So I got the idea for this way back in November, and I'm so relieved to finally have this idea written out and off my mind. It's kind of a crappy beginning, but I'm pleased with how it ended up.
I know writing about the kids' prom is far from an original idea, but I decided to do something entirely from Hannah's perspective. Plus I'm kind of warming up to the Mike/Hannah ship despite still being a hardcore Mike/Jess fan.
In any case, I hope you enjoy it! I may be writing more one-shots in the future besides my main story, so stay tuned :)
April 25, 2013 – Prom
Hannah couldn't even begin to explain how long she had been waiting for this night.
Prom— a night filled with awkward dancing during which you accidentally step on your date's shoe; someone spiking the punch with alcohol which results in drunk group selfies posted on Facebook and Snapchat (which you sincerely regret the next morning); and dressing up in uncomfortable, sequin-covered dresses that scrape girls' arms, and guys squeezing into tight tuxes they rented for cheap that are about ready to snap at the seams.
And Hannah loved it.
Her entire senior year of high school had been building up to this one night. She didn't care about anything else. No biology test or calculus quiz would get in the way of her ultimate goal: to capture the ever-desired attention of Michael Benjamin Munroe, Jr.
It was a week before prom when Hannah began to scribble down a checklist for the upcoming big night. She used the back of an old English class worksheet, and started off the list with one bolded and underlined word: TATTOO.
She'd had the black butterfly on her right upper arm for about a month now. Even though it was still pretty chilly in April in their area she wore a short-sleeved or sleeveless shirt to show off the ink whenever she could.
She felt a puff of air on her ear, and turned around to see Sam reading over her shoulder.
"I think you have English class mistaken for 'Prom-planning class,' Han," her friend teased.
Hannah sent a glare in her direction before quickly returning her gaze to the paper. "Shush! You know how important prom is to me."
Sam's grassy green eyes glittered as she scanned over the roughly-written jumble of bullet points. "Hmm… tattoo— duh. Dress, hair and nails done, fancy new makeup… looks like you've got this all figured out."
Hannah arched an eyebrow and shifted her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "Hardly. I'm hyped but freaked out at the same time."
Sam laughed glumly. "Yeah, that's a good way of describing it."
The week flew by, to Hannah's simultaneous joy and dismay. On Tuesday she went straight from a tennis tournament to go dress shopping with her friends, and immediately after school on Thursday, they all went to the Washington household to get ready.
Hannah's excitement was almost indescribable. Her nerves felt like they were jumping under her skin, unable to sit still.
"I swear to god, if it rains, I will scream," Emily remarked as they bustled in through the grand front door. The Washingtons lived comfortably, with plenty of dollars earned from the kids' father's often successful movie directing endeavors. This comfortable lifestyle reflected in their house, which was only a tad bigger than their lodge in Canada. Several steps led up to a sophisticated brick façade adorned with various spring-themed decorations courtesy of their mother. Inside, the house was spacious, and each of the five residents practically had their own wing.
Hannah, the last one inside, glanced behind her as she stepped in. The sky was a misty, overcast gray and did seem to threaten rain.
"Ugh, Hannah, I will never not be jealous of your house," Jess said.
That's probably the only thing of mine you're jealous of, Hannah thought to herself as she took in Jessica's long beach blonde hair and slim, hourglass-shaped figure.
They scampered upstairs and down the long hallway to Hannah's room. All five of their dresses were hanging in her closet, and had been there since they bought them a couple days ago when they made the plans to go to Hannah and Beth's.
Beth was the only one who was not remotely interested in going to prom. It took much coaxing and pleading from Hannah to even get her sister to be in the room with them.
"Come on, Beth. Even Sam agreed to it, and she hates dressing up," Hannah had insisted as she followed her sister through the house.
"No. Not happening," Beth replied. She unwrapped a stick of gum and rolled it up, popping it in her mouth. "All I want to do is veg out in my room and get lost in the wonderful world of Panic! At The Disco and MCR."
Hannah groaned. "You are not gonna go all stereotypical emo girl on me. Please at least hang out with us, if you won't go to the event?"
Beth hesitated, her hand on the knob of her bedroom door. "Okay, well, first off, just because I like those bands doesn't mean I'm 'emo.' Secondly, fine. But I'm not gonna be happy about it."
Currently, her sister had herself buried in Hannah's huge stash of pillows on her bed. "Hellllp! I'm drowning…" she cried as she sunk into the suffocating softness.
The others laughed, and Hannah scowled. "Ha, ha. You gotta admit they're comfy, though."
"I will never admit it!" Beth shot back, raising a stubborn fist in the air.
Right away, the girls changed into their dresses. They were in a wide range of colors from red to black. Hannah had chosen a dark navy blue dress for herself. The cottony fabric was breathable but still hugged the curves of her body, as few of them as there were.
Jess declared herself the chief hairdresser, while Emily took care of everyone's nails. Makeup duties were split between the two.
"Hannah, this nail polish looks like it was painted on by a blind person!" Emily commented as she took Hannah's hands in hers and examined her fingernails.
"Wow, thanks, Em. Maybe I was blindfolded when I painted my nails, you never know," Hannah said hotly, annoyance pricking her like the spines of a cactus.
Emily shot her look, clearly not appreciating the sarcasm. She got to work scrubbing the old polish off her friend's nails, working the wet cotton ball like a madwoman. When it came time for her nails to be repainted, Hannah chose a shimmery blue that complimented her dress.
Her nails were still wet when the doorbell rang. "Who the hell dares interrupt us at this very important time?" Jess shrieked. Her fingers were buried in Ashley's curly red locks, which had bobby pins clinging to various pieces of hair like fleas to a stray dog's coat.
"Should I go see who it is?" Sam offered, standing up from where she'd been watching some stupid video on Beth's phone. Sam wasn't often one who guffawed with the manner of a three-year-old, but whatever it was Beth had been showing her made her do just that.
Hannah sighed as she spared her best friend a brief glance. Sam's hair wasn't even done yet, and was still swept up in the usual messy ponytail. "Yeah, sure, go ahead," Hannah said, watching her go as jealous thoughts plagued her mind. I would kill for a face as beautiful as hers, but she doesn't even give her looks half the credit they deserve.
A few minutes later, Sam returned with a defeated grimace gracing her features. "Um… guys?" she mumbled.
Beth looked up from the glow of her phone's screen, taking out an earbud to better hear her. Jess had finished Ashley's hair and was now working on her face makeup. Emily was spreading eyeshadow over her own eyelids, squinting in the mirror of Hannah's dresser.
"The guys are already here," Sam announced. "Mike wants to get a quick pre-prom picture."
"What? Now?" Jess groaned. "I call not it. My face isn't on yet."
As if you need makeup, Hannah thought scornfully.
Beth snorted, and jammed the earbud back in. "Haha, nope. I'm trying to act like I'm not part of this embarrassing debacle."
Ashley tried to shake her head, but then Jess reached up a hand to steady her face. Stiffly the redhead grunted, "No way. I can't be seen out there without this zit covered!"
Sam frowned, her gaze flashing between the remaining two girls. "C'mon, Hannah and Emily. I don't know why he wants a picture now, but it'll just be super quick."
"Yeah, right," Emily laughed. She leaned closer to the mirror, swiping one last layer of mascara on her lashes. "But he is my boyfriend, so I guess I should be a part of it."
Something resembling a small stone dropped in Hannah's stomach, and the sympathetic eye contact she received from Sam as they headed downstairs didn't really help her crushed feeling.
Outside, they found a sleek black limousine parked at the bottom of the Washingtons' damn-near-mile-long driveway. Chris and Matt were leaning against the car, arms crossed and matching contemplative frowns on their faces. All they needed were a pair of sunglasses to complete their tux-wearing "bad boy" personas.
Mike, meanwhile, was braving the trek up the hill toward the mansion. The tiny beads of sweat on his forehead glinted in the fading sunlight, and Hannah almost lost control of herself right then. She might've, if it weren't for Emily rushing into his arms.
"Hey, Em," he smiled. "Gorgeous as always, my dear."
"Babe," she greeted him with a sickeningly-sweet curtsy. "Why are you guys here so early?"
He shrugged. "The limo dude came to my house like an hour early. Chris and Matt were all ready to go, so we decided to come crash your little ladies' get-together."
Emily sent him a scathing fake glare. Even when her scowls weren't real, they were still plenty piercing. "Michael, this isn't just any old get-together. We were trying to get ready when you so rudely interrupted us."
"Sooo how about we get this silly picture over with?" Sam cut in to their flirting. Mike had one eyebrow quirked as he smirked down at his girlfriend, while Emily's voice had risen to a ridiculously high-pitched level with each word she spoke.
Sam kept glancing down at the limo, and Hannah couldn't help but pick up on her best friend's dismay. Sam could be a master at concealing her emotions, but today she was more transparent than glass. Her aura was clouded from the disappointment of Josh not being able to make it. No matter how many times Sam denied this, Hannah knew how badly she really wished he was here.
Josh was buried up to his nose in college work, so he'd been unable to come home from Seattle to be somebody's date— and, of course, everyone knew who he would've chosen to take to prom.
So, in place of Josh, Hannah was Sam's "date." They had decided to go as friends, as part of the group. The other pairings were Emily and Mike, of course, as well as Chris and Ashley, then Jess and Matt. The latter claimed to be going as friends, though the announcement seemed to be mostly one-sided. Any person with eyes could tell that Matt had a thing for Jess as well as for Emily.
"Right, right," Mike agreed, temporarily removing his arm from Emily's shoulders. He produced a camera from his pocket, then set up a tripod a few feet in front of them. "Okay, so this thing is on a timer. We have ten seconds to get in place before it takes the picture."
The four of them got into position, stiffly posing in front of the waiting lens. Hannah couldn't believe she was doing this when she was only half ready, but the other part of her knew fully well that she would leap off the Empire State Building if Mike told her to.
So she squeezed in next to Sam, who was in between her and Mike, while Emily was on the other side of her boyfriend. Mike slung both of his arms over the girls' shoulders, and his right hand landed on Hannah's shoulder. His fingers were not even an inch away from her tattoo. Her knees turned to jelly, and she struggled to stay upright.
"Is this thing gonna take it or not?" Sam demanded through gritted teeth.
"Any… second… now…" Mike assured her.
His fingers dug into Hannah's shoulder a little as he shifted his weight, and she lost it. She stumbled a bit, and her foot came down on Sam's toes, causing her friend to fall forward.
That was the moment the camera decided to finally take the damn picture. A dazzling flash blinded the group, accompanied by a click.
Mike scrambled to the other side of the tripod so he could view the picture. He studied it, grinned in approval, and then showed the others.
Because Sam had been pushed forward, she'd reached out an arm to break her fall. As a result, her fingers dangled precariously in the foreground. Despite this, she still looked flawless, as did Mike and Emily. Hannah was less than satisfied with her appearance, though she comforted herself with the thought that she was far from her final look for the night.
"Sorry for stepping on your foot," she muttered sheepishly to Sam as they climbed back up the grand staircase with Emily at their heels.
"Don't worry about it, hon!" A solemn smile drew itself onto Sam's lips, and Hannah's heart fluttered sadly. She's really going to let Josh's absence ruin her night… Hannah would've shared the thought aloud if she weren't running the risk of getting her head bitten off by the blonde. After all, it would probably be her fifteenth time mentioning her brother to Sam. Needless to say, he was a very sore subject by now.
They returned to Hannah's bedroom to find it empty. Immediately suspicion prodded at Hannah, and she bit her lip, scanning over her bed and Jessica's workstation. Everything seemed abandoned; mascara brushes and eyeliner pencils lay loosely twisted shut, and the slew of bobby pins Emily had brought from her house sat untouched on the dresser's surface.
"What the hell?" came from Sam, while Emily gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes and called out, "Very funny, guys. Come on out—"
She was cut off by a startling "ROOOOAAAR!" Beth exploded out of the pile of stuffed animals on Hannah's bed, waving her arms as if she were riding a rollercoaster. Teddy bears and pillow pets flew all over the place.
Ashley crawled out from the other side of the bed, giggling manically. She gathered the ends of her dress as she stood and acted careful not to ruin the face of a model Jess had painted onto her.
Jess was the last one to appear, popping out of Hannah's closet and leaving hangers swinging in her wake. Her hair was partially done, woven into a long braid that fell past her left shoulder as she skipped over to the others.
"Dammit, you guys!" Hannah groaned, right away bending over to pick up the limp stuffed puppy that had landed at her feet.
Jess snorted. "What, did we actually scare you?" She made her way back to the mirror, and snagged a few pins on her fingers as she added a finishing touch to her hair.
"No," Hannah lied. She placed a hand over her quickly-beating heart, trying to calm herself down. Why am I such a wimp?
She wasn't too shocked with herself for being scared, however. Matt's Halloween party last October had nearly made her piss herself just upon arrival, with that horrifying zombie that fell in front of her, her siblings, and Sam in the doorway when they tried to enter his house. Hannah would never admit aloud all of the nightmares she'd had for a week after that.
It took almost forty-five more minutes, but eventually the girls were ready to go.
Well, almost.
Hannah had darted off to the bathroom down the hall the second Jess had finished her hair. Now she stood at the massive counter, gazing at herself.
It was insane how drastically her stylish friends had transformed her. Hannah wore makeup regularly, of course, but she stunk at applying it. Some days, she became too frustrated and would go to school wearing even less than what Sam— who was not even close to a girly-girl— put on.
Jess had gathered up Hannah's long, frizzy locks and tamed them into a braid, which she then flat-ironed. When Hannah took out the braid, her hair had uniform beach waves that bounced against her shoulders.
Emily had brushed on shimmery eyeshadow, then applied light dabs of blush on either cheek. Matte pink lipstick gleamed on her lips. Healthy strokes of mascara on her eyelashes completed the look, though Emily had not-so-casually commented "it would pop more without those clunky glasses, you know" in the sing-song voice that bothered Hannah so much.
But right now, she was smiling. Setting down her glasses on the counter, she pulled out the brand-new contact lenses she'd been saving for this night.
Unfortunately for her, sticking tiny wet pieces of plastic in your eyes is harder than it sounds. It took almost twenty minutes to get just one in.
Just as her finger was nearing her other eye with the contact, knuckles rapped on the door and Sam's muffled voice boomed through the wood. "Hannah, honey, are you okay in there?"
"Um, yeah, I'm good!" Hannah called back. Her eye was watering like crazy, and she had to tilt her head back so the inevitable torrent of tears wouldn't smudge her makeup. Maybe I should've put these dumb things in BEFORE getting my face done…
"Okay, well…" Sam trailed off. Hannah had known her best friend for years, but there was still one subject Sam couldn't seem to shake the awkwardness from— and the brunette could sense Sam's hesitation in bringing it up, so she decided to rescue her.
"I didn't get my period or anything," she reassured her. "I just need, like, another minute."
Sam sighed. "Mmkay. Just, uh, putting it out there, but Jess is really getting antsy out here. She might be out for blood if you take much longer."
Hannah swallowed a laugh. "Got it, got it. I'll be out soon."
She heard Sam's footsteps fade down the hallway. Thirty seconds later, she was able to pop the second contact in. "Stupid things," she groaned, and grabbed a tissue to remove the wet, salty residue from around her eyes.
She found all of the girls gathered at the top of the staircase, fidgety and impatient just as Sam had described. Instantly, five pairs of eyes settled on Hannah and stuck to her like thumbtacks to a corkboard.
"Woah!" Ashley exclaimed. "Hannah, I don't think I've ever seen you without glasses—"
"So that's what took you so long!" Sam teased. She stepped up to her friend, her green gaze sparkling with amusement under mascara-laden lashes.
"You. Look. Fantastic," Jess squealed, and Emily agreed to this with an enthusiastic nod.
Hannah's hand traveled to her left arm, which she rubbed shyly. "Thank you…"
One by one, the girls traveled down the staircase. It really was the best set of stairs for the job, with its intricately-carved wooden railings and elaborate way of gracefully curling downward to the first floor.
Emily went first, her bold blue dress conforming well to her slim shape. The sheer garment almost appeared to be sashaying along with its owner. Mike was waiting at the bottom step for her, and he took her hand in his, placing a tender kiss on it before leading her out to the car.
Jess was next, and Matt looked positively star struck the moment he laid his eyes on her. She had gathered her braid behind her head, pinning it so that a few pretty blonde strands framed her face. Her icy blue dress hugged her gorgeous figure amazingly well, and as Hannah watched Matt's eyes rake over his date, it was clear he was imagining ripping that dress off of her later.
Then came Ashley, whose natural blush glared through the dusting of pink applied by Jess. Chris, in a spiffy white suit, looked like he had two tomatoes for cheeks. He took her hand when she reached the bottom, and folded her fingers into his palm gingerly as if they were made of glass. Hannah watched them go with a small smile, still somewhat in disbelief that Chris had found the guts to ask Ashley to prom.
All whom remained at the top now were Hannah, Beth, and Sam. Hannah took a moment to silently thank the gods above that her parents were on the road right then; otherwise, her mother would surely be snapping photos nonstop.
Beth still seemed a bit shell-shocked, and Hannah couldn't determine if it was because of her makeover or Sam's. Beth viewed Sam the same way Hannah viewed Mike; like she was a beautiful angel too pure for this world. It was a shame Sam was too concerned with their brother to notice.
Beth offered them a wan grin, and Hannah spotted the glimmer of envy in her sister's eyes as Hannah linked arms with Sam. Her twin concealed her thoughts well, however, and acted fairly cheerful as she stepped forward and gave Hannah a playful punch on the arm.
"You sure you don't wanna come?" Hannah asked despite knowing full well what her answer would be.
"Psh. You kidding? Not in these sweatpants!" Beth chuckled, and pulled at the stretchy waistband of her pants. "Jess and Em would be ashamed to show up with me looking like this."
"Aw, well I hope you have fun with your Netflix," Sam said.
Beth performed a casual army salute, her head bobbing up and down gleefully. "I sure will. Can't wait to see which new murder documentary they've got." She paused, then added, "Man, Hannah. I can't believe how different you look without your glasses."
Hannah's shrug dripped nonchalance. "I basically look like you without bangs."
"Right."
"Besides, you're lucky that you're the one who didn't get impaired eyesight," Hannah said.
Beth lifted her eyebrows. "Perks of being the youngest."
Hannah heaved a melodramatic sigh. "You know, when I was your age five minutes ago, I already knew how to shut up," she quipped.
Beth stuck out her tongue at her, while Sam tried not to roll her eyes. "Quit it, you two! The others are probably wondering where the hell we are."
Beth bade them farewell, and Sam and Hannah walked down the stairs arm in arm. Hannah was in a very chipper mood, because for once in her life she was confident about her appearance. She felt just as attractive as Sam, and that was definitely a first.
The limo driver was standing on the sidewalk at the bottom of the massive hill, bent over in a bow as he held the door open for them. The others were inside giggling and staring at Sam as she climbed in after Hannah.
"What is it?" Sam questioned them, her brow furrowing in confusion. Even with her face slightly wrinkled, she still looked perfect. Her silky blonde hair was slightly curled and pulled back in a loose bun. She was flawless.
Hannah was happy to say she felt the same.
A pig snort escaped from Jessica's adorable button nose. "You didn't see who the driver was?"
"No…" Sam trailed off, her eyes following the shape of the driver through the tinted windows as he circled around to his door. They heard a door slam as he got inside, and then a very familiar voice leak through the divider.
"Next stop, West Lake High School!"
Two green eyes exploded with joy. "Josh?" Sam gasped, pushing aside the little window in the divider.
Sure enough, the beaming face of Hannah's brother filled the open space. He tipped his hat and winked. "Yes, m'lady?"
Sam hid her grin behind curled, well-manicured fingers. "Do you even know how to drive a limo?"
Josh turned back around so he could peel away from the curb and begin their brief journey. "Shouldn't be too hard, it's just a long Cadillac."
The rest of the ride to their school was spent in a blur of excited giggles and horrifically bad dad-joke banter between Josh and Chris. Hannah was overjoyed that her brother had been able to come home from college after all, but at the same time she was afraid that her date might get stolen. Then who would she hang out with?
They arrived at just the right time despite the many delays they'd experienced. The sky was just starting to darken, the moon peeking out from among a cluster of clouds. Early bird stars were scattered across the sky like sprinkles thrown atop a cookie. The air was heavy with the scent of incoming rain.
Josh went to park the limo, and while the others all eagerly entered the gymnasium, Sam stood frozen at the curb, watching the taillights of the vehicle get smaller and smaller. Hannah touched her arm, and she jumped.
"Wha…?"
"Sam." Hannah exhaled, preparing herself for the long night ahead without her best friend. It's only fair, she reminded herself. "Hey… you don't have the spend this night being bored with me. You can be Josh's date."
Sam blinked up at her— even with her being in taller heels than Hannah was, she was still much shorter— and smiled uncertainly. "Hannah, I couldn't just ditch you! You're my date."
Hannah snorted. "Look, it's plain as day that you have a thing for my brother, and he has a thing for you too, he's said as much. If he hasn't asked you to prom yet, he's bound to when he comes back." She stared intently at her friend's face, trying to capture her gaze. "Really, it's okay."
"Hannah, I'd feel so bad—"
"I am giving you the go-ahead," Hannah said firmly. "Take it while you can."
Before Sam could argue any more, Hannah turned on her heel and marched into the gym on her own. As much as it weirded her out to think of her brother and her best friend being an item, at least that would mark the end of all the years of them not-so-secretly pining for each other.
The gym, which was home to so many dodgeball disasters, was now bathed in blue light. The walls, usually covered with banners of West Lake's tiger mascot, were now slathered with sparkly PROM posters. Hannah was glad she wouldn't constantly be reminded of her least favorite class and the sweat-stained orange and white uniform she was forced to wear.
It also looked as if a glitter bomb had been dropped in the large room; every vulnerable surface, including some people, had at least some trace of the stuff on them. Hannah spotted glitter raining inexplicably from the ceiling, and suppressed a sigh as it fell onto her and coated her bare arms. Hell, by now she was probably breathing more glitter than oxygen.
Yeah, so this year's prom theme? Definitely GLITTER.
Soon enough, the inner shame of walking into prom alone without a group or a date hit Hannah like a tractor trailer. She crept along the side of the wall, sliding against the folded-up bleachers as if she was some kind of stealthy secret agent on a mission.
She found herself standing next to the sad excuse for a snack table. Apparently their school considered a 2-inch-deep plastic bowl of tortilla chips and Chex mix sufficient "snacks" for a room packed full of at least 200 high schoolers.
The infamous punch was the closest thing to Hannah. Inconspicuously she poured herself a cup and took a sip. The fizz from the cheap club soda in it prickled down her throat, and reminded her of that one time Josh had allowed her to try a sip of something strong he'd been drinking called "Liquid Fire."
Her sensitive palette also detected something like Kool-Aid in the punch. Truthfully, the drink was probably composed of store brand Kool-Aid mix and 99 cent club soda that some poor soul had bought on their way here because they forgot it was their responsibility to buy it earlier.
In Hannah's humble opinion, the punch would definitely taste better with a few shots of her brother's "Liquid Fire" mixed in.
She stood there for a good ten minutes before anyone bothered to notice her. Three different shitty 90s dance songs cycled through— including Darude's mind-numbing "Sandstorm." Jess and Matt were dancing in a group in the heart of the crowd, while Mike and Emily were socializing their way toward the center. Chris and Ashley were off to the side, and from their tensed body language and cocked smiles, Hannah could tell there was definitely some awkward flirting going on.
Her eyes raked through the thick crowd for Sam and/or Josh, but neither was anywhere to be found. Maybe her brother wimped out and just kept driving the limo all the way back to the rental place. And maybe Sam was sitting outside, alone on the curb, heartbroken— shit, maybe I should go outside to check…
Hannah was about to move from her safe zone when a slightly familiar face bobbed in her vision: a blurred grin and messy brown hair interrupted in a few places by cowlicks.
"Ethan?" Hannah mumbled. She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. Maybe somebody already splashed some vodka into the punch? Or it was those stupid contacts acting up.
Ethan Wyatt. He was one of those cute guys who stood exactly in between nerd and jock; he was in the Mathletes club and played trumpet in the band, but was also a swimmer who looked very nice in a Speedo.
Ethan raised his eyebrows at her, sliding his hands in the pockets of his loose black dress pants. Glitter was painted onto the sleeves of his suit and on his cheeks. "Hey, Beth," he greeted her enthusiastically. "Listen, about that thing you told me after bio the other day—"
"Oh, I'm not…" Hannah halted in her tracks. One side of her was insulted that this solid eight point five on the cuteness scale had mistaken her for her twin. Yet the mini devil on her other shoulder was dying to know what her sister had said the other day. Beth is about as straight as the tangled earbuds in my jeans pocket. What the hell was she doing talking to an 8.5 cutie at school?
"I mean… uh, sorry. What were you saying?" Hannah quickly redirected herself. She and Beth so rarely took advantage of their identicalness, so why not appreciate it now? Especially when her "clunky" glasses were nowhere in sight.
Ethan hastily wiped the weirded-out look off his face. "Right. So I know you just wanted to talk about the bio test, but… I was wondering if maybe we could… um…" He lifted a hand and scratched behind his head. A faint blush colored in his cheeks, highlighting the glitter on them. "Uh, would you like to dance?"
Hannah had to swallow a shriek of "YES!" and reminded herself who she was supposed to be. Chill, normal old Beth. She could do this. "That would be great," she smiled.
Relief shined clear in Ethan's eyes, and he gladly took her hand, leading her out onto the dance floor. A slower-paced song had begun to play, and everyone's feverish grinding had settled down into nervous side-to-side swaying. Hannah spotted Emily and Mike with their foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, as they slowly circled around.
Seeing this made Hannah feel like she'd been hit in the face with a scalding hot frying pan, and she tried to avert her gaze. All of a sudden, the brunette desperately missed Sam. Where in the hell had her best friend wandered off to?
She felt Ethan's hands slip through her fingers and rest on her hips, similar to how Mike was embracing Emily. Hannah sneaked one more glance at her friends; Emily had her arms stretched upward, her hands meeting behind Mike's neck. Hannah copied this move with Ethan, and for a while they circled and circled. The blue lights were calm compared to the frantic and pulsing green, red and purple disco lights of the past several minutes. She had to resist the urge to rest her head on Ethan's chest. One constant thought repeated itself in her mind: Ignore Mike and Em. Ignore Mike and Em. Ignore Mike and—
"Woah, Beth, when did you get a tattoo?" Ethan questioned her. He had pulled back slightly, his eyes glued to the black butterfly on Hannah's upper arm.
Shit. "I, uh… I got it about a month ago," she said through gritted teeth.
"Doesn't your sister have the same tattoo?" he grilled.
"Kind of…? I mean, yes. Yes, she does. We got matching tattoos."
Ethan smiled. He believed her. "Aw, that's sweet." He seemed about ready to ask something else when the soothing blue light was abruptly cut and replaced with those thrashing disco lights. A more recent dance tune thundered out of the speakers. Without hesitation, everyone around them resumed grinding on each other. Disgusting, especially when Emily did it on Mike.
Hannah made a face. "Let's get outta here," she decided, barely giving Ethan a warning before she stomped out of the mass of sweaty and anxious teenagers.
When they emerged from the gross cluster, Ethan was still grinning at her. Hannah offered him a stiff smile in return. "So…"
"Look, Beth," Ethan blurted out. "Listen, I— I really like you. It was so awesome dancing with you out there, and your tattoo is really… well, really hot. Maybe you would like to… to go out with me sometime? Like to the movies? I hear Iron Man 3 is supposed to be pretty good. Y'know, if you're into superhero stuff."
Oh, no. Hannah had really gotten herself backed into a corner. She was supposed to be her sister— her lesbian sister, who definitely was not into this guy, or any guy. Why did Ethan have to crush on the wrong twin? Are my glasses really that much of a boy repellent?
Besides, Hannah hated superhero flicks. Beth loved that kind of stuff, though… no wonder Ethan had suggested Metal Man or whatever it was called.
The tiny angel on her shoulder finally piped up. It was time to tell the truth.
"Actually, Ethan… I should confess something," Hannah sighed. "I'm… not Beth. I'm Hannah. But—! I would love to go out with you sometime." Anything to get my mind off of you-know-who.
His forehead crinkled, and his lips formed a frown. Not a good sign. "Wait, you pretended to be your sister?" Hannah nodded. "Oh…" He slowly backed away. "I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"No, Ethan, please! You wouldn't want to date Beth anyway, she's not really… not really into guys. C'mon, please!"
He turned around and swiftly vacated the area, melting back into the crowd. Hannah couldn't get far chasing him considering the stupid heels currently killing her feet. "Dammit!" she groaned, returning back to her safe spot and pouring another cupful of that shitty punch.
And again she stood there for several minutes, taking sips and listening to various songs cycle through. Their differing beats slammed the gym walls with way more force than any rubber ball could.
More than once, she considered calling Beth to come pick her up. Even though she had plans with her friends after this, it was doubtful she'd even be noticed if she were missing. But again and again she convinced herself to stick it out.
Every now and then she looked up from the fizzing drink in her hand— which definitely had something else other than Kool-Aid and club soda in it by now— and scoped out her friends.
Still no Sam or Josh. Chris and Ashley were trying to figure out how to move their feet to a Justin Bieber song; they looked like newborn deer learning how to walk. Jess and Matt were taking a break at the side of the gym, and Hannah was vaguely surprised to see Emily chatting it up with them. Instant curiosity rose up within Hannah. Where was Mike?
She couldn't stop herself from ditching her safe zone by the snack table and meandering around the perimeter. He couldn't have just left, right? Not without Emily.
It was when Hannah rounded the opposite edge of the crowd that she saw something she never would've imagined seeing in her wildest dreams. She would've sooner expected to see Chris in a fairy princess dress than see this.
In the darkest corner in the gym, under the light that broke in the middle of freshman year and hadn't been repaired since, behind some dangling streamers and a mist of gold glitter, was Sam and Josh. They looked more like one person, however, seeing how close to each other they were.
Josh had gotten rid of his t-shirt and lame "limo driver" hat, trading them in for a handsome velvet tux. He was on top of Sam, who was pressed into the corner and kissing her best friend's brother with such an intensity that Hannah had never seen the blonde exhibit before in all her years of knowing her. Sam didn't seem to have as much passion for all the vegan snacks or wilderness hikes in the world as she had for making out with Joshua Washington.
Hannah didn't quite know what to say, and was left standing dumbfounded a few feet away from them. The very next thought that crossed her mind was good thing Beth's not here and immediately after came how has no adult here noticed this shit yet? There had to be poor teachers and parents on duty around here somewhere, right?
She was just about to move along and try to erase the image of them getting busy from her mind when one of Sam's eyes popped open. "Hannah…?" she yelled over the deafening music.
Josh spun around and removed his hands from where they'd been tangled in Sam's hair, which had clearly long ago fallen out of that bun. "Oh, um…" He cleared his throat, and straightened a bit so that he was no longer towering over Sam.
Hannah sent a small, bashful wave in their direction. "Have a little too much of the punch?"
Josh and Sam exchanged glances. "Um," Sam muttered. She was smoothing her hands over the dress she'd so reluctantly bought a few days earlier. "What punch?"
"You know," Josh smirked. "The punch. That red drink you sampled?"
Sam grimaced and looked as if she'd just tasted something rotten. "Ugh, that? It just tasted like straight-up vodka."
Josh wiggled his eyebrows. "That's because I dumped, like, a gallon of good stuff in that punch bowl. I thought it needed a little kick." He snorted. "The teachers around here don't notice shit. Nothing around here has changed at all since I left."
Sam studied him carefully, her eyes orbs of green fire. "Joshua, are you drunk?"
Hannah's brother lifted an arm and clumsily wagged a finger in Sam's face. "Pffft. Of course not, Sammy! I'm only as sober as you are."
Sam hesitated. "Hm. Well, in that case…" She grabbed Josh's shoulders and yanked him back down to her height, colliding her lips against his once again.
"Okay, guess I'll see you guys later when you're finished sucking each other's faces off," Hannah deadpanned. Rolling her eyes, she moved on past them, still keeping her eyes peeled for Mike.
She made a few more laps around the gym, and it was on her fourth trip around the track that she discovered Mike standing alone on the opposite side of the room. He was slouched against the wall, looking grim with his hands buried in the pockets of his glitter-coated pants.
Hannah's first instinct was to run out of his view. Her next instinct begged her to run over into his arms. But both were canceled out by Mike himself.
He glided smoothly across the gym towards her, like he was an ice skater and the dance floor was his rink. By the time he arrived in front of Hannah, her heart was beating faster than the time her siblings convinced her to go zip lining.
"Wow, Hannah. You look…" Mike paused so he could eye her up and down. She was pretty sure she was about to faint any second. "You look beautiful."
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "T- thank you. You look very… very handsome yourself."
A sly grin perched on his extraordinary face. "Thanks." Pause. "Do you…" He twisted around a moment, sparing the exuberant crowd a brief glance, before returning his attention to Hannah. "Do you wanna dance?"
Hannah would've eagerly accepted by all means, though she was scared of Emily's reaction. Even if Hannah and Mike didn't slow dance together, his girlfriend would definitely swear vengeance. She was also way too afraid of accidentally stepping on Mike's foot, or worse. "I don't really dance," she admitted. "Like, not well. I actually was thinking of going out for some fresh air."
Mike nodded. "Yeah, it is kinda stuffy in here, isn't it? Mind if I join you?"
Of COURSE I don't mind if you join me. Jesus! Who do you think I am? "No, not at all. Come on."
They walked out the same doors Hannah had entered by herself a couple hours ago. A few people also eager to escape the insanity inside were hanging out in the sixty-degree night, though they were few and far between. Hannah and Mike found a quieter spot around the corner from the gymnasium entrance.
Hannah gratefully filled her lungs with fresh, glitter-free air and leaned against the brick wall of their school. Mike did the same.
An ancient mural of their tiger mascot roared behind their heads. The orange and white paint was old and cracked, and had begun to leak down toward the sidewalk after living through many rainstorms. The weather-lashed brick was rough against Hannah's head, but was still a million times better than the grimy wall in the gym next to the snack table.
"So why are you alone?" she asked, shattering the silence.
"Eh. I guess I said something to piss Em off. She got annoyed and walked over to Jess and Matt and has been ignoring me ever since." Mike chuckled. "She's an interesting one, that Emily. Sometimes I don't know what I'm to do with her."
I know what you can do. Break up with her. "Aw, well… hopefully she'll get over it soon."
"For Emily, 'soon' roughly translates to two weeks. I guess I'm in for a long one," Mike replied. Hannah opened her mouth, but he wasn't done. "But I love her anyway. She's an intelligent, hot young woman. She seems much older beyond her years, y'know? Like, she doesn't seem like a senior in high school." He exhaled softly. "I guess we've all really grown up in the past six or seven years, huh?"
"Yeah…"
Mike reached up his hands and rubbed his stubble-lined jawline. Hannah had to suck the drool back into her mouth. He had a face hand-carved by angels. "I'm sorry, Han. I shouldn't be talking to you about how hot my girlfriend is. That's pretty shitty of me." He ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I dunno, I feel wasted somehow. I don't remember drinking anything hard."
Hannah giggled. "Did you have some of the punch?"
His head bobbed up and down in a nod. "I think everyone did."
"My Einstein of a brother dumped something alcoholic in the punch, god knows what. So now everybody is drunk thanks to him," Hannah explained. She spoke like she was embarrassed of Josh's actions, though she found it hilarious more than anything. She enjoyed the fizzy feeling the alcohol gave her; it felt like a packet of Pixy Stix had been poured into her blood. It was an exhilarating feeling, like she'd just finished riding the highest rollercoaster in the world.
A hearty laugh also left Mike's mouth. He leaned forward, doubled over as he tried to catch his breath. "Damn. Well, that explains a lot. And I think it's Matt we should be worried about. I saw him guzzling cup after cup of that stuff. The poor guy's such a lightweight."
"I kind of am too," Hannah hiccupped.
"Uh oh." Mike turned toward her, his shoulder pressing into the crumbling brick and the top of his head resting on the wall. "Not even you were spared from Josh's trickery."
"I'm his sister. I've lived with him my entire life. I have never been spared from Josh's trickery." Hannah could barely get the words out in the right order; she was too occupied laughing her ass off for no reason. The giggles kept tumbling off her tongue, uncontrollable and ridiculously loud.
Mike leaned forward to catch her before she fell to the sidewalk. "Maybe take those heels off before you break an ankle," he advised. "I've walked in those things before, they're really a bitch to your feet."
She shot him a look as if to say "you wore high heels?" and he immediately mumbled, "It's a long story."
Hannah bent down, undoing the straps of those feet-murdering shoes. She threw them into the side street in front of them, beaming as they splashed into a puddle. "Yay," she breathed. "I'm free." And again the giggles commenced.
"Wow." Mike murmured. He was gazing at the puddle wistfully as if it were a sunset on the beach. "I just watched a hundred fifty bucks go down the drain."
"Try eight hundred bucks," Hannah corrected him amid giggles. "Half of that was money I stole from Beth, too. She'll kill me."
She felt Mike's eyes burning holes into her face. She was too anxious, and too drunk, to really return his stare. "But you're too young to die," Mike complained, sticking out his lower lip.
Finally, Hannah forced herself to drag her gaze over in his direction. His eyes were warm, fuzzy and brown, like a teddy bear. She hadn't even noticed him take off the outer jacket of his suit, but sure enough the glitter-coated black coat was slung over one shoulder. The crisp white dress shirt underneath hugged his brawny figure, particularly his well-muscled arms. Hannah wondered how much Emily got to feel those biceps.
And his lips— so plump, so kissable. Hannah wanted to feel his stubble scrape her skin. She wondered how good Emily felt when she got a taste of those lips.
"Hannah? You in there?" Mike asked. One of his hands reached out as if to jokingly rap his knuckles on her head. Instead, however, he ended up brushing a strand of wavy dark hair behind her ear.
She wasn't quite sure what she was doing anymore. His fingers were still tracing a lock of her hair. Her vision blurred— fucking contacts. Or alcohol. Her hands traveled to his bowtie, playing with it and the buttons on his shirt.
"You look so different," he whispered.
Hannah's face twisted. "Yeah. Emily said I look a lot better without my 'clunky glasses in the way.' I look so good, a guy in there thought I was my sister."
"Don't listen to any of those assholes!" Mike grumbled. His words came out sharp and scathing, like the blade of a knife pricking skin. "You're your own person, Hannah. And I've always admired you for that."
"Yeah, well…" She nibbled on her lip, completely forgetting about the pink lipstick staining her teeth. She stumbled away from him, her toes curling against the cracked sidewalk. "Thanks, but… everything just… sucks sometimes, y'know? Well, no, you wouldn't, because you're Michael Munroe, class president and the guy who's had more girlfriends than anyone else on this planet. But life sucks for me, because I'm the Washington sibling everybody forgets about. I'm the shadow behind Josh and Beth. And even when I bother to look pretty enough for a stupid event like prom, I still get mistaken for being my twin! I'm so… I'm so…" Anger overwhelmed her, boiling over in her soul like a pot of water on the stove. She stomped out into the street, ignoring the chunks of gravel pricking her bare feet like needles. She bent over, retrieving her dripping heels from the puddle, and proceeded to slam one after the other onto the ground. She then kicked them down the hill that led to the school's parking lot.
Mike joined her, and they stood at the top of the hill, watching as a pair of $800 shoes tumbled against the cement, water droplets flying. A buckle on one of the shoes broke off, hitting the ground with a clang.
"Hannah." Mike sounded defeated. Her sullen eyes, just as dark and endlessly brown as his, swung over to him. "I'm so sorry you feel this way, I… I've been an idiot."
Hannah suppressed a wail, and shut her eyes to try and withhold the mess of mascara and tears that was sure to come in due time. She wondered if she could even cry with contact lenses in. The stupid things felt like bits of sandpaper eating away at her corneas each time she blinked. Fucking things. No wonder Ashley always complained about hers.
"You haven't been an idiot, Mike," she finally replied. "I'm just tired of obsessing over shit that doesn't even matter, like— like my crush on you."
She could feel his arm stiffen against hers. She shivered. He slid his glittery jacket over her shoulders. She shuddered. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her close. "I know. I, uh… Em told me."
Hannah snorted. "Figures. Oh, and I'm sure she was all like, 'Silly Hannah thinks she has a chance with you, Michael, I mean come on!'"
"Han. Please." Mike spun himself and her around so they were facing each other. She (and Beth) were the tallest of their girlfriends, but still Mike stood a few inches above her. Tallest of the girls, tallest of the guys. "Stop beating yourself up. I meant what I said before."
"Said before…?"
"When I said that you look beautiful." His hands were gripping her forearms. "You are a very pretty girl, Hannah. You could do much better than me, you know."
She rolled her eyes. She could feel the wetness dripping down her cheeks. Wrestling an arm free from him, she touched two fingers to her face and found them covered in watery mascara. "Could I do better than you, Mike? Really?"
"Trust me, you could. Your family is way better off than mine, for starters—"
"Money doesn't matter."
"Then looks don't matter, either! What matters is, like, having a beautiful soul."
Hannah sniffed. "Don't go all Jesse McCartney on me. Please."
Mike chuckled. His breath came out in a puffy cloud that billowed around his face. When did it get so cold? "You know what I mean. I'm not a good person, Hannah. I act like I am but I'm not. I cheated to win class president." At her stare of disbelief, he nodded vigorously. "I did. That's the same long story involving me wearing high heels. But anyway, if my soul were a person, it would be Steve Buscemi. But your soul— your soul would be Megan Fox. You are a good person, Hannah, a really good person. You deserve to be treated better by everyone, including me. It'll be hard because I'm a shithead, but I'll figure it out."
Hannah's eyes were wide as twin moons. "Thank you, Mike. That… that really means a lot, especially coming from you."
He leaned in close to her. Their noses were touching, just like how his and Emily's had been earlier. Hannah's heart knocked like a hammer against her ribs.
His lips brushed hers. "Maybe you should get back to Em—" she started, but he cut her off with a full-on kiss. She tasted the tang of alcohol on his breath, though in all honesty she probably tasted like that too. Alcohol, with just a hint of cherry Kool-Aid.
It was amazing. A flurry of thoughts swirled around her mind. Was it the tattoo that got him? Was throwing her expensive shoes down the hill all it really took to get him? Or was it just drunkenness blurring the line between logical and illogical thoughts?
"You're gorgeous," he whispered. His breath warmed her lips and tickled her cheek. "I wish I'd realized it sooner. Before it was too late."
"Too late?" Hannah furrowed her brows at him, but right when she was about to inquire further, there was a gasp.
Hannah and Mike broke apart, and again the gravel stung her feet. They both found Jess standing at the corner that turned off the main street where the gymnasium entrance was. She was leaning heavily on the building for support, and there was a dazed look about her. Her elegant hairdo was gone, with her blonde hair now hanging in a very messy fishtail braid. Probably she had more than a few helpings of Josh's spiked punch.
"Ohhhh shit, Mike!" Jess shrieked. She stumbled over as best as she could— at least she had her high heels dangling in one hand— and slapped Mike on the cheek. "How could you do that to Em?"
Hannah staggered backward, wincing as if she'd been the one who was smacked. Mike grimaced, rubbing his jaw for a moment, then sighed in resignation. "I know… I deserve that. I'm sorry."
Jess placed a hand on her hip and shook her head. "It's not me you should be apologizing to. But… I won't tell Em as long as neither of you ever tell her that I saw you."
A wave of shock, quickly followed by relief, hit Hannah square in the face. Hmm… would sober Jess have let us off so easy?
"Thank you," Mike said. He looked about ready to get down on the ground and begin kissing Jessica's pretty pink toenails. "Thank you so much…"
Hannah grinned stiffly at the blonde, but she only shot her a scathing glare. "Thank you, Jess—"
"Watch your step, Hannah," Jess growled. "Not every girl at this school can handle being with Mr. Michael Munroe." With a clumsy wink, she turned back around, gesturing roughly to Mike for him to follow after her.
Before he turned the corner, Mike stopped for a moment. He was still in just his dress shirt. Hannah hadn't even realized that she'd inadvertently undone his top button. "Hannah…" he began.
"Thanks, Mike. You made feel a lot better tonight in a way no one else could've." Hannah smiled as she saw her pink lipstick smears around his mouth. She motioned towards her own mouth. "Um, you got a little…"
"Ah. Right." A laugh as warm as Mike's eyes escaped him. "Might want to wipe that off before I go back inside." He wiped his mouth on the inside of his shirt collar and readjusted his bowtie. "Well, uh… see you later, I guess."
"Au revoir," Hannah murmured. Once he'd gone several steps without looking back, she returned to the wall with the tiger mural, releasing a squeee of pure joy. She pulled the empty sleeves of Mike's suit jacket closer around her. A brief longing for those sleeves to be filled with his arms passed through her, then she became too tired to care. Oh, god, I do not feel like doing a 1 am Denny's run with the group after this.
Yet no matter how much she would be reluctant to go, she knew she sure as hell would. Sam would sit stiffly next to her in the booth since nothing on the menu was vegan friendly or all that appetizing; Emily and Jess would steal fries from each other's plates; Matt would challenge Chris to see who could suck down their milkshake the fastest; Ashley would be giggling at the contest and sneakily recording it for Snapchat; Josh would probably insist that Sam head to the bathroom with him for "important reasons"; and Mike? Maybe he would sit across the table from Hannah, grinning and being his silly old self with a milkshake straw perched between his teeth.
And, at the very least, Hannah figured he would probably want his jacket back, even if it was covered in glitter.