The Reluctant Prom Date (The Reluctant Series Book 4)

by Melanie Brown

  Phil laughed nervously, “Actually, I think your exact words were that you never wanted to see me again.” He shifted from one foot to the other.

  Gwen said, “Well Diane, how did you let this one get away?” Gwen giggled like a school girl as her eyes were glued to Phil.

  I started to say something, when Phil said, “Well, some things are just best left unsaid.”

  I just laughed and said, “Yeah, that’s true.” Diane had never told me why she’d broken up with this total babe.

  Phil turned his gaze back toward me and he smiled as he said, “You changed your hair back to blonde.”

  With a puzzled look on her face, Gwen started to speak. I knew she was going to comment that Diane has always been blonde, not knowing about the little switcheroo on her graduation day we’d done to get Phil to leave her alone. Interrupting, I asked, “So Phil. What brings you to town? And especially, what brings you to the theater?”

  Gwen was clearly annoyed that I’d interrupted her, but stayed silent as Phil answered.

  Phil laughed, “Well, it’s been a bit rough to find the job I was hoping for after graduation. I’m still looking, but I took a job as a regional sales rep for a confections distributor. This is part of my region, so you’ll be seeing me around once a month or so. It’s not just this theater I hope to sell to.”

  “That’s cool,” I smiled, losing myself in Phil’s eyes. Before I could stop myself, I said, “Maybe we can go out for lunch some time.”

  Phil arched an eyebrow, “Really? I thought you never wanted to see me again.” He smiled. If he didn’t stop smiling, I was going to be reduced to a puddle.

  “You can’t hold a grudge forever.” I smiled back. Actually, that wasn’t true for Diane. Once a guy went into the “ex” slot, he was out of her life forever.

  Phil glanced at his watch and said, “Well, I’ll be heading out in the morning and I’m supposed to meet up with an associate for lunch here in about forty-five minutes. How about dinner? Not a date, just a couple of friends getting together to talk about old times.”

  Well, crap, I thought. I was just trying to be nice. I didn’t really think he’d ask me out. How can I talk about old times? Half of me was screaming ‘tell him no!’ while the other half was swooning, gasping for breath and barely able to say ‘but he’s sooooo gorgeous!’

  “Well, I …” I started to say.

  “On the way in, I saw what looked like a nice place called Gladstone’s” said Phil. “How does that sound?”

  “Sounds um… sounds great!” I found myself saying as I stared deeply into his eyes.

  “Super!” Phil fumbled around in a shirt pocket for a moment before pulling out one of his business cards. “Could you write down your address and phone number on this? I’ll pick you up about seven-ish.”

  “I’ll be ready,” I said as I wrote down my address and real brief directions on how to get there.

  “Great. See you then. Well, I gotta run. See you tonight!” Phil gathered up his brochure case, turned and quickly left the theater.

  “You always do that to me, Diane” said Gwen with some irritation in her voice.

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Every time I meet some cute guy that I might want to go out with, you come swooping in from nowhere and steal him away.”

  Getting all defensive, I said, “It’s not my fault! It wasn’t like I meant to get a date tonight. Can I help it if I already knew him?” And kissed him…

  Gwen stared through the theater windows after the receding figure of Phil a moment, before turning back to me and changing the subject. “Did Chris get off to the cheerleader contest okay?”

  At first, I was taken aback and almost said, ‘Chris? Chris who?’ Instead, I quickly remembered I was supposed to be Diane, “Yeah, she did. She’s pretty excited about it.”

  Gwen looked at me strangely and said, “I still can’t believe you’re okay with your brother dressing up and acting like a girl. His luck is going to run out sometime and then he’s going to be in deep shit.”

  Gwen still feels responsible for me wanting to become a girl. She just won’t listen when I try to tell her there’s nothing for her to feel bad about. I looked at her said, “Honestly, Gwen. This is the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time. She’s now very well adjusted, she has friends and a social life instead of sitting around just playing computer games, which is what all she used to do.”

  Gwen just shrugged, “Right now, it might not be causing him a problem. But what about his future, Diane? Yeah, right now it’s all fun and games, getting to be a cheerleader and popular and all that shit. But what happens when school’s out? Is he going to get a sex change and make this permanent? I know he’s a late bloomer, but eventually he’s going to start looking less like you and more like a man. And what if he decides to become a woman? He hasn’t had a lifetime of being female to prepare for it. I just think he’s opening himself up for a world of shit.”

  I was taken aback by Gwen’s sudden outburst. At first, I was offended by her suggestion that I would have trouble becoming a successful, happy woman just because I only started being a girl last September. I’ve had more than one conversation like this with Diane. Not sure how to respond, I just said, “Well, you know she had that boob job. Sounds like to me she plans to make this permanent.”

  With a wave of a hand, Gwen dismissed my comment. “Pfft! A boob job is reversible. Tossing the family jewels isn’t. If he’s serious, is he seeking hormones yet? I didn’t think so. I really don’t think he intends to go from teen hottie to an adult woman.” She paused a moment, and leaned across the counter and said, “You know what I think?”

  I shook my head and said, “I can’t imagine, Gwen. What?”

  “I think he’s just hiding as a girl. No, listen. It’s no secret he loves guys. He’s always talking with the girls here about cute boys who come into the theater, he had a boyfriend for chrissakes! I think he’s afraid to admit he’s gay and is dressing up as a girl to get dates with boys.”

  Oh, God, I thought. Not this again. I’ve turned this over in my head so many times, I think I’ve worn that part of my brain smooth. I shook my head and said, “I don’t think so Gwen. Until she became a girl, she never showed any interest in guys. And besides, if she is gay, so what? She’s still my sister. I’d still love her. And these days, who cares if you’re gay?”

  Gwen slapped the palm of her hand down on the glass counter top and said, “Exactly! Why doesn’t he stop this crap with dressing as a girl and just admit he’s gay? He doesn’t have to have a sex change just to be with a guy. He can still have his boyfriends and not ruin his life.”

  “Gwen, it’s deeper than that,” I admonished. I know for a fact, she’s not dressing as a girl just to get guys. It’s not the boys. It’s not the clothes. It’s deeper and not something you can easily grasp or plug into a simple template like straight or gay. Chrissy would be a girl no matter what clothes she wore or who she likes. You’re being too simplistic.”

  Gwen frowned, “The world might not be just black and white, but it’s not that gray either. I honestly think that if you put Chris in his old clothes, gave him a haircut and was given a choice between being with a pretty girl or a cute boy, he’d choose the boy. He just needs to be honest with himself.”

  I took a step back in an obvious gesture to show I was going to leave. Frowning, I said, “You don’t get it Gwen. You’re looking for simple answers to a complex question. You just can’t pigeon hole everyone.” I glanced at my watch and was surprised at the time. Sincerely, I said, “I need to get going. We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

  As I left the theater, I fought back tears as the demons of self-doubt filled my thoughts once again. I pounded myself again about how my being a girl wasn’t about sex or even something as shallow as getting to wear dresses and make-up. It was about who I was inside.

  * * *

  I almost gouged myself in the eye with the mascara brush when I jumped from the
phone ringing. I locked up for a moment trying to decide to slide the brush back into the mascara bottle and answer the phone or wait for Dad to answer it or just ignore it. Ignoring the siren call of a ringing phone has become impossible for me lately, and I knew Dad was in the garage and probably couldn’t hear the phone.

  Scowling, I quickly recapped the mascara and dropped it nearly into the sink and hurried to the phone in my room. This was not a good time to be interrupted. As I picked up the phone, I glanced over the five dresses lying on the bed that I’d narrowed my selection down to. My frustration grew as I saw that I had less than an hour before Phil would be arriving to pick me up.

  “Hello?” I said into the handset, unsuccessfully disguising my irritation.

  “Hi Honey! How are you? Are you okay?” asked the voice from the receiver.

  A cold chill ran down my spine, “Joey! Hey… I… I’m good. You?” Guilt washed over me as I narrowed my dress choice down to three.

  “I’m fine,” said Joey. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem bothered about something. Is it okay for me to call you?”

  Forcing a laugh, “Of course it is, silly! I was just in the middle of something.” I stifled a growl at noticing where I must have touched one of my nails before they’d dried and way too late to do anything about it. “So, what’s going on?”

  Joey said, “Since you weren’t at school Friday, I haven’t talked to you since Thursday night. Just wanted to check how my favorite girl was doing.”

  “Like I said, I’m doing good. I’m both happy and annoyed right now. Diane called from the contest and they’ve moved into the finals which they’ll do tonight. I should be there, not her.” I knocked another dress to the floor and began agonizing over the final two choices.

  “I can understand that,” sympathized Joey. “But that’s great for the team though. Last time our school won the cheerleader contest was when your sis… um… nevermind.”

  “See? That should be me bringing the squad to victory.” I glanced at the clock and back at the two dresses lying on the bed. I haven’t even finished my make-up!

  “I agree honey,” said Joey. “Say, is it okay if I came over tonight? I could bring a pizza and my Playstation and we can play my new Guitar Hero.”

  My stomach knotted as another wave of guilt washed over me. I can’t tell him I have a date with an older man. Or any man, really. I could feel myself starting to tear up as I said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Joey. I mean, if someone saw you, how would we explain your visit? No, I think we just need to stay apart until Sunday night when Diane gets back.”

  Not trying to hide his disappointment, Joey said, “I guess you’re right. I just miss you, Chrissy. I feel like the luckiest guy at school for getting you for my girlfriend.”

  Joey’s words were making me feel like a total schlemiel. I picked up the short black, off-the-shoulder dress that I had wanted to wear all along. Looking at the clock again I said, “That’s very sweet of you, Joey! I feel like one lucky girl now that you’re taking me to the prom!” I held the dress in front of me as I posed back and forth in front of the floor length mirror.

  Joey laughed and said, “You know, it’s funny. Now that word is getting out that I’m taking you to the prom, girls are coming up to me asking why I didn’t ask them to the prom. Where were these girls before?”

  I stopped looking at the dress and said, a little coldly, “What? Are you regretting asking me out now? Was there one of these other girls you’d prefer to take to the prom? Did you think I’d be an easy pick since Jeff broke up with me? There’re at least four guys hoping I’ll change my mind over the weekend.”

  Panic tingeing his voice, “No! No, of course not honey! I only want to take you. You’re my first and only choice to take to the prom!”

  “I sure hope so!” I glanced at the clock once again. “Look Joey, I need to let you go. We’ll chat tomorrow, okay?” I’m never going to get ready for my date with Phil at this rate.

  Sounding disappointed, Joey said, “Sure, honey. I’ll call you tomorrow. Have a great evening.”

  “Thanks, you too.” I said as I hung up the phone. I laid the dress back down on the bed and started to rush back to the bathroom to finish my make-up when I had sudden thought. Do I have shoes to go with the dress?

  * * *

  The door bell rang about 35 minutes after seven o’clock. I rushed to the door and opened it, my whole body tingling with excitement.

  “Hiya!” said Phil, standing there in jeans and a polo shirt. “Sorry I’m a tad late. I was watching the game and thought it would be over sooner. Hey, you look nice!”

  Feeling over-dressed in my little black dress and pumps, “Thank you!” I glanced at the mostly useless women’s watch on my wrist with the tiny oval face and no numbers. “And no worries. I just now noticed the time myself.”

  Phil looked at his own watch, “We probably should head on over there. I called ahead for reservations and we don’t want them to give our table away.” He grinned nervously.

  “Sure. Let me get my purse.” I turned to retrieve my purse that was waiting on the couch. Okay, so Phil isn’t punctual. Still, he’s absolutely, totally gorgeous. And yes, Joey’s cute too. But he’s just a boy.

  Riding in relative silence in Phil’s rental car from my house to Gladstone’s, reminded me of that evening, not all that long ago, that Jeff took me there on our big date. I smiled at the memory and then looked over at Phil.

  Phil was a bit better looking than Jeff and a way better kisser. I wondered what other things he was better at and sighed, knowing I’d never be able to find out. My thrill meter was way off the scale by going out on a date with an older, more experienced man. As much as I had liked Jeff and like Joey, both seemed to be mere kids by comparison to Phil.

  After the waiter had given us our menus and walked away, Phil said, “So Diane, what all have you been up to since graduation?”

  I smiled and said, “Oh, just goofing off for now, waiting for my resumes to start bearing fruit.”

  Without looking away from his menu, Phil said, “I’m actually surprised you’re still living at home. From the way you talked about your family and home life, I thought for sure you’d have gotten an apartment.”

  What the crap has Diane been saying about us? I said honestly, “Well, that would require a job. I don’t have one yet. And, things aren’t bad at home.”

  Looking up from his menu, Phil said with a grin, “Oh really? Have things improved that much? From what you told me about your little brother alone would keep me from living there. And your dad… fwew… I’m glad he didn’t answer the door, I’d be tempted to kick his butt for the way he treats you and your mother. She doesn’t have to take that shit you know. Maybe you should help her call the authorities on him. Or at least encourage her to get a divorce.”

  I just sat there dumbfounded for a few moments, my jaw hanging slack. What the fuck? Just what the hell has Diane been telling this guy? Mom and Dad might as well change their names to June and Ward Cleaver. I’m guessing Diane resented Dad telling her to stop dating some of her loser boyfriends.

  I looked away and cleared my throat before trying to speak. “Um, well, Mom and Dad have reconciled their differences and everything is okay now.”

  Phil shook his head. “I can’t believe it. If just half of what you told me is true, your dad should be in jail. If she won’t do anything about it, maybe you should step in to protect her.”

  Forcing a smile I said, “Honest, everything is fine now.” I looked down at the menu and said, “You know, this place has a killer chef salad.”

  “What about your brother?” Phil asked, looking back at his menu. “Is he still in jail?”

  “No,” I said, peeking over the top of my menu. “He never was in jail.”

  Phil shrugged and said, “Jail… juvi… what’s the difference, eh?”

  Before I could answer, the waiter arrived to take out order. I’m definitely going to have to have a lo
ng talk with Diane when she gets home.

  * * *

  The meal was mostly uneventful. Phil managed small talk about mutual friends between him and Diane. I knew enough about most of Diane’s friends to bluff my way through it. I didn’t really hear most of what he said as I was fuming inside about the awful things Diane said about her own family.

  As Phil had to catch an early flight out of town, all we really had time for was dinner. We did sit in Gladstone’s longer than was necessary, with Phil doing most of the talking. We finally decided to leave and Phil drove me home.

  “Let me walk you to your door,” said Phil as he climbed quickly out of the car. I just sat there as he came around the car and opened my door for me. He extended his hand and helped me step out.

  He took my hand and walked with me to the porch. “I had a great time, Diane. Next time I’m in town, maybe we can go dancing or something as well. That is, if you still want to see me again.” A sheepish smile crossed his gorgeous face.

  I smiled and said, “Of course!” He smiled back and started to lower his face towards mine. I closed my eyes in anticipation and a moment later his lips pressed against mine. I put my arms around his neck and drew him closer to me as his arms wound around my waist.

  I was in heaven! Phil’s kisses are like no other. I could stand there all night with his tongue entwined with mine. I tried to hold back, but found myself kissing him hungrily as if I’d been waiting a life-time for moment like this.

  All too soon, Phil pulled away with a big grin. “Does that kiss mean you finally forgive me?”

  Still feeling the glow of his kiss, I said, “The past is past. No point dwelling on it.”

  Smiling, Phil said, “Super. I always knew you were a special girl, Diane. I mean, not many girls would ever forgive their boyfriends after finding them naked in bed with two other men.”

  I just stood there for a moment, staring at Phil with a stupid expression on my face. Did he just say what I thought he said? I suddenly felt a wave of revulsion. The irony of the emotion wasn’t lost on me if the world was strictly binary; black-and-white, on-and-off, etc. Chromosomes aside, in my mind, there wasn’t a shred of maleness left in me.