XanimeforeverX: thanks! and i'm glad you see you and your friends in the story, because it's based off of me and my friend :)

Every time he gets up during the course of the night, whether it’s for seconds on soda and food, or if he’s just going to talk with some friends, he asks if she needs anything. Is she okay? Does she need another drink? Because he’s going by the soda, it’s no big deal. After a couple of repeated offers, she decides to go walk around with him.

They stand toward the back of the dance floor, and he wanders over to talk to his friend. She sees another one of her friends and takes a few steps over to talk with him, so they’re both momentarily occupied. She glances over at him for a second, and when she does, she sees his finger twirling around for a few seconds, looking for someone, then he makes eye contact with her, and he points, a big grin plastered across his face. She grins back, and his friend stares at her, then says, “Wow” with enough enunciation that she’s able to read his lips even though she can’t hear him.

She feels herself brimming with pride; her back straightens just a little bit more, and she tilts her chin up so she’s not always taking second looks down at the floor. Another one of her classmates thinks she looks good—maybe even great, but she doesn’t want to get cocky—and she really likes it. She’s never really had this kind of attention drawn to her before, but she’s come to find that it’s addicting.

A song by Lifehouse comes on, and her stomach tenses. Slow song, is he going to dance with her? They’re not dating, and all the other couples out there are “madly in love,” apparently. She watches out of the corner of her eye as he tells one of his friends that he hates this song, that it’s sappy and overplayed. She can’t help but feel a little upset—she was hoping for at least one slow dance. That’s not too much to ask. He turns to her.

“Wanna go out there?” He grins, catching her off guard.

She wants that, badly, but she can’t look too desperate or overeager. Control, control, control. “Sure.”

“Let’s go.” He stands and waits for her to walk in front of him, then follows. They weave through the crowd, coming close to tripping themselves up on stray chairs and shoes, until they find his friend. They station themselves next to him and his date and assume the traditional slow-dance positions: her hips tingle as they’re graced by the presence of his hands; she locks her fingers behind his neck. Their feet move slowly, in delicate little circles. He’s chewing spearmint gum that she can smell each time he exhales. She’s not really sure where to look, but as far as she can tell, neither is he: he’s looking over her shoulder while she pretends to admire the details in his vest. After a minute, they make eye contact and he smiles.

“You having fun?”

She smiles back. “I am, are you?”

“Yeah!”

The end of Lifehouse blends into the beginning of that new song by the Black-Eyed Peas. He rolls his eyes and mutters that he hates this song—he really means it this time. They stop dancing and lean against the oversized window panes. That’s fine with her, though.

She hates this song, too.

There are ten minutes left, and they decide to leave. They make their way back to their table, he grabs the jacket he thought he’d forget, she slides her pocketbook out from under the table, and they’re off.

There’s still a slight drizzle going on outside, and he looks back at her. “Want me to go get the truck and pull it up here?”

“I don’t care, it’s up to you.”

He points at her. “I’ll be back.”

His friend is standing off to the side with his date as well, trying to find their limo, and he smiles at her. “You look…so good tonight. That’s all I have to say.”

She smiles, glad that it’s dark so he can’t see her blushing. “Thanks.”

He pulls up to the overhang, and she climbs into the truck, being careful not to close the door on her dress. Her cousin did that to her dress during a wedding, and she’s always made sure that the whole thing is in the car ever since.

As they drive out, he decides to follow a car of people, unsure of which way to turn himself.

“Let’s hope they know where they’re going,” he says, the windshield wipers squeaking against the glass.

They do, and soon enough, they’re driving on 146. He turns to her and, smiling, tells her, “You should’ve heard how many people came up to me, saying how good you looked tonight!”

She blushes and grins. “Thanks.”

“You really did, though.”

“So did you.”

“Hey, thanks.”

They keep talking until they get to her house, and on the way, she sneaks ten dollars out of her pocketbook and sticks it in his cup holder, hoping he won’t notice. When they get to her house, they decide to take one more picture together. She really likes this one; it’s a close-up of just their faces, and they both look genuinely happy. They’re not wearing those smiles that people wear when they’re getting their pictures taken; these are legitimate.

He’s about to get out of the truck when he notices the money poking up next to his water bottle. He snatches it out of the cup holder and holds it up to her, eyes narrowed accusingly. She grins.

“Take it,” he tells her.

“I want you to have it.”

“Nope, it’s yours. If I find it in here, I’m gonna be pretty pissed off.” He grins and she takes it back. “It was pretty sneaky, though, I’ll admit that.”

“Why, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They walk up the driveway together, and she turns back to him before she goes into the door.

“Thanks for everything.”

“Any time.” He grins and hugs her, and she can feel butterflies welling up inside of her again. It never gets old. “I had a really great time.”

“Me, too.”

“So, I’ll see ya on Monday?”

“Yup. See ya!”

“Bye!”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“I was just wondering…you know when I took off my tie?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I put it in my lap, and I think it fell out when I got out of the truck.” She can finish his sentence before he does, but she doesn’t interrupt him. “I think it might be outside your house…could you check, if that’s okay?”

She smiles to herself as she realizes once again how great of a prom date she had. “Yeah, I will, hold on a sec.”

“Cool.”

She hacks up her dress again and walks outside. The pavement is cold and slimy against her bare feet; there was no way she would put those heels back on for a while. She scampers down the driveway, phone pressed up against her ear. She can hear him breathing lightly on the other line.

There’s a puddle near the mailbox, which is where he parked. If she squints, she can see a black lump in the middle, but it doesn’t resemble anything remotely similar to a tie. She crouches down on the sidewalk in the misting rain and sticks her hand into the water. Her fingers wrap around some form of cloth, and she yanks it to the surface. Sure enough, it’s his tie.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Okay, cool. D’you think I could come by tomorrow and pick it up?” Someone in the background says something incomprehensible to her, and he abruptly changes the plan. “Or if you’ve got something going on, since it’s Mother’s Day and everything, you could just stick it in the mailbox.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she answers as she makes her way back to the house while wringing out the tie, the phone wedged between her shoulder and ear.

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

“I had a great time tonight.”

“I did, too. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem. Thanks for getting my tie.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Well, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.”

“See ya.”

She snaps her phone shut, and she suddenly can’t wait for tomorrow, either.

She’s downstairs when he calls the next day at around 12:30. Her phone only has one bar of service, so she grabs it and jogs toward the sliding glass doors, then flips it open.

“Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

“I’m at…there…good?”

She mentally curses her phone as she reaches for the handle and jerks the heavy door open. “Hold on a sec.” She takes a step outside and resumes the conversation. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Sorry, I have like, no service here.”

He laughs. “That’s okay. I’m almost at the mall right now, I’ll be over in a few minutes, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Okay, see ya then.”

“Bye.”

When he comes to her door ten minutes later, he’s grinning, a red baseball cap tilted over his hair.

“Hey, long time no see.”

She grins, holding out his tie.

“Thanks.” He holds out his arms, offering another hug, and she undoubtedly accepts the offer. “I had a great time last night.”

“Me, too. Thanks again.”

“Any time.” He grins at her as he makes his way back out the door. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

A week later, their professional pictures are delivered to the school. They’re under his name, so he picks them up. They divide the prints among the two of them, and she’s got to admit, they look good. There’s one main thing she notices above anything else, though.

She didn’t blink.