by Janet Leigh
~
We had decided to go to prom together so Jake wouldn’t have to break any hearts by picking just one girl, and I wasn’t dating at the moment. Most of the boys at school were either afraid Eli would get them for dating his baby sister or were just plain old boring. I was looking for a guy who would make my toes curl.
Luckily for me, I was blessed with my mom’s long legs and subtle curves. When puberty kicked in, I grew to five seven and made a few heads turn at school. My dishwater-blond hair was introduced to highlights, and I now felt more comfortable around Jake’s cheerleaders. I even made friends with a few of them.
My prom dress was from Neiman Marcus, a deep midnight blue. My mom told me it made my eyes look like the color of fresh blueberries. I guess that was a compliment from a food connoisseur. The dress had straps that hooked around my neck halter fashion and pushed my boobs up an extra cup size. I was already a 34C—so, Barbie, eat your heart out. I wore my hair up like Shania Twain on her Woman in Me CD and put on a pair of stunning drop earrings. I slid my freshly painted toes into some Jimmy Choo stilettos that I had saved for six months to buy off the clearance rack at Neiman’s. I thought I looked pretty good even without the fairy godmother. I mean, I was always stylish, but tonight I looked hot.
I needed a necklace that would complete my ensemble. As I looked in the mirror, my old book bag looked back at me from the corner of my bedpost. Was it still there? How did I forget to put it away? I dumped the contents out on my bed: a roll of cherry lifesavers (my favorite), an old movie-ticket stub to see Spider-Man 2 (I went with Jake), some bubblegum lip gloss, and three pennies. And there it was—the necklace from Aunt Elma. The small blue and white diamonds sparkled up at me. The moon was smiling; it was perfect. I put it on and immediately felt a warm, comforting feeling spread over my whole body.
A sexy whistle sounded from the doorway. “Wow, you look great!” It was Eli; I ran over to give him a hug.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”
“I came home to make sure your date is threatened properly.”
“Don’t worry, it’s only Jake.”
“I know, Mom told me, but even Jake needs to be warned occasionally. It does take all the fun away. Couldn’t you get a date with a guy I could abuse?”
“Nope, I feel like going with Jake. The prom will be more fun going with a friend.”
“Well, don’t put too much faith in Jake. When he sees you in that dress, ‘friend’ may have a new meaning,” Eli said, making air quotes with his fingers.
“You are so full of crap; I am not Jake’s type anyway.”
“Whatever you say, sis.” Eli smirked.
“I think I’m ready.” I turned and headed toward the stairs. Eli jumped ahead of me, propped his hip on the banister, and slid down like he had many times when we were growing up. Jeez, boys!
“Doo-doo-do, announcing Miss Jennifer Cloud,” Eli introduced me, making little piping gestures with his fingers.
Rolling my eyes heavenward, I went downstairs. Mom, Dad, and Jake were standing at the bottom of the staircase. They were all looking at me like I was the Queen of England.
“What?” I asked, knowing full well I looked fabuloso.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Dad replied with his eyes a little teary.
Jake just stood there, mouth open, holding a corsage in a plastic box. Eli was standing behind him, mouthing “told you so” to me.
“You look pretty,” Jake stammered, thrusting the corsage box at me.
My dad patted Jake on the shoulder and took the box, holding it open for Jake to remove the corsage and slide it onto my wrist.
“OK now, you know to be home by midnight,” Mom said, snapping a picture. “I know what goes on at these so-called chaperoned dances, and I don’t want you kids out so late, drunk drivers and all.”
“Yes ma’am,” Jake said, opening the door for me. I walked outside to a black stretch limousine waiting at the curb.
“Oh my God! Jake, you rented a limo? This is so perfect.” I was in awe.
“This is senior prom—we should do it right.” He smiled.
“You’re the best, Jake.” And I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“I know, I rock.” He put his elbow out for me, and I slid my hand through. My mom took a few more pictures, and we were off.
Prom was held every year at the Four Seasons hotel. It was very glamorous with its high ceilings and sparkling chandeliers. We ate the catered food, talked with our friends about college plans, and danced our hearts out to Bon Jovi. The D.J. announced the next song would be the last slow dance of the evening. I started back to my seat, knowing there would be a long line of girls begging to dance with Jake. Suddenly he grabbed my hand and pulled me close.
“Jake?” I asked, questioning his choice of partners.
“Let’s just dance this last one together,” he said. As he pulled me to him, his embrace felt warm and comfy. He was the perfect height, and my head rested on his shoulder. He smelled like Abercrombie cologne. I felt safe. The sound of Madonna’s eighties hit, “Crazy for You” played in the background as we swayed together. I noticed the heads of envious girls turning from around the ballroom, but I didn’t care. Jake was comfortable, like my favorite pair of boots. The fit was perfect, they looked great, and I could wear them for hours without getting a blister. As the music relaxed into the final chorus, Madonna reminded me I was crazy for you, and then Jake, my best friend since fourth grade, did the unexpected. He kissed me. Not one of those short, brotherly kisses I usually get but a long kiss. I was shocked, but I kissed him back. I could hear the bemused gasps of girls all around me. When we broke, the song ended. I looked up at him with confused eyes.
The room was dim, lit only by soft-side lights and the disco ball hanging over the dance floor, but I could have sworn Jake was blushing. We stood staring at each other, then he seemed to snap out of the dream world that held him prisoner.
He looked around at the open mouths of the couples dancing close to us and said, “That was pretty good. If I had known you could kiss like that, I would have made my move on you sooner.”
Van Halen’s “Jump” blared from the speakers, and one of Jake’s buddies from track danced up next to us and gave Jake a fist bump. “Way to go, my man,” he said as he danced off with his date.
Jake, well aware of the attention we were drawing, said, “Maybe we should get a room here.”
Crap, the womanizing snake has appeared. “If I had known you were going to treat me like one of your real dates, I would have brought some condoms!”
I stormed off the dance floor. We didn’t talk on the way home. Jake tried to apologize when we got into the car, but he fumbled for the words, and I wasn’t in the mood to hear them. I fumed silently all the way home. How could he ruin our friendship by thinking I would just put out on prom night? Part of me wanted to remind him of my right hook he had seen in fourth grade, but the other part was secretly having an egotistical moment glorying in the fact that Jake wanted to be with me. Is this the way the other girls feel when he gives them a smidgen of attention? I pushed the thought away and focused on the anger bubbling up in my throat.
I knew my mom would not be waiting up for details, having already had many prom experiences with my sister and brother, so I asked the driver to drop me off so I could go in through the back door. The limo pulled up to the back of my house. I got out and slammed the door behind me. I marched with purpose, opening the gate to our backyard and letting it bang shut before Jake could reach me. He caught me before I made it to the back door.
“Jen, wait,” he said. I stopped and turned to meet his gaze. He had his serious face on. The same one that told Butchie Weston in sixth grade if he didn’t quit talking about my hooters, he would knock his block off.
“I’m sorry.” He shrugged, but his brown eyes never left mine. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. But these past few months, the thought of
not seeing you every day has scared me. Maybe the reason I haven’t picked one girl is because the one I want to be with is you.”
“C’mon, Jake,” I said moving toward him. “We’ve been friends forever. How can we do the girlfriend-boyfriend thing?”
“Does that mean you might be interested?” His mouth turned up into an almost smile, and his dimples winked out at me.
“I don’t know. What about all your other girlfriends?”
“When I saw you tonight, I didn’t think about any other girl,” he said. “Let’s try, OK?” And then he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were warm and gentle. I knew this would be a huge deal between us, but maybe he was the one. I looked at my toes—did they curl? My stomach was going flippity-flop, and my heart was racing a mile a minute.
“OK,” I finally agreed, “let’s give it a go.”
He looked down at me. The full moon shone brightly behind him, making a halo appear around his head. His lips brushed mine, and we embraced each other in a different way than we had in the past. I felt a tingle of excitement spark through my nerve endings like that feeling I used to get on Christmas morning when I would rush downstairs to see what new present Santa had left.
“I’d better go; the driver has to be back by one o’clock.” I smiled up at him, and he gave me one last good-night kiss. “This was a good prom. Have sweet dreams, Jen.” He turned and left out the back gate.
