by Dahlia Adler
I looked down at my toes as we drove to Sam’s, trying to decide how I felt about the color. I’d gone for a light neutral; everything else just seemed impossible with the fuchsia shoes. Van and I still weren’t speaking, so going for mani-pedis had turned into yet another Duncan-woman extravaganza. Lucy was currently sporting some sort of fluorescent orange shade on her fingers and a slime green on her toes. Very chic.
It was only a five-minute drive to Sam’s, and before the commercials had even ended on the radio, we were pulling up in front of his Spanish-style house, where a bunch of other cars were already parked.
“Looks like we’re the last ones here,” Nate observed.
I nodded, unsure if I was supposed to apologize that my mother had held us up for an extra few minutes to take pictures. As if it was our fault that my father was in the hospital, missing it all. I could feel myself growing annoyed, but then I glanced over at Nate and knew I was overreacting. I let myself out of the car.
I saw Dana first; if she was still pissed at me, it didn’t show. “Alllllllly!” she squealed, running over as fast as her twenty-inch heels could carry her to envelop me in a hug. “I’m so excited you’re here.”
“You too,” I replied, because it seemed like the right thing to say. “I love your dress.” It was cute, in a very prom-y way, all pink and ruffled. Like maybe what I should’ve been wearing instead of my sparkly gold mini thing, which suddenly looked more appropriate for a night on one of Van’s red carpets instead of Hayden High’s.
Dana swept us inside, where the others were already laughing, taking pictures of one another, and drinking flutes of champagne under Sam’s mother’s watchful eye. Nate and I went over to say hello and accepted our own flutes before posing for pictures with the rest of them.
I smiled and lifted my champagne with the crowd; smiled and kissed Nate on the cheek with one foot lifted in the air; smiled with my arms around Dana, Sam’s girlfriend Leila, and a pretty girl I was pretty sure I’d never even seen before whose name turned out to be Morgan.
“You’re Vanessa Park’s friend, right?” she asked as we lined up in front of the Washingtons’ mantel, holding out our corsage wrists for the camera.
“Uh-huh.” I plastered yet another smile on my face, hoping that the fact that we were posing would shut her up, which of course it didn’t.
“Is it true that you and Nate went on a date with her and Liam Holloway?”
I rolled my eyes toward Nate, but he simply shrugged. Fortunately, Sam’s mother chose that moment to tell us to smile for a picture.
“Liam’s so hot,” Morgan announced as soon as Mrs. Washington pressed the button. “I mean, not as hot as these guys,” she said flirtatiously as she rejoined Chase.
“No, he’s pretty damn hot,” Jack Fuentes said with a grin as he affectionately straightened Ethan Reinhardt’s bowtie. “He’s on both of our lists.”
“Your lists?” asked Dana.
Ethan elbowed Jack and gestured at Mrs. Washington, who was definitely within earshot. I rolled my eyes. “Celebrities they’re allowed to screw without it counting as cheating,” I informed her, keeping my voice low.
As if Jack and Ethan would ever cheat on each other. The only “out” couple in the entire school at present, they’d been together since they were assigned to be lab partners in bio freshman year. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up being the one couple from the senior class to actually make it. Sam and Leila had been going strong for a while as well, but it was pretty well known that her conservative Persian parents weren’t thrilled about her dating someone who didn’t share her roots.
“Liam would be thrilled,” I informed Jack and Ethan without thinking, smiling as I imagined his reaction. Liam had once complained that he didn’t get nearly enough gay fan mail for him to believe he was as attractive as people said.
“So you guys are close?” asked Ethan, a curious smile lighting up his handsome face.
“Not exactly,” I muttered, shifting my eyes to the floor as I felt Nate’s gaze on me. I guess the cat was out of the bag on the whole break-up thing.
“So,” Leila said brightly, after she and Sam had posed for one last picture, “everyone ready to go? The limo’s here.”
We all said our goodbyes and thank-yous to Sam’s mom and started outside, but I felt Nate’s hand slip into mine, pulling me back slightly, and I knew exactly what was coming.
“Hey, Duncan,” he said, his voice low in my ear, “something you’re not telling me?”
“Sounds like I just told you,” I responded in the same low voice. “Surprise—your prom date is actually single.”
“He broke up with you?”
I snorted. “Appreciate the vote of confidence, Donovan, but yours truly did the breaking, thank you.” Not that it made me feel any better.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? You’re the one who’s been telling me for weeks how it’s all bullshit, how trying to date an actor is an idiot move. You want a medal for being right?”
Nate’s expression was unreadable. “Duncan—”
“Hey, lovebirds, get in the limo!” Sam hollered from where he’d stuck his head out of the sunroof. “You guys wanna miss the whole dance or what?”
Actually, I kind of did, but that would certainly not fall under the criteria of “normal,” so I flounced ahead of Nate and made my way into the limo. I squished in between Morgan and Dana, who were pouring from yet another bottle of champagne.
I wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory since the mention of Liam’s name. Or rather, I couldn’t help thinking how nice it’d be to be celebrating with him instead. It was like that ill-fated day at the beach all over again, except instead of wishing Liam was the one rubbing sunscreen on my back and playfully kicking sand at my feet, I wished he were the one intertwining his arm with mine as we drank from our champagne flutes. What the hell was I even doing, trying to have a romantic evening with anyone else?
Stop it, I ordered myself as I drained my champagne. Liam is at a fucking party in New York City right now, where he’s probably getting it on with Vanessa. I held out my flute for a refill. If he wanted to be here with you, he would be. I felt Nate slip his arm around my shoulders then, and I let him, even snuggling into the comfort of his hold. From somewhere very far away, I heard Vanessa’s words about how much Liam hated Nate floating around my brain, but my brain retorted with a sharp, Screw you, and screw Liam.
Screw Liam… I giggled as I thought about how I probably would’ve been doing that in just a few hours if he’d agreed to come with me.
“What’s so funny?” Nate asked playfully.
Oops. “Too much champagne,” I said, which struck me as so funny that I dissolved into giggles again, after which I took another long drink.
The chatter continued on around me, and I tried to participate as much as possible while still getting in plenty of champagne. By the time we arrived at the ballroom of the Hyatt where the prom was being held, I was pleasantly buzzed and in a considerably better mood.
The theme of the prom was “In the Jungle,” and the ballroom actually looked pretty stunning covered in glossy leaves and tropical flowers. I could’ve done without the random jungle noises like hooting monkeys startling me every few minutes, but the overall effect was pretty and coordinated quite nicely with my outfit.
“I’d offer to get you some punch, but I’m sure it’s been spiked by now and I think you had enough in the limo,” Nate teased as we walked into the room. His arm had slipped from my shoulders down to my waist, but I wasn’t complaining. So sue me—it was nice to feel somebody’s touch, since I obviously wouldn’t be feeling Liam’s again. “Do you want to go get our picture taken?”
“Actually, punch sounds positively delightful,” I said, steering us toward the refreshment table. “Look at that beautiful green color! Clearly meant to be imbibed.”
Nate looked doubtful, but he poured us each a glass. “To prom!” I toasted as we clinked gla
sses. If someone had spiked the punch, I didn’t taste it, but Nate must have because he instantly grimaced. Oh, well, more for me!
Once I had my fill, we went off to take our delightful date-y picture before I let Nate whirl me onto the dance floor. I wasn’t a particularly good dancer, but neither was he, so we did just fine. Until he opened his mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
“You know.” He made a face. “The guy.”
“Oh.” I made my own face. “No. Thanks.”
He nodded and kept moving. One song rolled into another, and after a while, Sam and Leila came to hang out with us, followed by Chase and a camera-bearing Morgan. I had to remind myself I wasn’t actually a celebrity when Morgan snapped a candid of Nate and me laughing at some joke Chase had told. Apparently, I still had paparazzi-PTSD.
“Have you guys voted for Prom King and Queen yet?” asked Leila.
“I don’t even know who’s in the running,” I admitted.
“Nobody but Macy Easton for queen, really,” said Leila, rolling her eyes. “There isn’t really any point in voting for anyone else.”
“We should just cross out ‘Queen’ and do a write-in for Jack and Ethan,” I suggested. I wasn’t sure if I was kidding, but at least in my tipsy mind, it sounded like a wonderful idea. Everyone else agreed, and we promptly swarmed over to the voting booth to cast our ballots and recommend to everyone around us to do the same.
From there, we went back to the dance floor, where we were joined shortly by a laughing Jack and Ethan who demanded to know whose idea it was to have them nominated co-kings.
“I cannot tell a lie,” I said dramatically, draping the back of my hand over my forehead. “It was I. Or me. Whatever the grammatically correct response to that question is.”
Ethan laughed and swung me around. “I like the way you think, girl. Wish we’d hung out more often.”
“So do I,” I said, and I meant it. There actually were some fun, decent people walking the halls of Hayden High. I hated how long it had taken me to realize that. Sure, I’d had Dana and Leni and Nate, and I’d always been friendly with other people in my classes or on the debate team or newspaper, but I’d also had a lot more time with Van, and I’d let myself think that was good enough. Well, obviously it wasn’t, because she was AWOL, off partying in New York with my ex, and I was having a pretty damn good time without her.
We continued to dance and drink, and drink and dance, and pose for pictures, and when Jack and Ethan won Prom King and King, no one whooped and cheered louder than our limo. They insisted on taking a picture with me in between them, and Jack even let me pose with his crown. Then it was time for the last dance of the night—a slow one—and Nate pulled me into his arms.
“Have fun tonight?” he asked, though the tinge of smugness in his tone told me he already knew the answer.
“I had a wonderful time, Nathaniel, thank you.”
“Yeah?” He bit his lip, like he was actually nervous for my response.
“Yeah,” I confirmed, looking up into his darker-than-dark brown eyes. Okay, so it wasn’t quite the magical evening I might’ve had if I’d gone with Liam on my arm, but I’d actually managed to enjoy myself quite a bit. “I really did. You’re right—I should’ve come out with you more often.”
“Damn straight.” He returned my look with an intense one of his own, and I realized he was going to kiss me. And I so badly wanted to want it—to want him—that I closed my eyes and let him.
After only a couple of seconds, though, I felt a hand pulling my arm. “Come on, the limo’s here.”
“We’re going home?” I asked, confused.
Nate laughed. “Are you nuts? Afterparty! Corrinne Robertson’s parents have a beach house in Malibu. I swear, sometimes it’s like you go to a different school.”
No kidding. But I simply shrugged and followed him out of the hotel and into the limo.
22
THE LIMO BROUGHT WITH IT yet another bottle of champagne, and by the time we reached Corrinne’s beach house, I didn’t care that my shoes were growing pinchy…or that my date was. Clearly that kiss had given Nate some ideas, and the more bubbly I tossed back, the less I minded entertaining them.
I wished I could pretend we weren’t those cliché kids who spent the entire ride to the afterparty sticking our heads out of the sunroof and yelling things while we swilled champagne and silently dared everyone we passed not to wish they were us, but I’d be lying. Cliché or not, it was damn fun, and having the newly crowned Prom Kings in our car made it that much more awesome.
Also awesome? Corrinne’s parents’ ridiculous beach house, which was not only beautiful, but enormous, and in a very familiar area; it was located just down Broad Beach Road from Josh’s mansion, which would’ve made it a whole lot harder to forget about Liam if I weren’t so pleasantly trashed.
“I was just here a few weeks ago,” I confided to Nate as we wove our way through the other post-prom partiers into the house.
“At Corrinne’s house?”
For some reason, I found that utterly hilarious. “No, silly. Josh Chester’s.”
Nate’s eyebrows shot way up. “You were at Josh Chester’s house?” he asked as we walked inside.
“Yep,” I confirmed, taking a look around the enormous entryway. “It was even bigger than this, and it was craaaazy.” I leaned in and whispered, “That’s where Liam and I broke up, basically.”
“I don’t think you’re being as quiet as you think,” Nate informed me as he pulled me out of the entrance and down a hall.
“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to dig my heels into the carpet. Oops—there was no carpet. Was that a scratch on the hardwood? “Hold on. My shoes are pinchy.”
He sighed and waited for me to slip off my shoes, and I dangled them from my fingers as I followed him down the hall.
“Where are we going?” I asked again.
He didn’t answer, but judging by the way he was ducking his head behind each door as we passed, I wasn’t sure he knew either. Finally, he found a small, empty bedroom and pulled me inside.
“Ohhh,” I observed, pointing at the bed. “I see what’s going on here.”
“Holy jungle juice, you’re drunk,” he muttered, pulling his bowtie loose and tossing his tux jacket onto the dresser. “I just wanted you to be able to talk quietly.”
“I don’t want to talk,” I informed him, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth even as I said the words. “Come on, let’s go party.”
“Maybe we should chill out a little first,” said Nate, leading me toward the bed. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
“That’s true,” I said, nodding my head. I dropped my shoes on the floor and crawled onto the bed. Mmm, it was soft. Good job, Corrinne’s parents.
Nate was just standing there, watching me, so I patted the mattress next to me and he slowly walked over and sat down.
He was completely quiet for what felt like an hour, so finally I said, “You know, you’re being kinda weird.”
“I’m not sure what to do now,” he admitted.
I couldn’t help giggling at that. “Nathaniel Donovan, are you a virgin?”
“What? No! But I wasn’t sure—wait, are you?”
I smiled widely and tapped him on the nose. “I’m not telling!”
“That’s mature, Duncan,” he said, but the teasing had gone out of his voice and it was really more of a murmur and then he was kissing me.
It wasn’t bad, to be perfectly honest. He was a nice kisser, if a bit nervous. At least I thought it felt like nerves. Maybe he was just drunk too. I really had no idea.
I could handle kissing. Kissing wasn’t new. I’d been kissing since Freddie Carlton laid one on me in second grade. Granted, I hadn’t done a lot of this tongueswirling-around-mouth stuff with anyone but Liam, but it was probably time for that to change. After all, I was eighteen, about to graduate high school, and going off to college in New Y
ork City. I would probably kiss a zillion men who weren’t Liam in the next four years. A bajillion, maybe. So what was one Nate in the grand scheme of things?
I relaxed into it and lay back onto the pillows lining the headboard, pulling Nate on top of me by the ends of the bowtie that still hung untied around his neck. Apparently energized by the action, he kissed me even more deeply, bracing himself over me just long enough to get his bearings before one hand made its way down my body and edged up the hem of my dress.
The tiniest butterfly—and not the good kind—started to flit around in my stomach as I felt his hand plant itself firmly on my thigh. I didn’t know why I’d gotten the ball rolling on the sex talk, since I didn’t actually want to sleep with Nate, but I had, and now it was probably going to happen. I forced myself to calm down and remember that sex was no big deal.
After all, I’d been about to have sex with Liam just a couple of weeks earlier, right? Well, at least I thought I had. That had seemed to be where it was going before Josh and Shannah had interrupted us, and I certainly didn’t recall wanting him to stop at any point.
I wanted to be horrified by the idea that I’d almost done that with someone I’d broken up with less than an hour later, but the truth was, I was madder that it hadn’t actually happened. So sue me, I’d wanted it—badly. Even thinking about it now was getting me considerably more in the mood, and I wrapped a leg around Nate’s waist to pull him closer, aching to recreate the feeling of Liam’s hard body pressed against mine.
God, he’d felt so good—confident but gentle, patient but always ready and able to take a cue to press on. Things just…clicked when I was with Liam, and it hit me then that I knew exactly what he meant when he said I relaxed him. He was comfortable and safe, despite there being nothing comfortable or safe about my feelings for him. I just knew he would never want to hurt me.
Which made it so much worse that he had, and so badly.
“Ally?”
Oh, Jesus. Had I seriously just spaced out thinking about my ex-boyfriend while making out with my prom date? Judging by the look on Nate’s face, yes, I had.
