1980s Prom Tale

1980s Prom Night Tale

All characters are eighteen years old and a week away from high school graduation.

I'm in a tuxedo, eating my steak with a French name that I'm sure I mispronounced while ordering, when a shoeless foot worms its way under my left pant leg. Toes are suddenly gliding up my shin. Geometry wasn't my strongest subject, but my date is sitting right next to me. Of the seven people I'm at this table with, it is least likely, based on angles and accessibility, that the intruding foot belongs to her. I survey the faces that surround me for a clue, but they all remain inscrutable. My cheeks flush a crimson red as the foot rises as high as the fabric of my rented pants will allow. The toes give one more wiggle and then the foot slides back down my shin before disappearing.

How did I even get to this place and time? I figured prom night would come and go while I stayed at home like the lame loser most people think I am. High school is almost over and I've never even been on a date. Prom is a night for couples and that rules me out. I really didn't want to go alone and hang out by a big bowl of spiked punch while the rest of my friends danced with someone special. My parents thought I should go. Senior Prom is one of life's big moments, my mom told me. Right. Except I don't have anyone meaningful to share it with. I never have.

But I do have a group of friends; there are eight of us. It was way back in the third grade when Chris, Keith and I (Timmy) were all grouped together for the science fair. Our project was a disaster, but we became friends and stayed close all these years. Keith has a never-ending schedule of family obligations filling his weekends, so Chris and I had like a million sleepovers without him. Chris and I becoming best friends was a no-brainer. Keith never had any hard feelings and we always included him whenever he was around.

It was freshman year of high school when Keith's cousin Ricky moved here to West Virginia from Chicago. Ricky had to start high school in a new state knowing only his cousin, which sucked, so we understood when Keith invited Ricky into our group and our trio became a quartet. Ricky was a nice guy, but he and I only ever connected within the group. We never had any one-on-one time and I kind of didn't know him as an individual. Whenever the four of us were together and Chis and Keith would happen to leave the room at the same time, there would be this heavy awkward silence between us that lasted all the way until our other friends returned. I never understood why but that's just how it was between us.

By the second half of sophomore year, we were all sixteen and allowed by our parents to date. That didn't seem to mean much to Ricky and I, but Chris and Keith both found girlfriends immediately. It wasn't surprising. They're both good looking guys and they seem to have a natural charm that Ricky and I were not graced with. Their girlfriends, Tracy and Becky, each have best friends - Paige and Sarah. So, for more than two years now, the eight of us have become a tight crew.

I initially thought I'd resent the unplanned addition of the four girls to our friend group, but the truth is, the four girls are actually pretty awesome. We all just clicked immediately, which is something that to this day hasn't happened between Ricky and I. I never felt bitter about Chris and Keith having girlfriends because through it all, Chris is first and always my best friend. And despite having had the same girlfriend for more than two years now, he always makes special time for me. I love him for that. I try not to think about how graduation is in a week and going off to different colleges in different states looms ahead of us in just a few months. We've been best friends for nine years. It's easy to say that we always will be, but who knows if it's true? Who knows where life will take us?

So, two months ago, Chris campaigned hard for me to ask Paige to go to prom. I thought he was joking. It would be ridiculously weird. Paige is my friend. Going to prom with her would feel like dancing with my sister. But Chris wouldn't let it go.

"Who knows how many more times we'll all get to hang out? Come on, dude. All eight of us will be there. Dinner before, sleepovers after... Keith is getting Ricky to ask Sarah so it'll be all eight of us like always. We'll just be paired up in four couples."

He played the best-friend-guilt card to perfection. He's always been there for me, so I of course will do this for him. It made my parents thrilled. Not every kid dates in high school, and while they'd never say it out loud, I think they were starting to get a little worried about me. They have no idea.

So, I rented a tux with a bow tie and cummerbund that perfectly matched Paige's dress. I spent an hour getting ready, restyling my hair four times. It was either too spiky or not spiky enough before I got it just right. After embarrassing photo sessions with all eight sets of parents, the eight of us all fit perfectly into one stretch limo. We went out to a steakhouse and sat at one large round table, eating fancy food that was nothing like the burgers and fries we usually shared as a group.

And now here we are. As we eat, I consider my date for the night. Paige is a sweet girl. Tracy told me a few months back that she had a sneaking suspicion that Paige had a secret crush on someone. When she teased her about it, Paige would not say who it was or even admit it was true. But is it? Am I ruining her prom night? By agreeing to go with me did she sacrifice following her heart? If anyone else asked her, she didn't tell me. Just because my heart's not in it doesn't mean this night doesn't mean something to her. For her sake, I really should commit to the role. The boys in this school are idiots for not asking her. She should not have been available to be my friend-date. I know she doesn't expect that she and I will become a couple after tonight, but still. I can step up and make tonight memorable for her.

I'm pretty sure that Ricky and Sarah are in the same boat; convinced by dating best friends Keith and Becky to come to prom as a couple. We're all friends and we'll have a good time, but this is prom. It's not just another casual hangout. I'm wearing rented shoes, but they're not from the bowling alley with a big red "10.5" on the heel. This is not just a movie or another lame party either. It's prom. It should be dope.

I snap out of my daze when Keith says to me, "Timmy, didn't you tell me you're going to Champlain in Vermont?"

I nod.

"Did you know that Ricky is too? That's cool. You already have a college friend and you haven't even started yet. Maybe you two should room together."

Ricky and I only work in a group dynamic setting. It's kind of an unspoken thing that all eight of us are aware of. Without some combination of the other six present, he and I would be strangers.

Ricky answers Keith for me, "I don't think freshmen get to have a say in the matter. You go where you're told to go."

Chris says, "But still. You'll both be there. I wish one of the seven of you was going to my school."

"College is a big place," I say. "Nothing like high school in a small town. Ricky and I might never see each other."

The shoeless foot returns to molest my leg again.

~~

The actual dance is in the school gym. Cheap decorations and awkward parental chaperones do little to camouflage the fact that this is still the gym. A house of horrors. I have a flashback of team basketball games. Shirts versus skins. Why was I always on skins? Seriously? Every freaking time. I think the gym teacher was targeting me, but why? I was never a musclebound, iron-pumping kind of a guy. I had nothing special to show off. But every day Mr. Stone would look me right in the eye, point and say, "Timmy, skins". By the odds alone, it should have evened out. It never did. I don't know why I even bothered putting a shirt on for gym class. Within minutes I was always told to strip it off.

Forcing high school boys to play team sports shirtless is borderline child abuse, but the real abuse came in the humid smelly locker room afterward. Pushing, shoving, name-calling, towel snapping and general humiliation. And the presence of a male gym teacher in the locker room - Mr. Stone - who never intervened, was more creepy than preventative. I will not miss high school.

Paige and I dance to Take My Breath Away, I've Had the Time of My Life and I Want To Know What Love Is. At some point we trade partners one dance at a time until the couples end up all back together again. Fancy clothes, too much hairspray and overdoses of perfume and cologne almost (but don't quite) mask the lingering scent of sweat and feet in the air. If a room ever needed better ventilation, this is it. Eventually, we disperse and the bigger group is no more. Paige excuses herself to the restroom and I drift over to the punchbowl. Standing here, I realize that my fear has come true; it's just me and the damn punchbowl. I don't think the punch is spiked, but it still tastes like shit.

Billy, a kid I know from Spanish class, sidles up to me and says, "I thought you two were just friends?"

"Paige?" I look at Billy but I can't see his eyes. He's wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses. Inside. At night. I want to tell him that Corey Heart was like forever ago and he looks like an idiot. But, he's an idiot who also happens to be one of the few decent guys in this school, so instead I say, "We are."

He shakes his head, "Is that what she thinks? I asked her to prom long before you did and she turned me down. And I wasn't the first one either. She said 'yes' to you." He gives my arm a play-punch and leaves me standing there.

Shit. I am going to end up hurting her. Why would she turn down real offers and say yes to me? I can't really be her secret crush, can I?

I realize that it's been about fifteen minutes and Paige has not returned. I know she drank some punch earlier, maybe it is spiked. But now that I think about it, I haven't seen any of my friends in a long time. When one finally appears, it's not my date. It's Chris.

My best friend's smile envelopes his face when he sees me, like it has for nine years now. He puts a hand on my shoulder and says, "Take a walk with me."

"Where's Tracy?"

"Hanging with Keith and Becky. She knows I'll be right back."

He sneaks us out the gym doors and leads us down the hall, dimly lit by scattered emergency lights.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"To your prom." He grins at me.

"Umm, where have we been so far?"

"So far we've been to everyone else's prom. Now it's your turn." He hooks his arm around my shoulders as we walk down the hall and past the cafeteria.

"Chris, I can't just abandon Paige."

He sighs, "I didn't twist your arm into asking Paige to prom for my benefit. I mean, sure, it's cool that my best friend is here and all, but I did it for you. You deserve a memorable night as much as anyone."

We are now standing in front of the closed choir room door. Chris is not only in the choir, but he is a trusted section leader. The teacher gave him a copy of the key as he sometimes runs after school practices. He takes the key out of his pocket and turns to me before inserting it into the lock.

Paige disappeared a while ago. What has Chris cooked up here? Is she on the other side of this door expecting some romantic alone time, just the two of us? I say, "Umm, Chris..."

"Timmy, you've been my best friend for as long as I can remember." He looks me hard in the eyes, "I know you like no one else. I mean...I really know."

I swallow. What does he think he knows? He sees that I'm starting to tremble and sweat.

His smile fades and he turns serious. "If I ever did or said anything that made you think you couldn't tell me..." he trails off.

Suddenly I'm no longer afraid that Paige is on the other side of the door. Now I put my hand on his shoulder, but I have no words. I could have told Chris. I should have told Chris. I just didn't want to weird him out. But neither of us have actually said the words yet and I am still only 90% certain that he means what I think he means. So, I remain quiet and nervous as he says, "Your prom is right this way."

He sticks the key in the door and it swings open. With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me inside first and he closes the door behind us. The room appears to be empty, but then a shadow moves in the dark corner. A figure emerges from behind the risers and my heartrate kicks up as I recognize the walk, the posture, the wavy windblown hair... He's finally out of the shadows and Ricky's smiling face is revealed.

My cheeks are burning red. I turn to Chris with misty eyes but it's him who says, "Dude, you're gonna make me cry."

I hug the shit out of him, "Not telling you was never... Look, you were always gonna be the first one..."

He gives me a strong squeeze then breaks us apart, "There's plenty of time for us to talk later. Right now I figure you two have about a half an hour for your own private prom."

"What about Paige and Sarah?" I ask.

"They're fine. They're together in the theatre. The last thing they're worried about right now is the two of you."

"They...?" I feel like I'm playing catch-up here, but puzzle pieces are beginning to fall into place. Paige has had a crush on someone for a while now, but we never knew who the object of her desires was. She didn't turn down Billy and countless other guys because she wanted to experience prom with her friend Timmy. I, Timmy, was her cover story. Her beard. Just like she was for me - except I wasn't in on this little secret plan. Chris, Keith, Tracy and Becky orchestrated all of this. I stammer, "So Paige and Sarah..."

"Yes, you clueless idiot." Chris shakes his head. "Why do you think you two guys are wearing matching ties?"

"Because we matched our dates," I say in realization.

Chris nods, "Your dates who both happen to be wearing teal dresses. Matching teal dresses. Coincidence? I think not."

He slips a cassette into the boombox that's sitting on the piano. He presses play and True Colors fills the room. My arms tingle with goosebumps. Chris gives me a one-handed shove and I stumble closer to Ricky.

Chris says, "I think I know what I know, but I'm gonna need some confirmation here. Kiss him and prove to me that this is real. That it wasn't all for nothing."

Who am I to deny my best friend his wish? I give Ricky a PG-13 kiss and Chris hoots. "Oh my god! You guys are too cute! I think I might barf!"

All three of us laugh.

Chris grabs the door handle, "You two are not locked in, but the rest of the world is locked out. Thirty minutes. You have until the end of the tape. When the songs run out, your time is up. Meet the rest of us back at our table in the gym." He slips out and we can see the thumb-lock turn as he locks the door from the outside.

True Colors ends and Never Surrender begins. I look at my friend. My friend who I hardly know outside of the group. Or, the guy I used to hardly know. I reach out my hand and he takes it. The sensation is electric.

Ricky...

~~

Three months earlier.

I was struggling in my Calculus class. Actually, we all were. The teacher, Mr. Byers (who happened to look like Santa Claus) was awful. It was his last year before retirement, but he should have already been gone. Everyone was failing his class, so he was forced to grade on a curve. Even still, I was only getting a "C". And so was Ricky. He and I were the only two of our octet who were in that class. Neither of us could risk a failing grade so close to graduation.

So, Ricky invited me to come over to his house to study and work on our homework problems together. Despite being sort-of-friends for more than three years, I'd never been to his house. He'd only been to mine when our other friends were there too. I was a little nervous. For my part, the weird friendship vibe thing between us had nothing to do with me liking him any less than the others. It had everything to do with how seeing him and being near him made me feel. I would get unexplainable odd flutters. Ricky was freaking cute, that was an undeniable fact, but why did his cuteness make my stomach do somersaults? From the age I first started "noticing" people, those people were always boys. It was in my DNA. It was who I was, like it or not. And while I could find something cute in almost any and every boy, none of them ever made me feel the tingles that Ricky made me feel. I didn't know why he made me tingle. He wasn't the cutest at any one thing but when all of his cute parts were put together into one beautiful boy, it was magic.

So I didn't understand it for a long time. And then one day my genius brain figured it out: I'm gay and I like Ricky. I felt guilty. Like I was bad, or at least wrong. Maybe if I lived in New York or San Francisco or something, then who knows? But here in Nowhere Town West Virginia? Gay people aren't real here. I must not be real. But the electricity in the air when he entered a room sure felt real. And right.

I walked to his house with him after school and neither of us said a word the whole way. Once there, he offered me a soda, but I declined. We headed up to his bedroom and he closed and locked his door. His modest room was clean enough, but it smelled like boy. Not in a bad way; I loved it. It was a potpourri of a leather baseball mitt, books, cheap cologne and sneakers. It was wonderfully intoxicating.

His desk was small. He offered it to me and he sat on his bed after spilling out the contents of his backpack. We set about the business of figuring out how to do our homework problems. Despite the incompetence of the teacher, Ricky and I are both reasonably intelligent students and eventually, it started to make sense. He tried to get comfortable doing his work on the bed. I watched in mesmerized silence as he languidly rolled into numerous positions, none of which completely satisfied him. He'd lie on his back with socked feet against the wall above his headboard. He'd roll on his side and prop his head up with his wrist. He'd flop on his stomach and lean on his elbows with the smooth skin of his side above his hip bone exposed as his shirt rode up higher each time he twisted positions. I offered to sit on the floor so he could have his desk back. He scoffed and assured me that he was raised to have manners. His guest would have the chair.

We were down to our last problem when Ricky ran out of room in his notebook. He had a blank one on the shelf above his desk. The whole time we worked, my back had been to the desk with my own notebook in my lap so we could talk and work through this shit together. Ricky rose from the bed and stood right in front of me. He had to stretch and reach in order to snag the notebook. When he did so, I couldn't help but notice that the bottom button of his shirt had come undone, probably during all of his fidgeting on the bed. I was getting teased by the beautiful sight of stretched out taught skin, smooth, vulnerable and only inches from my face. I never knew a lower abdomen could be so...tempting, arousing...sexy. I desperately wanted to touch it. I wanted to make it quiver. I wanted to give it goosebumps. I wanted to lick it. Suddenly my crotch was threatening the seams of my jeans.

And then he lost his balance. I had to catch him to stop him from falling on me. My hands flew up to his waist and I steadied him as I grabbed the bare skin beneath his billowing shirt. I had just been fantasizing about stroking the teasing strip of sensitive skin above his waistband, but now I was gripping his soft warmth in wonderment as I realized my wish had come true.