ever the instigator.
“The bathroom. She went with some of her friends and you know how long that can take,” he grinned before taking the cigarette back from Aysel.
“Hm. How’s she working for you as a date?” she pushed.
“Actually…” Brandon trailed off. His tone was unclear, and his emotions sounded mixed. My heart might as well have stopped in its tracks. Is this it? Is this the moment where he decides Carli isn’t for him? Where he realizes it was me all along?
“Actually…?” Aysel echoed, trying to get him to provide a real answer. I held my breath. I tried to look nonchalant, brushing some hair out of my face, but I could feel my hands shake. I was finally getting my fairytale ending…
“…pretty good. She’s really sweet. I like her a lot. I’m glad I got to go with her. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy she convinced me to come! She’s awesome,” he flashes a smile, and it’s the most genuine I’ve ever seen.
My heart dropped into my stomach, then into my pelvic floor, then fell out of me entirely. I hoped my face didn’t show too much of my sheer, unadulterated disappointment. What about that happy ending?
“That’s cool,” Aysel responded with a lack of amusement, and I could pick up that she was about as displeased as me.
Naturally, he had no idea that we were not thrilled for him. “Thanks, guys. I think I really like her, y’know?”
“Oh, yeah, I feel ya,” Aysel nods, her voice almost mocking.
“I should probably go find Carli. I bet she’s out of the bathroom by now, and I don’t want her to miss the slow dance. Catch you two later,” he threw the cigarette into a nearby trashcan like the complete idiot he is, then scurried off like the rat he is back into the banquet hall.
I normally would’ve cried, but I think by then I was out of tears. I was just… numb. Dull. Void.
“What a ****,” Aysel huffed. “You good, Val?”
I looked up from my spaced-out state. “Hm? Oh, yeah… I guess. As good as I can be, I think.”
“Honestly, Val? I thought you were gonna crack and confess.”
I shook my head a bunch. “Nope, that’s a secret I’m taking to the grave.”
posting a short story on here... go easy on me!<br />
---<br />
It’s a lot easier to get away with listening to music in class when the teacher doesn’t even realize you’re there. Which is most of the time. Sitting in the back, you can have the Diskman on the desk and everything. They don’t see. Maybe in freshman year they’d care. But a senior with such little time left? They don’t even bother to say hi when you walk in the door. Fine with me, though. I have more on my mind than some teacher who wouldn’t know me from Cynthia in their fourth period.<br />
I had just pressed play on my music when Brandon walked into class, taking his normal seat next to me– as much as I wished he’d sit somewhere else today. He settled into the seat, the desk almost comically too small for his long, tall frame. He looked over at me with a smile, his blue eyes as vibrant as ever. “Hey, Val,” he greeted. <br />
I could not share in his enthusiasm. I simply nodded and replied, “Hey,” before turning my attention back to the window.<br />
“Uh… what’s wrong, man? You seem… sad.” I couldn’t see his face, but he sounded confused, and that probably meant he was doing that ******, pathetic, adorable head tilt he did when he didn’t get something.<br />
I force myself to look over at him again, shaking my head as if that would convince him. “Nothing, nothing… really.”<br />
Brandon opened his mouth to reply, but then Carli walked in and that would prove the end of the conversation for now. She took the desk next to him, his eyes lit up as he greeted her, gently pulled the baby pink backpack off of her shoulders and slung an arm around her when she settled in her seat.<br />
I watched out of the corner of my eye. And I told myself I didn’t care. But I cared. A lot. I turned to stare out the window again, hurt but slightly relieved– at least I didn’t have to explain myself, because now he was preoccupied with his girl. I pressed play on my Diskman again, not caring about whatever the teacher was going to yap about.<br />
<br />
Golden Valley High School was already **** as a school, but it was only amplified fifty times over now by the fact that Brandon had essentially abandoned me for Carli. At least before he would come sit behind the stairway with me during lunch… Now I’m just alone, hoping nobody would spot me. I wasn’t even eating, just hiding from the student body of idiots. By now, usually Brandon would’ve made me head out behind the school while he smoked, but… those days were gone, I guess. He was probably sitting with Carli instead now.<br />
Suddenly, the light from the windows was blocked, and there stood Carli herself and some of her girl posse. I forced myself to look up and meet her gaze, which was rather taunting. <br />
And I really couldn’t do much about it. Nobody would believe me. Carli had perfect grades and was up for valedictorian, wore bright clothes, and had the sweet girl act down flat. I didn’t say anything because I simply felt I had nothing to contribute, and I’d just let her do her bragging.<br />
“Hi, Valencia. I had a question… Do you have a date for the prom?” her grin is wicked, and I know she’s just trying to rub it in, or whatever.<br />
“I don’t think I’m even gonna go, so what do you care?” I reply, trying to stay cynical and cold, but knowing she’s got the better of me.<br />
“Oh, that’s a shame. I’m going with Brandon, but you know that already,” followed by Carli’s nerd chic girl gang breaking up into giggles.<br />
“Awesome. Have fun,” I stand up, slinging my bag over my shoulder, trying to give her the coldest shoulder I possibly can as I walk away.<br />
To my surprise, they don’t follow me. They continue to laugh and ridicule me in the stairway, but they don’t trail after me. I cross my arms, staring down at my Doc Martens instead of being responsible and looking where I’m going. I start to wonder why he didn’t choose me. I mean, we were a thousand times closer than him and Carli were. Sure, she helped him do calculus homework, and she would call him at LEAST three times a week– often when we were on the phone together– but I understood him better. We spent more time together. <br />
The bell rang and interrupted my wallowing, and I realized I was supposed to have gone to my history class by now. And I decided that sounded torturous while I was already brooding over my losses, so I decided to go hide. Maybe I’d ditch the rest of the day. It’s not like we had much longer before graduating and getting the **** out of here anyway. <br />
The halls were mostly empty save for the occasional guy or girl scurrying hurriedly to class. I passed by the various classrooms with my head down, still thinking… until I almost slammed myself into a locker from being so spaced out. That managed to snap me back to reality. I recollected my head, reminding myself that this is the last time and place I need to have a grievous injury. <br />
Then I heard someone else slam into a locker, and I had to check myself to make sure I hadn’t accidentally hit my head. Reassuring myself I had no cuts or bruises or missing teeth, I looked over to see if I could find the source of the noise, and my eyes might as well have burst out of the sockets to see Brandon and Carli going at it against the shiny red metal doors. Like, tongues shoved down each others’ throats and everything. I wanted to die. <br />
I concealed myself behind an adjacent wall, but I wasn’t strong enough to resist, and I peeked out at them again. It was cliche, but I had a mix of emotions inside at this– disappointment (because I’m jealous), disgust (because it’s school and they should get a room), exhaustion (because I hadn’t slept more than four hours a night after this entire situation started). I turned back around, becoming one with the wall again as I considered my options. I was ready to walk away until I heard the click-click-clack of heels on the speckled linoleum, and my heart sunk. A teacher.<br />
But as I caught a glimpse of said teacher– it was Mrs. Chamberlain, my creative writing teacher– I realized I could game this to my advantage. As she passed, she smiled and waved to me.<br />
“Hello, Valencia,” but before she could continue, I pointed towards the public display. “Hello… uh… there’s a situation.”<br />
Her brown eyes followed my finger to the couple kissing passionately against the locker, and her jaw genuinely dropped. <br />
“T-thank you for letting me know, Valencia. I’ll see you in class tomorrow,” and she immediately headed towards the pair. I watched with a barely-restrained mischievous grin on my face, feeling rather vindicated as she chewed the couple out and forced them to follow her to the office. They walked off with an air of absolute shame, and it was enough to console me for a while longer, and I finally turned to walk out.<br />
<br />
I had ditched that hellhole for the rest of the day and headed home. I could take advantage of the fact that nobody was home and wouldn’t be for a while. I had probably watched about four hours of South Park reruns until I heard the doorbell ring. I groaned– I was feeling too lazy to get up– but I hoisted myself off the couch and trudged to the door. <br />
It was Brandon. My eyes widened, and I wondered if he knew I was behind the makeout incident.<br />
All I could do was try to be cool. “Hey man,” I greeted him, my disposition nonchalant and almost bored.<br />
He looked ******, and it almost freaked me out. “I ******’ hate that place, Val,” he answered.<br />
“Yeah, nice to see you too. I’m good, what about you?” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. A hello would be nice, y'know?<br />
Normally he would at least crack a smile, but his expression only soured. “I got ******’ detention for a week, dude. ‘Cause that ***** Mrs. Chamberlain caught me and Carli kissing in the hallway during class.”<br />
I wanted to laugh, because the entire situation still thrilled me, but I choked it down and simply nodded. “****, that *****. Hope you didn’t have any plans.”<br />
He scoffed and shook his head in irritation before pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I was supposed to help Carli pick out matching outfits for prom tomorrow, but I guess we’ll have to reschedule,” he grumbled while lighting the slender white stick.<br />
“Bro, you probably shouldn’t smoke on my porch. Not after last time. You almost burned my house down,” I smirked, my tone teasing.<br />
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” though he did move off onto the driveway. I shut the door and followed, my eyes tracing over his baggy jeans and worn out Offspring T-shirt, the combat boots, the backwards hat of some baseball team that I couldn’t be bothered to keep up with. <br />
He stopped somewhere by the garage and took a drag from the cigarette. “So, Val. I was wondering. If you could take anybody to prom, who would you choose? I feel like I haven’t asked since, like, sophomore year, and I think it would make more sense to ask when prom is, you know, a few weeks away,” he chuckled, the grey smoke filtering out of his nose and mouth as he laughed softly. <br />
I knew my answer, but he couldn’t, so I gave an alternate answer. “Uh, Billy Corgan. But not current, bald Billy… but, like, Gish-era Billy with the long hair. He was super hot,” I grinned. “Or, if it can include fictional characters, Todd, the, like, ****** video store clerk from Dr. Katz.”<br />
Brandon laughed again. “Yeah, I know you’re into that. But I meant, like, a real person. Like someone from school or whatever.”<br />
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Uh, how about nobody? I hate that place and all the people in it.”<br />
“Oh, come on, Val, nobody? I knew you were picky, but there’s really not a single dude you’re hoping to score a date with at Golden Valley?”<br />
I shook my head. “Nope, not any of them. They’re all weird. In a bad way.” Technically, I was telling the truth– I wouldn’t go with any of them, but I’d go with him… but that wasn’t an option, I suppose.<br />
He let out yet another huff of laughter. “Fair enough. I just figured maybe you’d find someone you could put up with for at least a night. Like how I found Carli.”<br />
Hearing him mention Carli made my smile drop. Before I could think, I responded. “Hm, yeah, well, why aren't you with Carli now? Since you’ve been inseparable lately.”<br />
His eyebrows raised, probably in surprise at my somewhat bitter tone. “Oh, uh, she had to go home for dinner or whatever.”<br />
I nodded, accepting this information begrudgingly. “Good to know. So, will you be heading out soon to see her?”<br />
He nodded. “Yeah, she’s pretty shaken up about this whole incident, so I guess I should go… comfort her and all that.”<br />
Of course he was ditching me to go check on her. I crossed my arms, trying to play it off as a casual movement. “Yeah, yeah, cool. Guess someone like her isn’t used to a thing like that.” There was a moment of tense silence until I spoke up again, ready to get rid of him. “We should probably get out of the driveway, my mom’ll probably be home soon,” though that was a lie as far as I knew.<br />
He nodded, dropped the cigarette and stomped it out. “Yeah, I should probably head over to Carli’s anyway… see you later, Val,” he half-smiled with a wave before walking off just as fast as he’d shown up.<br />
I had taken a few steps toward the front door, but stopped to look back and watch as he walked away, presumably toward Carli’s. I leaned against one of the porch’s columns, my arms crossed as I watched his tall, slender figure grow smaller and smaller into the distance… and I started to feel sort of sad again. I guess the rush of making him and Carli suffer had already worn off. I sighed heavily, walking back inside with a sense of defeat.<br />
<br />
Inside the house, a voicemail awaited me from Mom.<br />
‘Hi, Valencia. Just calling to let you know that I’m not gonna be home until tomorrow, since your Aunt Maureen asked if I could watch the dogs for her while she goes to some party over in Greenfield. You know how she is about those dogs… so, please, dear, make sure to eat, and please try not to mope around anymore. If you want money to order or anything, feel free to go into the bedside drawer in my room. Love you, sweetie! See you soon!’<br />
I picked up the phone, but I didn't call Mom. Instead, I called the only girl I could count on. <br />
“Hello? Val, is that you?” her voice echoed through the receiver.<br />
“Aysel, you should come over,” I replied. “My mom isn’t here. Also I kinda need to, like, not be alone right now.”<br />
“Is this about Brandon?” Aysel sighed. “But yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.”<br />
“Cool, see you soon…” I trailed off a bit before hanging up the phone.<br />
The cool thing is that Aysel really was there in about a minute, because she only lived a street over. And as she walked in, wearing the winking kitty cat tee I had helped her pick out at the mall a few months ago, her tanned skin darkened by the house’s dim lighting, I felt a wave of relief cross me. When all else failed, I had Aysel.<br />
“Yo, Val. So, is this about Brandon or what?” She raised an eyebrow at me, but she had a barely there smile.<br />
“Yeah… it’s been… a weird day,” I stuttered out.<br />
Aysel sinks down into the couch. “Tell me… let it out,” she pressed, as discussing the Brandon situation had been commonplace these past couple of weeks.<br />
“I’m just… ******, I guess,” I flop onto the couch beside her, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, I’ve been the one that’s there, but he still goes for that Carli *****,” I gritted my teeth a bit, growing more irritated. “And today, oh my god, you should’ve seen it, Aysel. They were straight up making out in the hallway. And nobody else was around, I was the only one seeing it until my creative writing teacher came out of nowhere. I was really mad, right? So I snitched on them and she made them go to the office,” I smirked, chuckling darkly. “It was actually pretty awesome.”<br />
Aysel shared my amusement and laughed loudly. “He deserved it!”<br />
“Right?! And then he had the audacity to show up here and complain to me after abandoning me for her for days.”<br />
“He’s an idiot. If I was a man, I’d be terrified of ever losing you.”<br />
“I really don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably kill myself.”<br />
Aysel chuckled again. “You cannot kill yourself over this. Don’t let that lanky idiot or that psycho mathlete win.”<br />
“I wish you were still at Golden Valley. It ****** at least slightly less **** when you were there.”<br />
“Yeah, well, my dad was pretty ****** after the Mark Johnston incident, so…,” she smirks. “Alternative school for me…”<br />
“But it was Mark’s fault,” I rolled my eyes, ready to rehash the same drama that we’d been discussing for the past year– but I digressed. “Man, senior year has been so *** without you there. Seriously. All I had was ******’ Brandon and he abadoned my *** for Carli.”<br />
“Maybe we could hit him with my brother’s car,” she grins.<br />
“Maybe we could put cyanide in all of his cigarettes.”<br />
“Maybe we could slash his tires.”<br />
“Or maybe… we could brainstorm while I order takeout?”<br />
<br />
It was a good night. Aysel knew how to make things better. I had done it when she broke up with that ****** Eric, and now she was comforting me. She stayed over, and we both ended up ditching our respective classes to get breakfast. And, over shared gossip and chocolate chip pancakes, things felt less gloomy. As we discussed our plans for the day– the record store to search for CDs, sitting in my room and pondering life, and of course, no class– I noticed ****** Carli and her right-hand-woman, Tiffany, walking in. I put my fork down, my eyes narrowing. <br />
Aysel followed my gaze, then scoffed. “Oh look, Miss Congeniality has graced us with her presence,” she rolls her eyes.<br />
I watched as the pair sat down across the cafe and looked down at the menus. Carli looked like she had been crying, and Tiffany made sure to state over and over again– loudly, mind you– ‘It’s not your fault, girl.’<br />
“More like it is your fault, girl,” Aysel whispered to me. I half-smiled, staring at them a bit longer before turning back to my plate.<br />
“Fighting over a guy is ****** usually. Except for this. I think I’m totally valid.”<br />
“I mean, you are. They’d, like, never spoken until they had calculus together this year, right? And you’ve been into him way longer.” She paused as she cut off another piece of French toast. “Actually, I bet his parents paid him to pick her as a date. You said he originally didn’t want to go at all, right?”<br />
I nodded. “Yeah, he told me he wasn’t gonna go up until maybe three weeks ago. Maybe he is being paid,” I snickered.<br />
Aysel shared my laughter. “I mean, it would make sense, considering they never really started hanging out until a few months ago, right? Maybe he’ll use the money to buy you an apology present.”<br />
I chuckled at the thought. “Yeah, right. A girl can dream, I guess.”<br />
<br />
Hours later, against the warm April sun, my mom confronted me as I sprawled across the couch.<br />
“C’mon, Val, you have to go to prom. I get that you’re sad about this Brandon thing, but you only get one chance, and you have to take it. What if you regret it later?”<br />
I shrugged. “I don’t care. I don’t have a date. Plus, why would I really wanna spend more time with these ******** I hate?”<br />
Mom grimaces slightly at my harsh words. “Because maybe it’ll still be fun…?”<br />
I simply shook my head.<br />
“But think about it, sweetheart. You can dress up! And so what if you don’t have a date? Why don’t you bring Aysel?”<br />
“I dunno,” I shrugged again, feeling completely apathetic to the idea. “I think after Brandon chose Carli, I just don’t care anymore.”<br />
“Oh, honey, he didn’t ‘choose’ anyone. Just because he’s going to prom with her doesn’t mean he likes her more than you.”<br />
I let out a small laugh of disbelief. “I think that’s exactly what it means.”<br />
I hear her sigh with defeat, yet she makes one last attempt to convince me. “You know what, Val? I’ll make you a deal. I’ll take you dress shopping right now. And if you see a dress that you really, genuinely love, no matter the price, I’ll buy it for you– but you have to go to the prom. Deal?”<br />
Something about this bargain struck a chord, and it’s not like I had anything better to do that night. So, I sat up and looked her in the eye. “Deal.”<br />
She raised her brows as if surprised her negotiations worked, and a grin crossed her face. “I’ll get my keys.”<br />
<br />
The mall was, surprisingly, not particularly busy for a Friday night, but it still had all the classic elements– the irresistible soft pretzel and Cinnabon scents lacing the air, teenage friend groups representing every and all cliques, moms trying to make their small children cooperate while she picked clothes for them. Pop songs echoed through the wide, store-lined corridors. Mom pulled me into that store that has all the pretty, fancy, shimmery formal dresses, and I was honestly a bit overwhelmed at the sheer amount of options.<br />
“Go crazy, girlfriend,” Mom encouraged me, sort of pushing me towards one of the racks. Before I could reply, she walked away, settling onto a bench near the storefront. I sighed softly, turning my head towards the various dresses. Digging through my size section, there was so much variety– satin, tulle, cotton, spandex, pink and yellow and white and red and rainbow… and yet none of it was something I wanted to wear. Initially, I felt sort of relieved, because then I didn’t have to go. That’s when I saw the dress.<br />
It was floor-length, with a red satin material under a black, mesh-type outer layer, adorned with velvet swirl designs and a spaghetti-strapped halter neck.<br />
“Guess you’ll be going after all,” Mom’s voice echoed behind me, and I could hear the ‘told you so’ smirk in her tone. <br />
“I- uh… yeah, I guess you’re right…” I huffed out defeatedly, my eyes still glued to the dress.<br />
“Why don’t you go try it on? Just to make sure it doesn’t need to be altered or anything like that,” Mom smiled softly, taking hold of my arm to lead me towards the small dressing room area. <br />
Like it was some cheesy high school movie, it was a perfect fit. It accentuated… everything… very nicely. I actually felt sort of pretty. I walked out of the room to show Mom, feeling a bit shy but overall pleased.<br />
Her face lit up, and from the looks of it, I think she was happier than I was. “Oh, Valencia… you look so beaut—”<br />
“Woah, Val, you look great!” A deep, familiar voice cut off Mom’s gushing. Imagine my shock to see Brandon standing nearby, carrying what was presumably a tux over his arm. “Seriously, that dress is like… you. In dress form,” he chuckled out awkwardly.<br />
I cursed internally– this must’ve been the time he and Carli rescheduled their prom shopping to. <br />
As if Mom wasn’t aware of the entire prom fiasco, she immediately began bombarding Brandon with her attention. “Oh, Brandon! Hi, dear! I haven’t seen you in a little while, how are you?”<br />
He answered, but I tuned them out. I walked back into the dressing room, and suddenly, despite the dress looking the exact same as it did before, I felt less pretty. If I was pretty, he would’ve asked me to go with him instead of Carli. If I was pretty, he probably would’ve asked me out long before that. If I was pretty, I wouldn’t be here right now.<br />
I unzipped the dress, hanging it back up on the hanger. I started feeling like I should just tell Mom, ‘Thanks, but no,’ and retreat back into the solitude of home, continuing with my plan to skip prom. But just as I walked back out, Mom scooped up the dress into her arms and immediately headed towards the register. My fate was sealed. I was going, whether I liked it or not.<br />
Brandon was still there, much to my chagrin. He smiled, and that smile made irritation bubble up in me. As unreasonable as it was, there was something about the fact that I was hurting and he was grinning innocently like nothing had happened that made me want to scream.<br />
“So… guess you’re coming to prom after all, hm?” His smile morphed into a teasing smirk.<br />
I crossed my arms, looking over at where Mom was paying for the dress. “Yeah, she’s makin’ me go. I guess if the worst comes to worst, I can Irish goodbye everyone and go somewhere else. Or I could fake being sick.”<br />
“Yeah, guess so,” he laughed a bit, a light, almost imperceptible laugh. It was more of a huff of air than anything. “Honestly, I think you should go. I mean, I’m going, and I said I wasn’t for the entirety of high school.”<br />
“Yeah, I know you did… but now you have Carli,” I sighed.<br />
“Well, fair enough. She’s the one who convinced me to change my mind.”<br />
“I’m guessing she’s here somewhere?” I gestured vaguely towards the racks of dresses.<br />
Brandon nodded. “Yeah, she decided on blue for our prom outfits and now she’s freaking out and running around the store to find the right shade of it or whatever.”<br />
“Cool, cool… I’m sure you’ll look… nice,” I force myself to give him a supportive grin. <br />
“Thanks, Val. I’m glad you changed your mind about going. It’ll be fun.”<br />
As the words left his lips, I wondered if he had even listened to anything I had just said. I stared up at him for a minute, and it truly felt like time had paused. I tried to regulate the tension I was feeling before fabricating another fake answer. “…Yeah, it’ll be cool, hopefully.”<br />
“Brandon!” Carli’s voice called loudly from the other side of the store, and I could see she was holding a slinky, royal blue evening gown up, probably wanting his opinion on it.<br />
“Be there in a second, okay, babe?” He yelled back to her before shooting me an apologetic look. “Sorry, Val. Gotta go help Carli. See you later, okay?” And before I could open my mouth, he was rushing off to Carli’s side.<br />
I probably looked ****** standing there, staring after the pair with my mouth agape. It was Mom who finally snapped me back to reality as she walked back towards me, my beautiful prom dress in one of those nice, striped shopping bags. She saw my staring and looked towards Brandon and Carli, then gave me a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Let’s go get pizza.”<br />
<br />
The pizza was good. I spilled Pepsi on my pants, but they’re black so it was whatever. I successfully swallowed my tears until we got home, and I finally spilled them into my pillow. I tried to bully my mind; remind myself that crying over a boy was dumb, but it didn’t do the trick like it usually did. After a few minutes of soaking the red silk pillowcase, I looked up to the posters plastered all over the wall, my vision bleary from the tears. Most of them were guys. Guys who were much more accomplished, much more interesting, much more handsome than Brandon. But still I cried. Because, in that moment, what did it matter? He was still my guy, even if that wasn’t factual anymore.<br />
I jumped when the phone began to ring, and without even really thinking to check, I picked up the receiver.<br />
“H-hello?” my voice was shaky as I mumbled into the phone, trying to sound as put-together as possible.<br />
“Hey, Val,” Aysel’s voice spoke up on the other end. “I just got off the phone with Brandon. Said he saw you at the mall,” I could practically hear the smirk on her face. “So I wanted to ask what happened. He didn’t say much about it.”<br />
I swiped at the tear tracks on my cheeks as if she could see them. “Y-yeah, I saw him. My mom is making me go, so I had to get a dress. And he was there with Carli. He saw me trying on the dress and said I looked good or some ****, then he got all buddy-buddy with my mom,” I responded. “It ******. A lot. I kinda wanted to engage in some self-immolation.”<br />
Aysel snickered on the other end. “Clearly. I can tell you’re… displeased.”<br />
“What gave it away? The sniffling? The shake in my voice?”<br />
“No, that you didn’t totally fly off the handle and start talking five miles a minute at the mention of his name.”<br />
“Okay, you got me there.”<br />
“So, you’re being forced to go to prom?”<br />
“Yep. Mom was all like, ‘you’re gonna regret it when you’re my age,’ or whatever,” I sighed, doing a half-assed imitation of her voice.<br />
“That *****. Want me to be your makeshit date?”<br />
“Don’t you mean ‘makeshift?’”<br />
“No, makeshit. I want to cause problems. I have some unfinished business with Mark Johnston.”<br />
“Sounds fun. Guess you’re my plus one.”<br />
“Hey, that rhymed!”<br />
“Maybe I should start a rap career.”<br />
“That Carli diss track is going to be legendary.”<br />
“More like Brandon diss track at this rate. Or both. Something about two birds, one stone.”<br />
“Should we pull a Carrie and pour pig blood on both of them?”<br />
“Nah, pigs are too good for that. Maybe just food coloring? Or used tampons.”<br />
Aysel cackled on the other end. “Yeah, the tampons. Perfect.”<br />
“Yeah, it’d be satisfying.”<br />
“When’s the prom, anyway?”<br />
“Day after tomorrow. Saturday.”<br />
“And all three of you waited this long to find outfits?”<br />
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going, and Brandon and Carli had the whole detention thing, plus apparently she was being really picky about finding the perfect dress.”<br />
“Guess I’ll just use what I wore to my school’s prom. And that should be indicative of what she’ll be like if he marries her.”<br />
I snorted a bit with laughter. “You’d think. Sorry for the short notice… but it’ll be sick now that you’re going.”<br />
<br />
Prom came quickly. The thought of it was a little less dreadful with Aysel by my side. She came over, we got ready in my room, playing albums and reminiscing on high school as a whole. We almost twinned, her purple dress heavily complimenting mine. Of course, Mom insisted on several pictures that she’ll probably forget about by next Tuesday. We went to dinner beforehand. Mom insisted we go somewhere nice, so we did– and in the dim, red velvet plastered booth, I was actually sort of happy I went. I looked cute, I was with my best friend, and I wasn’t thinking about Brandon for the time being. We got to eat steak and pasta and those chocolate lava cakes. We probably disturbed the other customers with how much and how loud we laughed. It was the best I had felt since Brandon had decided to go with Carli. <br />
Prom was being held at some banquet hall not too far from the school. It was moderately upscale, probably appropriate for a high school prom. Some radio hit R&B song with suggestive lyrics that the teachers obviously did not pick up on pumped through speakers inside. Even the rocks-for-brains jocks were dressed up.<br />
“It’s honestly kinda weird to see everyone looking so… nice,” I mused, trying to make sure Aysel could hear me over the booming music.<br />
“Yeah, usually they dress like wannabe gangbangers or like they rolled out of bed, so… I’ve gotta give them some credit,” Aysel said, her expression showing genuine awe.<br />
“Y’know, I’m really not gonna miss these people. At all.”<br />
“No ****. They’re idiots.”<br />
Then I spotted Brandon and Carli. They were getting their picture taken in front of one of those typical prom moon things. “Don’t look now…”<br />
And, despite my words, Aysel turned around to look over at them. “Ha! They look… fashionably challenged.”<br />
“You think we should go take pictures too? We’d outfashion them for sure.”<br />
Without a word, Aysel was up and heading for the line. I followed suit, but I was unable to tear my gaze from the couple. They held hands as they walked out of the photo area, giggling and sharing ******, sickly sweet smiles. Now, instead of wanting to die on the spot, I wanted them to die on the spot.<br />
“Hey, Val, stop pouting and come take a photo,” Aysel waved me over behind the camera. As we posed together, you could see the mixed reactions on the other peoples’ faces– confusion, shock, judgement, disgust, even amusement. It took me a second to realize that we were apparently the first non-couple to take a picture here, and they thought we were genuinely each others’ dates.<br />
“Ewww, lesbians! Disgusting freaks!” a voice called from the line.<br />
“Is that MARK JOHNSTON?!” Aysel yelled, and I realized **** was about to go down until a chaperone came over to reprimand him– so I seized the opportunity for us to sneak away and outside.<br />
The stone steps served as our seating, and only a few other attendees littered the courtyard– mostly kissing couples. Aysel and I watched and made fun of them– maybe it soothed our singleness.<br />
“Okay, maybe I’m a little glad I went,” I finally admitted. “But not that much. We’d still be having fun somewhere else. But also, I kinda am happy.”<br />
“I think we’ve made the most of it,” Aysel nodded. <br />
“Yo, Val! Aysel!” Brandon’s familiar voice called to us from behind.<br />
“Wow, he knows *********** a moment,” Aysel scoffed, low enough that only I could hear.<br />
We turned to face him, watching as he sat down by me and lit the tip of his cigarette. “Guess you didn’t play sick.”<br />
I shook my head. “Nope. I was a big girl and showed up,” I responded with a nice helping of sarcasm. <br />
Brandon chuckled. “That’s the Val we all love.”<br />
Even if it was innocuous to him, it stung inside. Love? Then why Carli and not me?<br />
His eyes made their way over to Aysel, who was absentmindedly checking out her nails. “And I see you brought Aysel. It’s like the group’s back together.”<br />
“I mean, not quite. There’s no Mark, and I doubt Aysel would ever allow that to happen again,” I smirk, elbowing her arm lightly to emphasise my teasing. She grumbled something about wanting to stab him, which made Brandon giggle.<br />
“Okay, true. No Mark. But close enough, right?” He took a long drag before offering the cigarette to us. I shook my head, but Aysel reached out and took it, bringing it to her burgundy lips.<br />
“So… where’s that Carli, Brandon?” Aysel raised an eyebrow, ever the instigator.<br />
“The bathroom. She went with some of her friends and you know how long that can take,” he grinned before taking the cigarette back from Aysel.<br />
“Hm. How’s she working for you as a date?” she pushed.<br />
“Actually…” Brandon trailed off. His tone was unclear, and his emotions sounded mixed. My heart might as well have stopped in its tracks. Is this it? Is this the moment where he decides Carli isn’t for him? Where he realizes it was me all along?<br />
“Actually…?” Aysel echoed, trying to get him to provide a real answer. I held my breath. I tried to look nonchalant, brushing some hair out of my face, but I could feel my hands shake. I was finally getting my fairytale ending…<br />
“…pretty good. She’s really sweet. I like her a lot. I’m glad I got to go with her. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m happy she convinced me to come! She’s awesome,” he flashes a smile, and it’s the most genuine I’ve ever seen.<br />
My heart dropped into my stomach, then into my pelvic floor, then fell out of me entirely. I hoped my face didn’t show too much of my sheer, unadulterated disappointment. What about that happy ending?<br />
“That’s cool,” Aysel responded with a lack of amusement, and I could pick up that she was about as displeased as me. <br />
Naturally, he had no idea that we were not thrilled for him. “Thanks, guys. I think I really like her, y’know?”<br />
“Oh, yeah, I feel ya,” Aysel nods, her voice almost mocking.<br />
“I should probably go find Carli. I bet she’s out of the bathroom by now, and I don’t want her to miss the slow dance. Catch you two later,” he threw the cigarette into a nearby trashcan like the complete idiot he is, then scurried off like the rat he is back into the banquet hall. <br />
I normally would’ve cried, but I think by then I was out of tears. I was just… numb. Dull. Void.<br />
“What a ****,” Aysel huffed. “You good, Val?”<br />
I looked up from my spaced-out state. “Hm? Oh, yeah… I guess. As good as I can be, I think.”<br />
“Honestly, Val? I thought you were gonna crack and confess.”<br />
I shook my head a bunch. “Nope, that’s a secret I’m taking to the grave.”<br />
<br />
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