FOR SOMEONE WHO DIDN’T DANCE, I sure was dancing a lot this year. This time it was the senior prom. Yes, THE Prom, and I was there (not Jessica, but I won’t rub it in) with Nate.
My curls were shiny and tamed with a humongous amount of hair product. I had pinned the sides up, and the rest hung midway down my back. The newly polished silver cross hung around my neck. I wore a long lime green dress that my mother had helped me pick out (I’d promised her that she’d get to help me pick out my prom dress, even though technically it was Nate’s prom, not mine), and regal looking white gloves that reached up to my elbows. I chose these for two reasons: one, to cover the angry red line on my forearm and two, to protect Nate. Even though he said he didn’t mind going back, I didn’t want to take any chances.
With one of his hands holding my gloved one and the other on the small of my back, he shuffled with me around the gym floor.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Casey,” he said, smiling. For once, I actually believed him.
“And you are simply dashing,” I said with a fake British accent. I was happier than happy.
Lucinda danced with Josh (a little match making on my part), and she gave me a sly thumbs up as they spun by. Tyson and Kelly nuzzled nose to nose.
“I’m really going to miss you, when you leave for Toronto, you know?” The thought of Nate leaving made me want to curl up in a fetal position. Why did I bring that up tonight, of all nights?
“Well, now that you mention it, I have a surprise for you.”
“What?”
“I didn’t want to say anything until I was absolutely sure.”
“Nate!” His eyes sparkled. He enjoyed teasing me.
“I transferred to Boston University. I’m not leaving.”
Eek! I let out a little squeal. “Really! You’re not going? But what about your scholarship?”
“Still got that. I guess my skills are wanted.”
Yay! “That’s great news.” I was so excited I couldn’t help jumping up and down a little bit. In a graceful and ladylike fashion, of course.
The song ended, and an up tempo one started. Some couples left the floor, others just started dancing again. I waited for a cue from Nate, as to what he wanted to do. He didn’t lead me off the floor. And he didn’t start dancing. What he did made me gasp and shiver.
He peeled off my elbow length gloves.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t need these.” He gently rubbed the scar on my arm with his thumb then held both of my hands in his, skin to skin. He lowered his head to kiss my face, tiny little butterfly kisses until he reached my mouth. Each kiss was a promise and a declaration. I could go back in time at any moment, and Nate would gladly go with me.
The End.