Disclaimer: I'm Irish okay, we don't have proms, and no one can judge me for being miles off about how proms work. We have a 'Debs Night' and we can drink at 18 here so everyone just drinks at their Debs which is why I might be getting the wrong idea about prom. Yahoo Answers was consulted many a time!
Also, I only just realized that proms are typically held in ballrooms and stuff but I just don't want to fix that because that would mean changing a lot and I just don't wanna do that. #Sahrry.
I do not own New Girl or any of the characters.
~Prom Pondering Amidst a Broken Disco Ball~
"I'm sorry Nick but no."
"Okay, well, that's the last of the fancy clothes in the Miller closet."
He discards the heavily stained grey dress coat that probably fit perfectly fine when Nick was around five pounds lighter, aka. Not as muscly, and when he was quite a few inches shorter. Jess stands with her hands on her hips, lips pursed in consideration.
"Are you sure you don't want me to ask Schmidt for you?" She asks, pointing in the direction of the hallway. "He says yes to me like, ninety five per cent of the time."
Nick gives her a 'you must be kidding me' look and shuts the closet door, throwing himself back onto his bed and taking his head in his hands. She pads over to his side and places a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm so glad you agreed to do this, Nick. Really I am. It's sweet. But I get the feeling you're not as into this as I thought you were."
He glances up at her and raises an eyebrow. "What gave you that idea?"
She smiles and playfully slaps him.
"Alright Professor Sarcasm, lose the attitude. Let's just go to Target and see if we can get a semi-decent suit within your price range."
Nick groans and sits up reluctantly, his head drooping as she links her arm in his and pulls him from the bed.
"I'll go get my purse and we can go. And take those slacks off, your thighs look like they're being mangled."
He mocks her as she walks out the door and proceeds to pull the tight fabric from his waist, throwing them into the pile of unwanted shirts and other miscellaneous formal wear on the floor. He lets out a sigh of relief once he's gained the ability to breathe back and rummages in the other pile of dirty clothes he's been meaning to get down to the laundry room for his jeans. He cannot believe he's going along with it. 'It' being the idea of volunteering with Jess to help chaperone Sadie's niece's prom. A room full of a bunch of eighteen year old kids caked in makeup and dressed from head to toe in stupidly expensive silk and ruffles is definitely not the desired environment to be spending Friday night in, not less the fact that Nick kind of has a low tolerance for people ten to fifteen years younger than him. But she'd been so excited about it. Last week, when she'd come bounding through the door, her expression formidably overwrought, something inside of his head had warned him to run while he could. He'd only been half listening to what she was saying when she practically threw herself at him, all giddy and singing about how great it would be to get to experience prom night all over again. She'd then began rambling about how she hopes they'll play Hanson because she's a 'sucker for nostalgia' and then some stuff about snacks and low-sugar drinks, and then she'd asked him. Or rather, she'd told him.
"And they need one other person so I said I had someone who'd be willing to help out and they were super grateful. Can you guess who? If you guessed Nick, you'd be right."
"You did not."
"Oh yes I did! Settin' up tables, watching all those kids have one of the best nights of their lives, meeting new people, it'll be a blast!"
He shakes his head for about ten seconds to get the message across.
"Oh, it I can assure you it most definitely will not be a blast."
"Not with that attitude, it won't."
Then she'd skipped off to her room to text Sadie.
And now he's somewhat roped into it because she'd bribed him with mozzarella sticks and everyone knows that Nick's newfound love for those cheesy, fatty wonders is not too far off from being his kryptonite.
He's only got one leg covered when she skips back in, dressed in a navy pea coat with two thin strips of hair pulled back and clasped at the intersection, leaving the rest tumbling in a neat bundle of cascading curls over either shoulder. He quickly pulls the other leg up and fastens the button, startled by her unannounced arrival.
"Jess! I'm not ready yet."
She shrugs. "It's not like I've never seen you in your underwear before."
Suited up and ready to go, except not really because Jess is still adjusting his tie in the doorway, the two make their way to the high school gymnasium. They take Jess' car which is less liable to break down the second they get onto the highway. The whole way, Jess is singing loudly to Journey's 'Don't Stop Believing' and ignores Nick's pleas for her to shut the hell up. In the midst of her performance, she'll swerve the car in sync with the chords of the guitar and get blown at by a myriad of ticked off drivers behind her. Thrice she's nearly rear-ended the pearl blue Mini Cooper in front of them. It's a mix of adorable and really irritating, but Nick decides that he should probably render this as adorable because the entire night is going to be irritating on its own without her help.
"Okay so you know the drill, right?"
"Yes Jess, you ran over the rules with me every night before I went to bed. And for the record, I still don't think that 'pop quiz' was necessary."
"Yeah well, you got sixty three out of one hundred on that so I wouldn't go bragging about it too much." She says flatly. "Now recite back to me what we ran through in the last week."
Nick rolls his eyes and leans back, rubbing his palms together. "We get there, act cheerful, smile at everyone…"
She flicks a glance at him and swiftly returns her focus to the road, wary of the all the potential fatalities she could cause. "And?"
"Uh…" He trails off and scratches the side of his face.
"Don't start food fights! Don't start food fights Nick! That was the one answer you actually got right!" She snaps, tightening her grip on the steering wheel.
"Woah, chill out! Why are you so wound up over this? You're probably the only person in the history of ever to be nervous about chaperoning a high school prom."
"It's just." She takes a deep breath and exhales in the same few seconds, chewing her bottom lip. "Okay, you know how the non-tenure teachers got let off last semester?"
"Yeah…" He responds with a raised eyebrow. "Where is this going, Jess? You don't have like a secret job in this place do you?"
"No, it's not that. It's just that Paul, you know, Genzlinger."
"Mercedes Genz?"
She nods her head and pushes a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yeah him. He had contacts in this school so once he got laid off, he immediately got a job as a music teacher in Rockfield High…" She takes a deep breath. "Now do you see where this is going?"
"I'm guessing Rockfield is the one we're going to?"
She shakes her head nervously and turns onto a narrow back-road leading into the suburbs of Los Angeles, where the mundane view of analogous white houses with front porches and huge front yards decorated with weeping flowers and Ford Focuses in the drive comes into play.
"So you're telling me, that that forty minute drive is what Genzlinger has to take every morning?" Nick asks, referring to their endless journey to this damn place. He tries to sound like he's got everything in the world against this guy, which he kind of does, except now he has to amp it up because it seems like Jess does too, and he wants to seem superior in the scheme of the whole Anti-Genzlinger thing they've both got going on. Rule number one of dealing with women and exes: always side with the woman, and with passion.
"Actually no, I think he's got a house around here with Jen."
"Jen?"
She glances at him once again. "The girl I helped him propose to? You know, Asian Jess?"
Nick doesn't remember, but he smiles and nods and acts as though he's following without fault. "Ohhh, yeah… Jen. Yeah I hate her."
"I don't hate her, she's sweet, she didn't do anything wrong." Jess says, a tad quizzical of his attitude.
"Oh yeah, me neither. I just, I thought that like because, you know… I'm gonna stop talking."
"Good idea." She smiles.
They drive a little while longer before finally they pull up outside a church, so as to avoid getting locked in between two badly parked cars by teenagers with new driver's licences and lavish limousines carrying about ten kids. Jess immediately goes to assess her appearance in the front rear view mirror and pats down her bangs, which have been upset from all the head jerking and singing. She takes two spare bobby pins from the glove compartment on Nick's side, to which he makes a remark about women being far too obsessed with beauty and that there's 'absolutely no need to be carrying hair products in a car' and then she reaches under her seat for her bag.
"We need to run through the agenda."
"Agena?" He asks, scrunching up his face as though he's simply too intelligent and manly to have to run over agendas. Or so he thinks.
"Yes, the agenda." She echoes. She retrieves a small pink notebook and licks her thumb, flicking through the pages until she gets to the desired one, scrawled from header to footer with random, messy notes, those of which she seemingly understands, much to Nick's surprise and befuddlement.
"Okay, so first thing's first, we gotta help set up the chairs and tables."
Nick groans.
"Then we need to stand by the door and greet people and welcome them and stuff." She points to Nick. "Do not try to make sexual prom jokes to any of the kids."
"I do not know to what you are referring." He says, his chin slightly raised and a devious grin spread evenly across his lips.
"The 'Don't forget to use a condom after the prom-dom!' jokes. Just because I laughed doesn't mean they're appropriate. Don't make those, they're just kids."
"Jess, they're like eighteen! I'd hardly call them kids."
"Don't argue with me, Miller." She snaps, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Just follow me, do everything I tell you to." She smiles. "And have fun!"
They both get out of the car and Nick is slightly taken aback by the vision of Jess in the sunlight, her eyes glistening like two blue-silver gems filled with excitement and enthusiasm curtained slightly by her shiny dark bangs. Two strands with delicate curls fall loosely on either side of her face, bouncing daintily with every move she makes. The rest is pinned back with an elegant clasp decorated with pastel blue plastic flowers to cover the metal. The same blue lingers into an iridescent pale blue-green pattern on the fabric of her dress, cut into a form-fitting shape with a subtle skater-type skirt. She's kept it simple, yet appropriate, and he's kind of annoyed with himself for noticing every last detail, from the wings of her eyeliner to the immaculate soles of her kitten-heels.
She moves fluidly, her ivory skin soaking up every last ray of sunshine as she moves beneath it.
"Come on, it's this way."
"I'm assuming you've been here before?"
She smiles sarcastically and pats him on the back. "You picked up on that?"
He scoffs and they walk alongside each other, Jess still carrying the open notebook in her hands. Nick shoves his hands into the pockets of his new suit, the one that Jess insists makes him look tall and slimmer. He'd protested against the diamante cufflinks, because why the hell does he have to wear cufflinks to a high school prom? But she hadn't really given him a choice. It was either wear the cufflinks or no mozzarella sticks.
She hasn't said two words to him after they get about thirty yards down the sidewalk, distracted by her 'agenda' and not too interested in the goings on around her. Nick, being the sharp, alert guy he is, becomes aware of a minor obstacle set directly in her path in the form of a crack in the sidewalk.
"Uh, Jess?"
She ignores him, too engrossed in the words on the page to become aware of his frantic warnings.
Before he can stop her from meeting terrible fate with it, her heel gets caught in it and she lunges forward, quickly saved from colliding with the concrete by Nick's arms, which are pulling her back to her feet.
She gasps and places her hand over her chest in surprise.
"Thanks Nick. That could have been bad. These shoes knocked me forty bucks down the finance ladder."
He dismisses her and swallows. What the hell had jumped inside of him that caused such an unexpected reflex to catch her? I mean, they're friends, of course he's going to put her out of harm's way. He can't possibly be the only guy to have done that. Plus, Jess doesn't seem too phased by it, so he decides to let it slide and just get on with the night as he normally would: grumpy and in need of a beer or six.
Four hours later and Jess has basically been ordering Nick around all night, standing back to observe his work with setting up chairs and then making him go back to fix all the ones that seemed out of sync with the others. About twenty times now he's had to rearrange those dumb things just so that no two people are too close nor are they so far apart that initiating conversation would be awkward. The other chaperones were throwing things into place and then sitting back to talk to each other by the time Jess and him had gotten one single table ready. So far, Paul has kept his distance, being cordial of course, because, let's face it, he's the male Jess. He isn't not going to say hi to her. Nick has this curious instinct to make sure that he's ready to defend her, though, should he try to make any comments about how 'perfect his life in the suburbs is', even though he's profoundly known for keeping other people's interests at hand. Nick doesn't trust any of Jess' exes, because, and he's not afraid to admit it, but they really screwed up. Anyone who sees Jess, dressed up in bows and sing-narrating everything that's going on is immediately captivated by the glowing aura she emits, not on purpose, but naturally. He doesn't see much beyond that. They're friends, nothing more, and he's allowed to admire the quirks that she's known for just as much as the next guy.
Except right now she's ticking him off.
"Nick, we're going out to the door soon, could you see if the disco ball is still working?"
"Jess, I'm pretty sure the disco ball is working."
"Just check it!"
And with that, she starts towards the exit, quickly finding herself immersed in conversation with one of the moms she supposedly knows through Sadie. Nick stands awkwardly, alone, amongst the empty chairs and tables. Since when did chaperoning include doing the prom committee's job? When he was at school, all the chaperones ever did was try to avoid getting into riffs with the jocks. Pretty cliché, but undeniably hilarious. It's also pretty ordinary and not the least bit exciting. There are a few random shiny stars dotted on the ceiling, most likely useful for reflecting the cheap lighting to make it look a lot more extravagant than it actually is. And then there are metallic coloured streamers hanging from every last crevice in the room. All he can think about is getting his hands on the snacks laid out on the table at the far end of the gym and wallowing away in the hopeful thoughts of going home and not having to actually do anything except observe and try to get a buzz from the fruit punch he's still has faith contains a smidgen of alcohol.
Jess had told him the theme is Midnight Flare, except all he can see is dollar store decorations and yellow polystyrene moons hanging from the ceiling. The glasses on the table, beside the aforementioned punch, are themed to suit fancy house party champagne glasses with those dumb champagne poppers that just make unnecessary messes everywhere inside of them. He has this strange urge to bite them to see if they crack, thus proving that they're corporate lies encased in plastic made to look like genuine glass. It's all very censored and child-proofed. The rules about what moves can and cannot be made throughout the night to prevent anyone from feeling uncomfortable, the fake wine coloured punch and the restrictions on how far he can go with his jokes make the night seem positively juvenile. It's kind of depressing. He feels for the poor guys who think that tonight is finally going to be the night they get to initiate a lot more than heavy petting with their girlfriends when they get kicked out for being within three inches of each other.
He proceeds to check the disco ball that Jess has been freaking out over all night, because 'the disco ball at her prom didn't work very well and it was a real bummer because it really took from the atmosphere', and it works only kind of fine. He asks the DJ to play around with the controls and is slightly concerned when it starts getting stuck in one position. It moves though, so that's a good thing. He can easily pass it off as being an unfortunate occurrence, Jess doesn't have to know. Besides, it isn't his job to make sure everything's working without fault.
"Good job, Barry." He gives a thumbs up to the disgruntled middle-aged man wearing a grease-stained white shirt and a beanie and follows Jess out the door.
"So?"
"Hmm?"
She turns at him, her mouth slightly gaping in frustration. "What do you mean 'hmm'? Is the disco ball working?"
"Oh, yeah. Yeah it's all good. Phony champagne glasses look great too."
She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue, smoothing out her dress before the prom-goers start arriving. There's a handful of them, teachers; volunteers from outside the school; parents. And so far, Nick has only spoken to two of them. Jess, and the principal, who had been adamant that any severe infractions should be dealt with by her and only her. Nick's job is to monitor behaviour and make sure everyone is having a good night, which shouldn't be too difficult. Except the principal sort of scares him, with her mousy brown hair, pulled back into a tight bun, slightly stretching her skin over her bones pretty morbidly. She'd spoken in that way where you don't know whether or not they're being playfully intimidating or if their full intention is to make you feel as small as they possibly can, but he'd taken it on board that she'd been unusually friendly to Jess, so it's probably like a teacher thing where he's treated as the outcast.
The madness begins not long after Jess has fussed over how great all the other women look. Nick takes a moment to acknowledge some of the men, as though maybe he should do the same, but they all seem equally as disinterested as he does, so he just stands beside Jess, hoping that she'll cover any encounters he struggles to handle. Unless there's three feet of bar between him and the person he's talking to and a couple of bottles of liquor, the novelty is lost and he just feels uncomfortable, as though he's standing stark naked talking to some guy who's also stark naked and they're discussing how the economy is, a topic Nick knows little to nothing about.
He hasn't noticed how the once clear blue sky has contrasted into an orange-pink, summoning nightfall as the moon appears faintly behind the wispy clouds, which should probably be an indication that, while he had been caught up in making the room look relatively presentable, at least three hours had passed and it wouldn't be too long before all of his efforts go to crap by the girls all pushing their chairs together to talk about their dates and who's going home with who and what parties are on afterwards etc. It should have been a sure-fire sign that once the first car appears, the rest are definitely going to follow.
The first noticeable occurrence is when a plush red Ferrari, carrying about six teenagers pulls up outside of the school, leading a string of, as predicted, limousines, trucks, banged-up old cars only barely affordable for these kids and other motor-controlled menagerie. Nick feels a twinge of annoyance at the unnecessary audacity of the setting.
Why all the pictures? What memory could possibly be fuelled by taking a bad iPhone picture in front of your school and then slapping a dumbass filter with about twenty irrelevant hashtags on it? Shouldn't this have been done in a forest or by a lake or something? It's not like this is the last time you'll ever get to wear a dress that's a) too small for you and b) coloured so badly it's like you want to make your skin look as washed out as humanly possible. Stop screaming, you see those girls at school every freakin' day and you're giving everyone a headache.
They take their time, and Jess is having no problem with keeping up a cheerful attitude coupled with a shining, welcoming smile. Apparently once you've worked as a teacher all of this comes naturally to you, because Nick is the only non-teacher here and he has no idea what to do with his hands without it looking forced. There's only about three people at the door, himself, Jess and some woman Jess has been talking to about her old school with for the last ten minutes. The school is decorated with white and blue balloons, littered up the steps and stuck onto the archway at the door, bobbing in the cold evening breeze. They make sure not to stand too close to it, the aim being to seem invisible while simultaneously present enough to greet the endless crowds of teenagers, dressed in corsets and lavish gowns and tuxedos and god knows what else. There must be at least a million dollars' worth of clothes amongst all of them. He can pinpoint the guys and the girls who have come alone, the girls with dates, the guys with dates, the friend groups, the people who want to be there, and, like himself the people who don't want to be there. He tries to supress the urge to scream 'FALL!' every time someone lifts the skirt of their dress as they scamper up the steps to the entrance, too enticed by how they look to bother worrying about falling flat on their face. Hey, it's not his fault he's so immature. He didn't choose to be here.
"Hey, you all look great!" Jess chirps, gesturing towards the entrance and gawking at the endless sea of, as Schmidt would call them, youths. His best bet is to mimic her, so he just kind of hangs around and repeats everything she says, follows every movement she makes, and is relieved when she refrains from falling into conversation with them, as Jess is renowned for. She nudges him every so often to make sure he's still on earth and not off in some Nick-fantasy dreamland which he's inclined to fall into any moment now.
They stand outside, mumbling the same inaccurate welcomes to every last person, who couldn't give a single care about the chaperones, before they finally get inside after them. There's an anti-climax once everyone is piled into the gym, which had obviously been overestimated in terms of capacity. First of all, moving around in large crowds is somewhat of a difficult task, and apparently there had been rumours going around the school that they'd have the ceiling painted into the night sky with shooting stars or some rigmarole like that. Already, Jess' plans of reliving her prom are beginning to shine through with excellence, considering the disappointment has already made itself known to each and every last person in the room. However, she's still smiling and walking around, complimenting the girls on their dresses but keeping out of the way at the same time. Nick stands on the side lines, content with letting the other, more qualified chaperones to do the work. After all, it doesn't seem like there's any real desire for these kids to be bothered by random adults they've never seen in their lives.
The playlist for the night can only be described as two words: annoying and generic. They play this band that has been around for almost a year and are so famous that he's never heard of them called One Direction and they set off a whole gang of girls who start screaming about how 'this is their song' and proceed to give Nick a migraine with their awful singing. Then they play songs from the nineties, so that there's a glimmer of hope that the lyrics of the Spice Girls haven't been forgotten into the new age. Needless to say, Jess is ecstatic to be able to sing about her lover getting with her friends and what not.
The disco ball stops spinning less than forty minutes in, which the DJ tries to cover up by making up an impulsive lightshow with the multi-coloured spotlights Nick had told him to use in case of emergency. No one seems to care, though, and Nick stays out of Jess' path should she frame him as the culprit in the broken disco ball mystery. They play slow songs, which everyone with dates takes as a chance to have a romantic movie moment with each other, and the dance-floor becomes a mirage of hands around waists, heads on shoulders, eyes locked on eyes and a whole other bunch of sappy stuff Nick is slightly sickened by.
Jess comes over to him with a person he doesn't know at least three times and then the person vanishes randomly and he and Jess stand and talk about the night and how everything's going. She thanks him a few times for coming with her and then he finds her leaning against his shoulder as she watches all the young lovers, hand in hand, dancing the night away to Stairway to Heaven and Adele and reminisces on her old prom and how she'd never gotten to experience a slow dance. Apparently Gus had been too socially awkward to dance in public, so she'd been forced to sit and watch on while everyone else got lost in the music. Nick can only tell her that it's overrated anyway and that she isn't missing out on much, and then she darts off across the room to deal with someone who looks like they're about to pass out.
About halfway through the night, after all the kids are over this whole 'dance' thing and three or four people have had to be escorted out for being too provocative, Jess approaches Nick for the first time in ages, accompanied by a lanky man dressed in a blue shirt, black tie and grey dress pants, similar to Nick's only they look about twenty dollars dearer and withhold a lot more integrity in the fibres. He looks somewhat of a train wreck albeit halfway to being an Adonis in the eyes of young girls in their twenties who find unkempt half mullets attractive.
"Nick, this is Kyle. Kyle, this is Nick." Jess beams, placing an introductory hand on each of their shoulders.
"'Sup." The man greets with a half-hearted smile and a firm handshake. His voice is intimidatingly deep and he makes Nick feel a little uncomfortable, not that he's at all made feel inferior to this guy.
Nick nods his head cordially, not too interesting in being roped into making any more acquaintances he's expected to send a Christmas card to by a very persuasive and overly festive Jess. He's got enough trouble as it is finding something witty to write on the cards as well as having to find out everyone's addresses.
"So are you a teacher too?"
"No man, I'm just helping Jess here, y'know?" He says flatly, making it clear that he is in no way open to lending a hand at next week's bake-sale or fundraiser or whatever the hell event this school runs.
Jess shakes her head in agreement, backing up Nick's statement.
"I see."
Kyle drags out his syllables in a really annoying way. It's almost as though he sees through Nick's (badly put up) façade and notices the lack of enthusiasm.
"So are you two…?" He asks, moving his hand between Nick and Jess. There's a brief pause as either of them try to make sense of what he's saying. They simultaneously come to the realization and are quick to deny the suggestion.
"No! No, we're just roommates." Nick vociferates, raising his hands in defense.
"And friends." Jess smiles. "We don't hate each other or anything. We're friends."
"Right." Kyle says, slightly sceptical of their joined frantic response. "Well Nick, Jess tells me you're from Chicago."
"Oh yeah! Kyle's a Cubs fan." Jess excites, placing her hand yet again on Kyle's shoulder. "So is Nick!"
Too much contact for my liking. Wait what? No, there's no problem with contact, what am I saying? Jess is allowed to touch any guy she wants… Wait, no, not like… You get the idea. Yes brain, thanks for clearing that up.
"Awesome, you never see Cubs fans around here. Everyone's so obsessed with which celebrity is pregnant with who's baby and all that nonsense."
"Tell me about it." Nick laughs dryly, eager to walk over to some isolated area of the floor away from this guy. He'd promised to help make sure no one attempts to get pregnant at this thing, not make small talk with some big shot teacher dude that he has no intention of getting to know.
"Why don't you guys talk some more? I think you'd be really great friends." Jess smiles. "I'm gonna go talk to Sadie's niece, see if she's having a good time."
"Wait, Jess-." He stutters, desperate for her to stay so that he doesn't have to, but she's already out of earshot and now he's faced with the task of trying to sound remotely interested in Kyle and what he does with his life.
He smiles as best he can back to his new 'friend' and listens to him ramble on about how rewarding teaching has been and how it's a dream come true and how great mozzarella sticks are except for he never actually talks about those, Nick's brain is just so overwhelmed by the thought of them that it kind of looks like he's talking about them and this is really helping him to seem engaged. He smiles and nods and follows all of Jess' guidelines for being appropriately nice to people he doesn't particularly want to be nice to, and he's tuned out for the most part up until this Kyle guy starts asking about Jess.
"So, you guys aren't together, right?"
"No, we're not." Nick repeats. "Just friends, man."
"That's good then, because it'd be pretty awkward if I asked her out and you guys were together."
"Yeah, yeah. Totally awkward." Nick chuckles, not really fully aware of what he's just said, but he's beginning to realize that Kyle plans on coming on to Jess… At a high school prom. "Wait, man, you're planning on?"
"Mhmm." He nods.
"With Jess?"
"Yes indeed." Kyle grins, rocking back and forth on his feet.
Nick shakes his head, not about to let Jess fall into the arms of yet another teacher. Partly because he can't handle the idea of having two teachers in one setting, especially since he's only know Kyle fifteen minutes and he's already sick of the sight of him, but also because of some unknown reason backed up by his conscience, telling him to jump in and do something before he can get within two feet of Jess.
"Actually, we are together."
"Oh." Kyle says, tilting his chin.
"Yeah, Jess doesn't like to talk about it but, we're together."
"That's disappointing." He nods, clasping his hands together. "Well, you're a lucky guy."
"I sure am." Nick grins, giving Kyle two thumbs up in the efforts of making this seem as genuine as possible.
What the hell is he doing?
"I guess… there's not much else to talk about really, is there?"
Nick breathes a sigh of relief once Kyle says that, because at least they're on the same page here that there's no real bond ever going to form with the way Nick is carrying on. He agrees and Kyle bids him farewell before disappearing to some unknown depth of the gym, lost in the swarms of people. Once he's gone, Nick ventures through the clusters of dancing teenagers to find Jess. All the restrictions on certain behaviours seem to have been forgotten, as he's already picked up on about three couples making out against the wall. He wonders whether or not he should stop them, but he'd be a hypocrite considering the fact that he'd done much worse at his prom and besides, you only live once. What harm are they doing to anyone else? If anyone gives him grief about it, he can just say he hadn't noticed. Who's going to deny him of that?
His next thought is on a completely unrelated note. What in the name of God had compelled him to come up with such an elaborate lie just to stop Kyle from getting with Jess? Why should that bother him of all people? After all, he'd proudly declared them as friends, putting full meaning behind his words because he really doesn't see them as much else. Friends help friends out, though, and for all he knows, this guy could be a potential murderer and Jess' would be up on the evening news on missing persons' all because he hadn't stopped her from getting involved. That seems like a valid excuse.
He decides to roam around just to make it look like he's doing his job. He hadn't actually intended on being needed by anyone.
"Nick! There you are, can you come over here for a second." She calls from a table across from him. He scans the crowds for her until the pink of her dress is lit up gently by the spotlights and dashes over to her, sensing the panic in her voice. She's knelt down beside a girl, with one elbow balanced on her knee and her free arm is placed on the girl's back, rubbing it reassuringly.
"What's up, Jess?"
"This is Alannah. Alannah, this is Nick." Jess gestures to Nick, who's standing feeling very disgruntled with hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Hi Alannah."
The girl doesn't respond. She's sat on the small gold chair with her knees pulled to her chest and her thick curly blonde hair tumbling down around her face, making it only partially visible.
Jess stands up and leans in to whisper in his ear.
"Alannah has really bad social anxiety or general anxiety or something and her friend ditched her earlier on in the night." She glances back at the cowering teenager, feeling a pang of sympathy at the sight of her.
"I need you to help me get her out of here, just so she doesn't have a panic attack or anything."
Nick furrows his brow. "Shouldn't we just try to find her friend?"
"Yeah, that's not happening." She says flatly, throwing a hand in the direction of the crowded gym. "Come on."
She returns to her original position and tilts her head level with Alannah's.
"Alannah, we're gonna go with Nick out to the hallway for a sec okay?"
"Jess, she's not four."
She glares at him and proceeds to coax Alannah out of the chair, only barely able to hold her shaky, limp stature up on her own. Nick goes to help, but Jess abruptly stops him. Instead, he walks out alongside them, wavering people off to sides to make for an easy maneuver out of the gym. He pulls up two chairs from outside of some random office and sets them beneath a huge school banner.
He stands and leans against the wall, watching as Jess talks in soft tones to the girl.
"Do you have any medication with you?" She asks, trying to sound as discreet as she can.
Alannah shakes her head and responds with a quiet 'no.'
"Do you want us to call someone?"
"Yeah, has she tried calling this friend of hers?" Nick says dryly, wishing he hadn't been so easily taken advantage of by cheese snacks. He's not a qualified doctor, or a therapist, or a functioning human at that. What makes her think that he's the best person to help in this situation.
"Nick, come here and sit with her while I try and find the principal." Jess orders, pointing to the spot on the other side of her.
Nick groans and staggers over, throwing himself down beside her. Jess smiles up at the girl and assures her that Nick is in fact, not some murderous lunatic and that she'll be back in a few minutes.
And then Nick is in Jess' position, trying to start conversation, but instead is drawing more of a reaction from the posters about anti-bullying on the wall across from him. He flinches a few times when she draws in a deep breath, definitely not cut out for helping a young girl with anxiety in times of desperation. He's only seen people have panic attacks twice in his life. The first time was just before Winston's driving test, when he'd ran out of his room in the middle of the night, half naked down the road to Nick's house and managed to put a dent in the door with all the bashing he'd been doing. This time is the second.
Jess is far more equip to handle this, but at least this is an opportunity for him to prove that he's not a total failure. To himself and to Jess.
"So uh... you have a good time? You know, apart from this whole..." He trails off and rubs his palms together nervously, blinking a few times in addition.
"Yeah it's been a blast." Alannah responds sarcastically, resting her head in her arms. "It's always fun when your best friend leaves you so she can go make out with her boyfriend."
Nick is slightly taken aback by the fact that she can actually talk. He decides that this is a good topic of conversation, since she seems to be on the same page as him.
"I didn't want to come tonight." She croaks. "I just came to make Tessa happy."
"I feel ya, kid. Miss Day dragged me here."
"Who's Miss Day?"
"The chaperone gone to call your principal." He responds
"Oh yeah, her. She's kinda nuts isn't she?"
"I hear ya. I've lived with her for two years. She bakes cupcakes a lot though, so I can't complain."
She laughs and clasps her hands together in front of her, inhaling deeply.
Almost as soon as they start talking, Jess comes skipping around the corner alongside the same mousy haired woman, her face looking worn down more than earlier.
"I'll take it from her, Miss Day, you go in and enjoy the rest of the night."
Jess thanks her, they both say their goodbyes after their brief encounter with Alannah and they return to the gym.
"So, I see you guys hit it off?" Jess smiles, patting Nick on the arm.
"She's a cool kid."
"Well Nick, I'll say it this way, I've never thought of you as a parental guy."
Nick winces but nods along with her. "I guess I am."
He totally isn't.
Alas, the night draws to a close and Jess has spent two thirds of it conversing with half the students and making sure the punch bowl is topped up every so often. She's spent some of it refraining from starting a huge dance off in the middle of the floor, even when they do play Hanson, and instead she lets out a breathless squeal before tugging at Nick's arm and drawing a measly response from him in the form of a headshake and a pat on the back. She still knows nothing about that Kyle guy, which Nick is hoping to keep to himself, and instead she's busy thanking everyone for coming, wishing them safe journeys home and not to go too crazy at the parties they're all spreading out to. Nick, once again, mimics her and then they seek shelter from the cold night air back in the gym and Jess announces that they'll be those 'losers' who hang back and help clean up. And supposedly Nick hasn't got a problem with it either, her words not his.
"So, did you have fun tonight?" She asks, still slightly hyper from the energy of the night.
"Well, I didn't wind up killing anyone."
She laughs and begins throwing empty cups into black sacks while he deals with sweeping up the dance floor to rid it of loose streamers and fake eyelashes that must have come off during the more upbeat songs that caused a massive dance parties every so often. The food had been cleared without hesitation, so all that's left to clean there are plates, meanwhile they've decided to leave the chairs and tables because not enough people had stayed back to help. And by not enough, there's literally only three people who have bothered to stay back. Nick, Jess and Paul. The three natter on about what they thought of the night, Nick having only the bare minimum to say other than at least no one died. They each find some humour in it and continue on as though there's absolutely no trace of awkwardness between them.
"So, how long as this been going on for?" Paul asks suddenly, fetching another sack from the roll.
"How long has what been going on for?" Jess asks with a raised eyebrow and a quizzical expression.
"You two. 'Ness.'" He teases. "I was trying out that Hollywood couples' shorthand term thing. I guess it's hard when you each have one syllable in your name. I guess you could try Nessica or Jicholas but…"
"Wait up. Since when are Nick and I a couple?" She asks sternly, averting her gaze to a rather guilty looking Nick. "Did Nick tell you we were a couple?"
"No." He trails off, throwing a handful of paper plates on top of the other miscellaneous garbage. "The history teacher did. Kyle's his name I think."
Jess shoots daggers at Nick, her cheeks beginning to glow red as a result of humiliation and anger.
"I have no idea what he's talking about." Nick asserts shakily, avoiding eye contact with Jess.
"Don't lie to me, Nick. Did you seriously tell Kyle we're a couple?"
Paul stops what he's doing to look up at the two in question, aware that he's stirred up something he'd never intended to stir up. He decides it's probably best for him to get out while he can and mumbles an excuse about having to get home to Jen and scurries out of the gym, his coat slung over his shoulder.
Nick has no alibi. He can't say that he'd never said it, because he had, and he'd had a good reason for it, or so he'd thought.
I was protecting you from living your own life because I'm your friend!
Yeah, that seems plausible. She's dropped the bag and she's now face to face with him, her finger pointing accusingly at his chest. "Why are you going around telling people we're a couple? Is this some insane way of getting me out of going on dates with people? We had one night together, Nick. You even said so yourself!"
"I know, Jess, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
"Clearly you didn't."
She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and rests her arms down by her sides, staring down at the floor.
"Look, I'm grateful that you came along, but I can't be excited for you when you go around doing dumb stuff like this."
"I don't think I've ever done this before." He responds, slightly discontented with her right now. Because he had indeed come along to this hell of a night, and he'd endured all of the annoying teachers he'd been forced to converse with throughout the duration of the dance, and now he's being yelled at as his thanks? What he'd done is pretty minor considering he's capable of doing a whole lot worse.
"Don't." She cuts off and takes a deep breath. "Just… just apologize and we can forget this ever happened."
"It's going to end that easily?"
"Do you want to make a big deal out of it or something?"
He doesn't answer.
"Okay well." She brushes a strand of hair from her face and picks the sack up again. "Let's finish up here and we can head home. You decide what it is you want from me."
She turns away from him and walks over to the far end of the room where the trashcans are, hidden away behind some chairs in the corner. Nick stands in the middle of the dance floor, deep in thought. He considers everything that's just happened. Everything that she's just said. Something inside of him wakes up. His beliefs that stopping Kyle from asking Jess out were based purely on friendship seem so idiotic to him, and he wants to slap himself for even thinking such a made up, badly thought out idea could be a plausible explanation. He wants to keep up this charade and tries to dismiss impending feelings he feels coming back for Jess. The same ones he'd sure had been dealt with after they'd finally slept together. Apparently not. He's sick of following his conscience, because so far that's brought him nothing but regret. Ever since they'd decide to call their almost-relationship two months ago, he'd lain awake at night, pondering all the wonderful things they could have done together in that moment in time. He'd wanted so badly for her to beg him to uncall it, but she never did, and he was scared she'd made up her mind. He'd always been so scared. Just like his father had. He'd run away when the universe was edging him on, giving him the signs that he should stay true to himself and let his emotions run wild. And now, it's doing it again. This is finally his second, and potentially his last chance to try again without giving up so easily. He watches her as she moves back to him, her shoulders hanging tiredly as her posture weakens once she gets near to him, as though she wants nothing more than to crawl into bed and pretend like everything up to now had been a mere fragment of her imagination.
"Come on, let's go." She says dryly, heading out towards the exit.
"I do."
She turns around. "You do what?"
"I do want to make a big deal out of this." He responds almost immediately.
"What do you mean?" She asks, sceptical of what he's saying. "You know what, let's just go home and we can talk about this in the morning."
"No, Jess."
She sighs and folds her arms, waiting for the grand gesture he seems to be building up to. He puts up a finger signalling for her to hang on a moment and runs up to the isolated DJ decks, thankful that the computer is school property and the guy had never bothered to power it down. He skims through the playlist, searching for one particular song. One that he'd been made wary of a few months back by Winston. Once he finds it and hits down on play, the room is filled with the opening chords to Adele's version of 'Make You Feel My Love.'
"You said you never got to experience a slow dance."
"Nick…"
Before she can protest, he holds his hand out to her, bowing gracefully before her in an old-English style fashion.
"Can I have this dance?" He says with a cheesy grin.
"Is this want you want from me?" She raises an eyebrow and tries to suppress her laughter.
He nods and she rolls her eyes, letting out a small sigh mixed with a giggle. "Fine, Nicholas."
She takes his hand and he pulls her in close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. They move back and forwards, Jess knee between his legs as they do so. He's smiling down at her and she's smiling up at him, giggling every time he tries to lip sync with the song. She's extremely confused by it all. How the hell she'd gone from storming out on him to being pressed against his chest in a dimly lit high school gym with a broken disco ball, which she will most certainly acknowledge when they get home.
"I'm sorry for doing that." He says in a low, hushed tone, tilting his head slightly to the side and smoothing down a strand of hair covering her eyes. I know you hate when people spread rumours."
She shrugs as best she can in his grasp, boring deep blue, lustrous eyes into his. Wondering if she's got the right idea from the song, Nick's arms pulling her close and the butterflies in her stomach.
"It's not a rumour if it's true." She chokes out, biting her lower lip.
"What do you mean?" He asks, knowing full well what she means. "We're just two friends, dancing in a gym to Adele like all friends do."
A glint of disappointment crosses her expression, but is quickly reprimanded when he tilts her chin up and moves his lips close to hers, breathing softly on them. She feels her knees go weak at the action.
"I'm kidding." He smiles, pressing his lips to hers. He fills the kiss with passion, not frantically pushing her up against the wall or shoving his tongue down her throat as he had done in the past, but he sends her a thousand words through his lips as they brush over hers, taking in the sweet taste of her cherry lip-balm. She lets out a tiny moan as the kiss deepens and he pulls her closer to him, feeling the hot flushes of her skin against his as their foreheads touch and their lips part, each of them a little breathless, but still smiling. She giggles once again and he places the palm of his hand at her jawline, brushing his thumb against the rosy glow of the apples of her cheeks.
"You look so beautiful." He whispers, making her blush even more. He nudges her closer, letting her chin fall on his shoulder as they continue to dance, slowly and gracefully with the music.
"I spent three hours getting ready I should I hope I look beautiful." She smiles bringing a hand up close to his shoulderblades. He chuckles and commences the bad lip syncing again.
"So, should I call Kyle, or...?" He jokes.
She looks up at him and flicks his forehead in response, shaking her head. "It's almost like you live to destroy special moments."
"Did I tell you I saw three kids making out today?"
She nods her head, looking quickly down at her feet and then back up at him, her eyes awash with fatigue and a glimmer of seduction.
"I know. So did I."
"And Miss Day did nothing to try and discipline them?"
She purses her lips guiltily. "I guess I just didn't see the problem with it. You only live once."
Nick smiles subtly, remembering his exact same thoughts earlier on in the night.
"Nick?" She trails off.
"Yeah Jess?"
She clasps her hands behind his back and locks her eyes on his, before nestling in the crook of his neck.
"Are we uncalling it?" She mutters against the shoulder of his shirt.
He plants a kiss on her temple and let's his chin rest just at the top of her head. He cherishes the warmth radiating from her as her cheek rests against him, never wanting for the moment to end.
"We're uncalling it."