Paul’s friends began to kid him, which only made him more self-conscious and more awkward.
“Let’s get something to eat,” I suggested after an uncomfortable ten minutes or so. Anything to get off the dance floor with him.
He practically leaped at the idea and headed for the refreshment tables.
“You’re a good dancer,” he told me. “I just don’t do it enough.” He handed me a plate. “If you want to dance with someone else, too, that’s all right,” he said.
I looked at him in confusion. “Who would I want to dance with but you? You’re taking me to the prom. The other boys have dates, too. What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t mind sharing when there’s plenty to share.”
I smirked and concentrated on choosing what to eat, but it wasn’t long before something unpleasant came to mind. We sat at one of the tables, and when I looked around, I saw two of Paul’s teammates looking our way and talking with wry smiles. I knew they were looking at me. A familiar alarm bell sounded in my heart. Were they all taking bets on whether Paul would score tonight in something besides a baseball game?
Ryder and Alison made their way to our table.
“You guys that hungry?” Ryder asked.
“You knew I would be,” I said.
I made it sound like something far more intimate than it was, but Alison didn’t show the slightest sign of suspicion. Nevertheless, Ryder explained to her how he found out from my mother that I had been so nervous all day that I hardly ate.
“I don’t get why you keep saying she’s nervous,” Paul said. “What’s to be nervous about? It’s not the ninth inning with the top of the opposite team’s batting order coming up.” His wide grin with food between his teeth made him look clownish.
“Let’s get something to eat and join them,” Alison told Ryder. “I didn’t eat that much today, either,” she added, as if that was something he should acknowledge as well.
He shrugged and asked if we wanted anything else, which put the idea in Paul’s mind. He rose to return to the refreshment tables with Ryder and Alison. I nibbled on my food and stared down at the plate. I felt like I had gotten into a rocket anticipating a wonderful liftoff that had fizzled, and I hadn’t been here a full hour yet. I was in such deep thought about it that I didn’t realize Shane Cisco had slipped into Paul’s chair.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, grinning.
I didn’t really know him. To me, he was just another junior who hovered around Ryder. I did know he was the school’s best wrestler in the 163-pound weight class. Ryder had mentioned it a few times. I had little or no interest in the sport and had never attended a bout. What I did know about Shane was that his father owned one of the biggest lumberyards in the region, and the Ciscos had a very large, modern ranch-style home with a pool and tennis courts. He had a sister in the sixth grade.
What I did think about him whenever I did look at him in school was that his dark-brown eyes were too close together and his chin was too square. His head seemed too small for his wide, well-built shoulders. He was a good two or three inches shorter than Ryder and walked with his elbows out, like someone who expected to be tossed into a fight at any moment.
“You coming to my party after this?” he asked.
“I guess,” I said. “We’re with Ryder and Alison.”
“My parents and sister are on a weekend trip to see my uncle, so we got the house to ourselves. Six bedrooms,” he added, grinning so hard that it tightened his lips into thin, pale red rubber bands.
I simply stared at him.
“Got the maid coming in the morning, so no one will know nothing.”
“Hey,” Ryder said, approaching with Alison right beside him. Paul was still at the refreshment tables. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing. Fern and I were just talking about the after-party at my house.” Shane stood up. “I was giving her the lay of the land. Or lay of the night,” he added. “Better get back to my date. You know how demanding Babs Sanders can be. I might need help.”
“A champion wrestler like you?” Alison said. “I’m sure you’ll come up with the right moves.” She glanced at me and winked.
“Yeah, well, I did develop a new hold,” he replied, and sauntered off.
Alison sat quickly. “What did he say to you?” she asked.
Ryder sat, and Paul started toward our table.
If I complained too much, I would ruin everyone else’s special night, I thought. “He just wanted me to know how great his party was going to be.”
“He was born bragging,” Ryder said. “He’s the one member of the team Coach Primack doesn’t have to work on developing the necessary self-confidence.”
Paul sat with another full plate of food. Alison moaned jealously about how he could eat so much without gaining weight.
“Yeah, it drives my mother nuts,” he said. “She says she just looks at food and gains five pounds.”
Just as it was in the school cafeteria, Ryder and Alison’s table became the center of attention. Couples drifted over to comment positively about the band, the food, and the decorations. Alison was once again involved with her classmates, and Paul got into a discussion with a couple of his teammates about the upcoming big baseball game. I must have looked very bored and alone. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my right hand. I looked up at Ryder.
“Let’s have a dance,” he said.
I looked at Alison. She narrowed her eyes and looked surprised. Paul didn’t even notice I had gotten up.
Ryder and I walked onto the dance floor.
“Don’t worry. He’ll get into it as the night unfolds,” Ryder told me.
“Not unless I get a catcher’s mitt,” I shouted over the music, the volume of which had been boosted.
Ryder laughed and we started to dance.
I realized we had never danced together. Except for when we were both very little, we had never even listened to music together. In my mind’s eye, I kept envisioning how well he danced with Alison. Timidly, I began to improve my moves and get more into the rhythm. I saw how pleased and amused he was with my growing enthusiasm. It challenged him to do more than just go through the motions. Neither of us realized what was happening around us, but other couples had paused to watch us.
With my eyes down, I was moving in a familiar fantasy. There was no one else in the world but Ryder and me. I was so filled with happiness and pleasure that I couldn’t prevent myself from being uninhibited. It wasn’t until some of the boys around us began calling to Ryder and warning him he was taking on more than he could handle that I felt myself come back down to earth.
Shocked and embarrassed, I looked at Alison. She was smiling, but it was a different sort of smile, one filled with suspicion. Paul was simply sitting back and watching with his arms folded, looking like he had no idea why there was so much excitement and reaction to what Ryder and I were doing.
I glanced at Ryder. He nodded, signaling we should return to our table.
“Now, that was a workout I didn’t expect,” Ryder told Alison.
“You both looked amazing out there,” Paul said.
“Yes,” Alison followed. “Have you two been practicing together or something?” she asked, that little note of jealousy ringing loudly enough for me to hear, if no one else had.
“Actually . . .” Ryder looked at me. “We’ve never danced together.”
“I don’t even know what music he likes,” I told Alison.
“Do I like music?” he asked her.
She laughed. “Let’s get our pictures taken before we forget,” she suggested.
“Right. Paul?”
“Huh? Sure,” he said, rising.
The four of us went over to the backdrop. Ryder and Alison went first. They looked so perfect together that the photographer had no suggestions for how they should stand. Just before he took the picture, however, I saw Ryder’s eyes drift toward me. The photographer saw that, too, and
suggested they take another. This time, he emphasized where their attention should be directed.
When Paul and I went to the backdrop, the photographer had to move Paul’s body physically to get him to fit well into the photograph. I was afraid I would look terribly unhappy, so I concentrated my thoughts on Ryder’s expression while we were dancing. It helped me smile, and the photographer was satisfied.
“I think that’s harder than dancing,” Paul said, which brought some laughter to the three of us.
Ryder insisted we all return to the dance floor, however. The music was getting good. “Just watch her and do what she does,” he advised Paul.
“I’ll try,” Paul said. “I like what she does.”
I decided it would be wise for me to concentrate on him and not Ryder now. I urged him to be more relaxed and not worry about what others might think. “Don’t look at anyone else. Concentrate the way you would on the other team’s batter,” I added. He liked that, and I did think he began to do better.
The dance I had done with Ryder had given me a new shot of energy and passion for dancing. Like most of the girls I knew, when I danced now, I was in my own world. I could have been all alone out here on the dance floor. When we took breaks to get something to drink, some of the girls and even their dates complimented me.
Shane Cisco made a point of coming over to me to tell me that I was a very sexy dancer. “You look like you’re having one orgasm after another out there,” he whispered, then laughed and retreated before I could respond.
Ryder was paying all his attention to Alison now. I think he had sensed that same note of jealousy I had. I kept us away from them and got Paul back on the dance floor. At one point, there were only a half dozen couples dancing, us being one of them. I would never admit it, of course, but I did spend hours and hours dancing in my room. Music laid the pathway to fantasy, and growing up so isolated in Wyndemere, I depended perhaps more than most on the power of my imagination.
The music was interrupted, mercifully for Paul, who at times looked like he was in real pain. Grace Richards wanted to thank the members of her committee, the various teacher chaperones, and the rest of us for helping to make the prom a big success. I had no idea whether it was, never having been to one, but I didn’t hear anyone challenging her review.
When the music began again, I agreed with Paul to take a break and get another cool drink. The chaperones had kept a very close eye on what everyone was drinking, so no one apparently tried anything, but then again, many were anticipating the after-party at Shane Cisco’s house.
“You’re having fun now with your date, right?” Alison asked me when she and Ryder joined us.
“My mother calls me a dancing fool,” I said. “I could be doing that no matter whom I was with.”
“Well, she was an entertainer. Fern inherited her rhythm,” Ryder said.
“Maybe I did,” I said, thinking about it. She had never told me much about the dances she had gone to when she was my age in England. Surely she had gone to some.
“Well, whatever, you put the devil in Ryder tonight. He’s never danced as much or as well,” Alison said, eyeing him.
“I heard that,” Ryder said, seizing her around the waist.
Alison laughed. He kissed her, and that flush of self-assurance she habitually possessed returned.
“The photographer is putting out the pictures,” she declared. “Come on, Fern.”
She took my hand, and we headed for the display table. I was afraid the photographer would have printed out the wrong one for her and Ryder, but he hadn’t. Theirs looked perfect, and I told her so.
“Yes, we do. You look all right,” she said, nodding at mine.
We took ours, showed them to the boys, and then put them with our things at our table, just as the music stopped again and Grace Richards stepped onto the band platform. The drummer beat out a lead-in, and everyone turned to watch, the chatter dying down.
“Now what?” Paul moaned. “More speeches?”
“It’s time to announce this year’s prom queen and king,” Grace said. She conferred with the lead singer of Flight and then returned to the microphone. “First, the prom queen, the girl who showed the most poise, looked like she was having the best time, and was attractive enough in her gown to represent our school tonight.”
There was another drumroll.
“And the prom queen is . . . Fern Corey.”
I heard my name, but it didn’t seem to register. I thought perhaps I had imagined it. I didn’t move or react. There was applause, and then Alison reached over and literally shook me.
“It’s you,” she said, as surprised as I was.
“What?”
“You have to go up there, Fern. You’re to be crowned prom queen,” Ryder said.
I stood up, but I felt more like I was floating, being scooped along by a heavy wind. I didn’t look at anyone on either side. Comments from the lips of surely jealous other girls followed me to the stage. Could I be eligible? I wondered. I wasn’t a senior, and this was the senior prom. Maybe the band didn’t know that. Someone would shout it out, and I would be terribly embarrassed, I thought, but Grace Richards was smiling and holding the crown, which was some sort of metal designed with gold leaves. As soon as I was close enough to her, she placed it on my head. There was applause, reluctant or otherwise.
“You can say something if you want,” Grace told me.
I looked out at the crowd, all standing at their tables or on the dance floor.
“Thank you. I’m totally shocked,” I said. That brought laughter and a few catcalls from some boys who said I was like the Energizer Bunny.
Grace indicated I should step back, which I did. I turned to smile at the band members, who were smiling at me and offering congratulations.
“And now the choice for this year’s prom king,” Grace declared. “He is someone who also has great poise and enthusiasm and is handsomely dressed. We all agree with the band. Our prom king is Ryder Davenport.”
There was a great cheer. As Ryder stood and walked toward the stage, I looked at Alison. She seemed to dwindle in her seat. The empty smile on her face was frozen. I felt like rushing off the stage and placing my crown on her head. Ryder, however, didn’t look a bit concerned. When Grace placed his crown on his head, he turned quickly to the microphone.
He began by thanking the committee again, and then, after giving me a quick glance, he said, “I wear the crown for myself and my date, Alison Reuben, who always makes me feel like a king.”
The girls swooned, and the boys cheered. Alison’s face lit up again. Traditionally, however, we had to dance together as the king and queen of the prom. We started it off, a slow dance.
“And you were worried how you would look and if you would enjoy yourself,” Ryder said. “Your mother is going to be very proud of you, I’m sure. And Bea will have a minor heart attack.”
I laughed, and then he nodded at Paul, turning me toward him, and went to get Alison so everyone could join and finish the dance. The teacher chaperones all congratulated me. Paul finally looked like he was having a good time now. Every chance he got, he bragged to his teammates that he had the hottest girl at the prom.
“Everything’s winding down,” Alison told me. “Come on. Let’s go to the girls’ room and repair our makeup before we go to the after-party.”
I followed her in. Other girls were there gossiping. Some grew very quiet when we entered, so it wasn’t difficult to imagine they had been talking about either her or me. Probably me, I thought.
“Looks like Wyndemere won the night,” Tara Morton told me, loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“I don’t represent Wyndemere,” I said. “But when I get home, I’ll be sure to tell the house how pleased you are.”
Some laughed.
Alison nudged me to walk away. “Ignore her,” she told me. “She was born miserable.”
Other girls gathered around us, paying more attention to me and far friendlier than eve
r. Alison was quiet about it. I was sure she was upset about my getting the crown and not her, especially since Ryder had been chosen to be prom king, but I didn’t know what to say to her except how surprised I was.
She nodded and stepped back when more of her friends began to congratulate me. I joyfully soaked in their questions about my dress and how I had learned to dance so well. Some kidded me about Paul, warning me to be careful of his curveball.
What a roller coaster I’d been on, I thought, as we left the girls’ room to meet the boys and head for the after-party. I just hoped that getting off would be as graceful as getting on had been.
Paul looked like Ryder had given him a pep talk. He stepped forward quickly to take my hand. “I thought this was going to be harder than pitching nine innings,” he said as we started out, “but you sure made it easier for me. Now I hope I can make the rest of the night easy for you.”
I smiled for him and thought maybe he wasn’t very sophisticated, nowhere nearly as sophisticated as Ryder, but he was a nice enough boy, and for now, his simplicity seemed refreshing. Hopefully, he would distract me enough with his silly joking for the rest of the night to keep me from drooling over the vision of Ryder and me dancing closely for those special moments.
A few weeks ago, I was that impure girl stained by her mother’s sin and destined to carry the word illegitimate to my grave. But for now, I really was the princess of Wyndemere, although I knew it wouldn’t be for long and might make my life even more difficult in days to come, especially when Bea Davenport heard about it.
Ryder mentioned that again.
“Yes,” Alison said, almost joyfully. “I’d avoid her if I were you.”
Maybe she really meant I should avoid Ryder, I thought.
7
ALISON AND RYDER cuddled in the rear of Paul’s car. Before we were thirty seconds away from the school, they were kissing and whispering and giggling. Paul, oblivious to it all, was babbling about the prom, relating some of what he thought were the dumb things his baseball buddies had to say about his dancing with me.
“I’m glad I’m in shape,” he told me. “Because if I have to dance any more tonight, I’m going to have to dig out that second wind.”
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