Prom Impossible
“Do you have the heat on?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The smaller one walked forward and helped me to my feet. I didn’t have much fight left. I was cold and shivery and had blisters on my heels, and my heart felt raw and exposed.
Limping, I let him lead me to their cruiser. I could’ve run if I’d wanted to, and I’m pretty sure I could’ve had a chance if it weren’t for the dress and the heels.
On the way to the station, I vaguely remember blabbing on about teen crime and asking how many years do teen criminals spend in juvie. But they didn’t say much.
They didn’t drive me to the station like I expected for taking off with the limo.
They brought me home.
Chapter 32
As I stood in front of my door, it wasn’t pitch black anymore, but it wasn’t exactly morning, just this strange kind of lightness. Hemingway lay by my feet, faithful until the end, not heading inside or scratching at the door until I was ready to go inside.
The cops remained at the curbside, waiting for me to make my entrance and tell my parents I was off to the clink again. At least they were giving me that. I laid a hand flat against the wood. On the other side, in my living room, was my family. Dad, Mom, and Carter. Uncle Rudie, Aunt Lulu, and probably Jules.
I cracked open the door and slipped inside. My family sat with their backs to me, huddled on the couch. Aunt Lulu rubbed Mom’s back in a gesture of caring I’d never seen. Jules was in a hushed conversation with my dad, and Carter strummed on his guitar. Tears rushed to my eyes because I was home with my family, imperfect and everything.
“Will you stop that darn playing,” Dad said.
Mom gasped and fanned herself. Aunt Lulu bristled like a dog shaking off rain water. Jules snorted. I couldn’t help but giggle while wiping away the tears.
Mom was the first one to see me. Her mouth dropped open and she squeezed Dad’s hand. Then, one by one, they all realized I was there. It only took about two seconds of shock and awkward silence for them to all move toward me at once.
“I’m sorry!” I put up my hands like a shield. “Please don’t—”
Any of my words were muffled by every person in my family trying to hug me at once. It was like I had scored the final touchdown in the homecoming game, and they couldn’t get enough of me. During that hugfest, someone stepped on my toes, I swear my dress ripped, Uncle Rudie passed gas, and I heard several swears and accompanying gasps.
A strange feeling bubbled up inside.
That feeling swelled, choking me on the inside, and I couldn’t hold back the rush of tears flooding my eyes. My breaths came out like a shotgun and I started hiccupping.
“She’s having a panic attack!” Mom yelled, and everyone slowly backed off.
I stood there a bawling, hiccupping mess. “I’m sorry for everything this past year. Mom, I’m sorry I always get so dramatic on you, going on and on about stuff. I’m sorry I always disappoint and fail because I know how much you care—I mean really care—and I can’t always live up to that. But…I’m me, and along with that come my nervous rambling and my impulsive decisions. I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be, and I’m sure it’s too late…”
Dad spoke. “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that you don’t disappoint us, and we don’t want you to be anyone but you.”
The tears kept coming. “But you sent me to the Program, and you made me go to that support group, which by the way didn’t work well, and you kept wanting me to be someone I’m not. I’ve tried, and I’ve had the worst year of my life. And senior year is supposed to be your best year, the pinnacle of your life, when you should get the guy of your dreams and have the perfect prom date and wear pink dresses.” I crumpled over.
Mom led me over to the couch, her hand softly stroking mine. “We did not send you to the Adventure Program because you disappointed us or because we didn’t love you, but after last spring, when the cops and the school got involved, we had to show them we were taking proactive steps. I thought you knew that.”
“Stop!” Jules cried.
Everyone looked up because Jules is always the model of social perfection. Aunt Lulu twisted her hands and bit her lip.
Jules stood, trembling. “I can’t take it any longer. You all have to know.” She rushed to me and dropped in front of me. “I’m so sorry. I never…never…never should have let it get this far. I should’ve spoken up last summer, but I was too scared.”
I wiped my tears. “You don’t have to do this.” But something inside me continued to swell as I saw the complete and utter brokenness on my cousin’s face.
“Yes, I do.” She took my hands in hers. “Cassidy, you are one of the bravest people I know. You know what you want and you go after it. You are you, and I love you for that. I pander to the trends and the popular crowd where you’re brave enough to swim against the tide.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
“It is. And it’s time everyone knows it too.” She faced our family. “It wasn’t just Cassidy last spring who set up all the smoke machines at prom.”
She grabbed me in a big hug and whispered, “I am so sorry.”
Then she faced the family again. “It was me, too.”
Something stabbed at my insides. This wasn’t completely her fault. I didn’t stick up for myself. I let someone else dictate my happiness.
“Jules?” Aunt Lulu trilled. “What are you trying to say?”
“Mom, I’m not perfect, and I can’t be perfect. It was my idea to prank the senior prom, and like a coward I let Cassidy take all the blame. And I’m so sorry.”
Everyone’s face turned a tiny bit paler, but the truth bombs weren’t done yet.
“No, it’s not Jules’s fault,” I said.
Everyone looked at Jules and then at me.
“Well, is it or is it not true?” Dad asked.
“Well, it’s true but I don’t blame Jules anymore. I should’ve stuck up for myself. I should’ve told everyone what happened instead of accepting all the blame. That’s my fault.”
I finally realized that if I was stuck wearing a poofy yellow dress with a ginormous flower on the side, then it was my fault. It wasn’t Aunt Lulu’s. I could’ve insisted on trying that perfect pale pink shimmery spaghetti strap dress. I see that now. If I got stuck at the Program or in a support group with Zeke, even though his crooked teeth and his smile and the way he cares about me—or used to—grew on me every day, then it was my fault.
Mom clapped her hands, calling everyone to attention. “There is a matter we need to discuss. Everyone please take a seat.”
We did. I hung my head. This had to do with the Porsche. It had to. Except I didn’t think everyone—or the police—would be so forgiving about grand auto theft.
“We have to clear up a few misunderstandings. First, Cassidy, dear. Where have you been all night?”
“Well, after prom, I went to Aunt Lulu’s house and waited in the backyard in the swing…and then I fell asleep. Hemingway found me.” At the sound of his name he trotted over and lay at my feet.
“You didn’t think to call? We’ve been worried sick all night after Jules told us about your little melt down at prom. You’re not in trouble, but in the future, you need to let us know where you are. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Mom straightened her back and a no-nonsense attitude came over her. Inside, I was secretly cheering her on even if she was about to send me to the Adventure Program again.
“And now, what is this nonsense about senior year being the pinnacle of your life and the year you find the perfect guy and have the perfect prom?”
“Well…” I looked to Carter and Jules for support, but they just shrugged. “After that it’s all downhill, ya know?”
Aunt Lulu ruffled her body like she was a giant flamingo about to take flight. Then she snorted in a full-out piggy noise, so unlike Aunt Lulu that I almost giggled. “Cassidy, you’ve g
ot to understand—”
“I’ll take care of this, Lucille, if you don’t mind.” Mom looked back at me. Aunt Lulu sat back down a bit miffed, but listening. “High school is one of the hardest times of your life as you struggle with who you are and who you want to be. Never mind the added pressure of popularity, grades, and college to think about.” Then she looked and incorporated Carter and Jules. “Your whole life is in front of you, and what kind of date you get for prom doesn’t dictate how the rest of your life will go. Got it?”
We nodded. I think finally, we’d run out of words and apologies and truth telling.
“I’ve been working on this new song.” Carter reached for his guitar.
“No!” we all said.
Dad stood. “I think it’s time for tea and coffee and maybe some toast with jam and butter.”
I looked at everyone and soaked in the peacefulness. “I guess I’d better go.”
“Where on earth to?” Dad asked.
I nodded toward the outside. “The cops are waiting for me.” Because I was guilty again. I stole the limo and Uncle Rudie’s Porsche. Carter coughed and edged towards me. “I have one more thing I need to say. Uncle Rudie, it’s about your Porsche.”
“What about my Porsche?” A look of mild alarm spread across his face from the raised eyebrows to twitching nostrils.
“Well, I—”
“What she means to say is that she wishes she’d had the courage to ask you to take it to prom.” Carter rushed over and clapped his arm around me while dragging me toward the window.
Uncle Rudie let out a big roar like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
Carter whispered, “Long story but everything’s as it should be. The Porsche is back in the garage. Uncle Rudie knows nothing. And I paid off the limo driver. He was just happy to have his limo back in one piece.”
I blinked back tears. Carter had stood up for me and protected me, everything a twin brother should do. Even when I didn’t deserve it, he’d covered my butt.
I laughed along with Uncle Rudie. “I know. Stupid idea.” Then I turned back to Carter. “So the cops aren’t here to arrest me or bring me in for questioning?”
He moved the curtain and peered out. “What cops?”
I smashed my face to the window. The cop car was gone. They’d been looking for me because everyone was worried. That feeling squeezed inside me again. My family loved me, and no matter what I did that would never change. They really loved me.
Someone knocked on the door. With Dad in the kitchen, Uncle Rudie strode over and opened it. He can be kind of intimidating when he wants to be, and it was like six in the morning.
“Yes,” he boomed in a rather intimidating way.
“Is Cassidy home?”
Chapter 33
Usually I’m all up for company, but at that moment I looked like Cinderella accidentally drank too much punch at the ball, and then her pumpkin carriage crashed, and she walked home with one slipper that didn’t fit too well. My eyes had to be rimmed with red and probably bloodshot, and my hair, well, I hadn’t looked in a mirror and didn’t really want to. Plus, I was coming off an emotional tsunami of family bonding and self-realizations. Not the best time for company.
Jasper tried to step through the doorway, but Uncle Rudie puffed out his big belly. “State your purpose, young man.”
I peeked around Uncle Rudie’s shoulder.
“I’d like to talk with Cassidy, sir.”
“State the nature of the talk.” I couldn’t see my uncle’s face but I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his look. Jasper shifted and tried peeking around to find me. Uncle Rudie moved with him step for step. “I repeat, state the nature of the talk, young man.”
At the sight of a good-looking youth, Aunt Lulu swished forward and gently laid her hand on my uncle’s shoulder. “Maybe we should let Cassidy deal with this.”
With a harrumph, Uncle Rudie, stepped aside, but when Jasper took a step in, he held out his arm. “You can talk to her from here.”
Even though my uncle was being gruff and a bit like a troll, my heart swelled at the fact he was trying to protect me. I stepped forward and studied Jasper. A sheen of sweat lay on his face, like he was nervous about something.
With the support of my family behind me, I said, “Our partnership is officially over. You owe me nothing and I owe you nothing.” Jasper wanted to say more, probably sick to his stomach at the thought of the trouble we could be in come Monday. “We’ll deal with everything else at school.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” He stammered out a few words before he spit out what he came to say. “I know I gave you a hard time the past few months, and I’m sorry about that.” A look of wonder crossed over his face. “I’ve never had a girl stand up to me like that and, well, I just wanted to say sorry and I wish we could start over, because I’d ask you out on a real date.” His face flushed a deep red, then he nodded. “That’s all.” Then he walked away.
Uncle Rudie turned and muttered, “Boys.”
Aunt Lulu winked at me like a proud mama hen. Dad walked in with a tray of tea and buttered toast. We’d all just sat down and I’d wrapped my hands around the mug, when someone else knocked on the door.
“I’ll take care of this.” Uncle Rudie nodded to my dad, who was adding sugar to his tea, and then opened the door, puffing out his belly again. “State your purpose, young man.”
“Is Cassidy home?” Michael asked.
I needed a moment. I closed my eyes and breathed deep. I’d waited all year—ALL YEAR—for this guy to stop by, to talk to me, to treat me like a friend. I’d convinced myself I was in love and went to extreme measures just to get him to notice me—all of which failed.
“Yes,” Uncle Rudie stated.
Jules squeezed my hand. “Sweet revenge,” she whispered. I squeezed her hand back.
“Could I see her?” Michael asked, then quickly added. “I have something of hers, I believe.”
Uncle Rudie stepped aside. Michael searched all our faces until he found mine. His face lit up and he started babbling like some lame fountain in the heart of Italy, and I didn’t even know if there were fountains in Italy.
“Those were some pretty awesome sword skills you had back there, and I noticed this got left behind. I thought you might like it to remember the night by. Sorry I never got the chance to drive you home, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He bit his lip and glanced at Uncle Rudie before plunging forward. “Maybe we can hold a Lord of the Rings marathon movie night sometime this summer.”
I stared blankly, mouth open, speechless.
Jules nudged me. “Looks like he’s the one with stars in his eyes.”
“Um, yeah, maybe,” I finally said.
“Cool!” He smiled, his eyes twinkling a bit. “I’ll talk to you soon.” He handed the sword to Uncle Rudie then turned and walked away.
“Sword skills?” Mom asked, when we were all sitting again, sipping our now lukewarm tea and soggy toast.
I shrugged. “Don’t ask.”
There was another knock at the door.
Uncle Rudie huffed, because he hadn’t even had a chance to sit down. He opened the door and sighed. “State your purpose.”
Zeke eyed the sword still in Uncle Rudie’s hand.
“I know how to use it, too,” Uncle Rudie lied. “Now what do you want?”
“I wanted to dance with Cassidy at the prom, but with everything—I never got to.”
“Cassidy?” Uncle Rudie asked without saying the words.
I sucked in a breath, and all the twisty feelings I’d been feeling toward this boy surged forward. Oh my, God, I couldn’t see him looking like this. Like some lip gloss and mascara could help me now. I turned to Jules. “Help!”
Mom walked over and pulled me to my feet. “Remember what I said?”
I nodded. I remembered because at the time it seemed so contradictory to the truth. Basically, beauty
doesn’t come from perfect hair, makeup or the clothes we wear—even though it helps. And Mom had left me to figure out where true beauty does come from. Looking at my family, I finally knew. It came from loyalty and friendship and being there for one another and talking and listening and laughing. And it even came from all day shopping trips and poofy yellow dresses with ginormous flowers on the shoulder.
“It’s okay, Uncle Rudie. You can let him in,” I said, my voice a bit breathless as the twisty feeling turned into a small flutter.
Zeke stepped forward, a bit in awe of the circle of family surrounding me. He ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up even more, and I loved it.
I stepped forward. “I’d love to dance.”
He met me, arms open. “This is kind of awkward,” he whispered, after his arms were around me.
“I know. Just pretend they aren’t there.”
A second later, the first strains of Love Story strummed in the background. I heard a couple of sniffles and sighs from swooning women. My dad slurped his now cold tea while Jules and Aunt Lulu pulled the coffee table to the side. Every time I moved, the flower growing off my shoulder crinkled and brushed his face.
I broke away. “Hold on a second.” I took hold of the flower and yanked at it until it ripped off. “No offense, Aunt Lulu.”
“None taken. Carry on.”
Zeke chuckled and held me close again. This time I stepped even closer, enveloped in his warmth and let my cheek rest against his. There was so much I needed to talk to him about. Everything he’d tried to get me to share last summer and through all our support group sessions. He didn’t know I needed to stick up for myself more or that I needed a dose of self-confidence.
I whispered, “We have so much to talk about. You’re my friend and I barely know anything about you like whether you like peanut butter or jelly or your favorite movie or your favorite color or what toppings you like on your pizza or if you have a pet cat.”
He didn’t say anything, just smiled.
And I definitely fell into an all out swoon.
“Okay, you two,” Aunt Lulu stated. “Enough chatting and more dancing. You can talk all you want tomorrow, but you’re ruining the romance for the rest of us.”
He smiled, revealing his crooked teeth. He kissed my cheek, a light feathery touch that made me melt into his arms. “Didn’t you mention something at the dance about kissing me?” he whispered.