Prom
You know those days school kids look forward to from the moment they really know what they are? Well, those were the days I was dreading the most.
This may sound morbid, but something died in me that day a group of bullies beat the shit out of me just because I wouldn't let them into dad's lab to play with the spare Ironman suits. It wasn't that I didn't want to fit in anymore, it was more like I just realized that, as long as I was so much younger than those I studied with, It simply wasn't going to happen.
And so I stopped trying. I didn't talk to many people outside of class, unless it was for an assignment; I didn't get into clubs; and most importantly, I didn't go to social functions, at least, not most of the time.
I knew early on that I wasn't going to be able to get out of the actual graduation ceremony; that entire process was more for the parents anyway, and I owed them that much.
What I hadn't counted on was having to go to prom. I had figured that my parents, being the intelligent and mature individuals they are, would see the potential hazards of having me and Astrid (really, who else would I go with?) locked in a ballroom with a bunch of horny teenagers who made my life hell.
But no… it was a rite of passage.
And that's how I found myself dressed up in a little Armani suit trying to use the breathing techniques Bruce taught me, in an attempt not to give myself a anxiety induced heart attack (is that even possible?).
"Pepper, lay off the pictures. Can't you see the kid's miserable?" Thank you daddy. "It kind of sucks that he's too young to really enjoy the night." You prick.
"Uncle Tony!" Astrid laughed, "Unlike you, we actually know how to have a good time without doing inappropriate things or causing vast amounts of property damage."
"We do?" I asked and dad started cracking up, the dirty minded old bastard. I was talking about the property damage. Astrid wasn't exactly known for her restraint when it came to her own twisted form of humor. But then again, I was always right beside her, so did I didn't have much room to talk.
"Oaky, can we go now? I just want to get this over with as soon as possible," I said tugging at the collar of my tux.
"Not quite," Astrid answered, even though the question wasn't directed at her. "You're not dressed right."
She put her finger to her lips as she studied me. "There."
"What?" I asked, taking the fingers out of my collar. I couldn't keep the confusion out of my voice and looked down at my suit. She had changed the color of the vest form a pale gray into a vibrant sapphire blue. The same sapphire blue she had long ago claimed as her signature color.
"Now we match." Astrid said, motioning to her own choice of attire. Her dress was a little conservative for a senior prom, and yet it was a little mature for her age.
"Great, now I'm getting dressed by a girl." I muttered, not even trying to keep her from hearing.
Astrid used her thumb and middle finger to flick me right between the eyes using just a fraction of her strength (if she had used all of it, my brains would probably exploded out of my head like in an early 90's cartoon).
"Oww."
"A girl with a lot more fashion sense than you, so get used to it," she muttered before dragging me over to the door so mom could get a whole bunch of pictures.
I had wanted Astrid to just puff us over there—less fuss that way—but I was overruled. And so, we found ourselves in the back of a stretch limo (although I will never understand why dad felt it necessary to book the one with a fully stocked mini bar).
"Are you okay? You look like you're about to throw up," she said as we pulled up to the steps leading into the grand ballroom of the swankest hotel in the city.
I looked at Astrid, my face probably as green as Bruce on a bad day. She didn't get it. Of course not. I may have been getting thrown to a pack of hyenas but she was a lion; she had nothing to worry about. But I knew the truth.
Despite earning the right to be there, I didn't belong. I was just a child trying to sneak into his parents New Year Eve party. The nice girls would gush like I was a one of those horrible small dogs that had the misfortune of having owners that believed they needed little cloths and accessories to match whatever the human was wearing at the time. The mean girls and guys would try to make tonight hell for me.
I would have skipped prom completely had it not been for my mother. Even though she had never said it, I knew she wanted nothing more than to see me all dressed up in my little tux and pretending to be a big boy.
And that's all I would be doing: pretending.
"I don't belong here," I whispered mostly to myself.
"You don't? I thought it was for all seniors not just the ones who have managed to hit puberty."
"Real funny. Not." I spat, causing her to laugh.
There were days I wished I was more like her—able to just let everything run off my back like water but, for some unimaginable reason, that particular trait had yet to rub off on me despite the fact I had caught her sarcasm long ago.
It was easy for her to say. With the way her makeup was done, and probably a little bit of magic, she could pass for a freshman or sophomore, but I stood out in every way.
"I'm going to be stuck in a room full of people who have made my life hell, while they all try to outdo one another by having seizures on the dance floor. And chances are the chaperones are going to lock themselves in a janitor's closet to get the after party started early."
"Then why are we here?"
I sighed. How to explain it? Her family was so different from mine it would be hard for her to understand. It wasn't that they didn't have expectations when it came to her—it was more like they didn't have expectations of anything normal.
When Astrid got caught causing mischief her parents don't give her THE LOOK—and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about—she gets something akin to pride. Me? I get the look so much from my mother that it's not funny. And most of the time it's not look everyone else gets. For me it's not like she's mad, it's like she's worried. I can see it in her eyes –the fear that something is fundamentally wrong with me; that their decision to allow me to skip so many grades has robed me of something important for my social skills.
"I see." She said. At times like this, I'm glad she can just read my mind; it makes things easier when I can't quite find the words for something. I know she sympathizes with me but I don't think she would ever really be able to empathize.
"Why don't you be a gentleman and go get us some punch before the older kids manage to add copious amounts of alcohol to the mixture," she suggested, giving me a way out of the corner of the dance floor I had lead us too.
The one good thing about being so small is that it made it quite easy to work my way to the front of the line. No one would say anything; all the girls thought I was cute in the same condescending way as puppies and kittens. All I had to do was bat my baby blues and earnestly explain to them that I was getting some for my date, and they wouldn't let their jerk-ass dates touch me.
Apparently you couldn't hang out with one of the world's master manipulators without picking up a thing or two.
By the time I got back, Astrid was surrounded by what had to be the entire football team trying to hit on her (am I the only one seeing a pattern here?). I was kind of embarrassed just listing to them and yet I stayed hidden behind one of the over decorated pillars that encircled the ballroom. Whatever Astrid was up to was bound to be more entertaining than the pop music flavor of the moment the school hired to play.
"Want to dance? I got some great moves," the quarterback asked, and I almost died laughing. He couldn't be talking about on the dance floor—he looked like an epileptic fish out of water—and he couldn't be talking about on the field, unless you counted slapping his teammates' asses as they walked past. Despite my age, I wasn't naive. I knew what he was really talking about, and from what I heard from the girls by the punch bowl, he really didn't have much room to brag.
"I don't think my family would like it if I went dancing with someone they didn't approve of." She rubbed her upper arms and looked around coyly. So she was playing the naive, innocent girl card. This would be interesting.
I was sure this show was for me; she was trying to make my hell a little more fun by mentally torturing my tormenters. And the best part was that they had no clue what was going on.
"I'll protect you, sugar." The QB was leaning against the wall and I was having a Greece flashback. No doubt he was a greecer in another life.
"Oh would you?" she asked in her best impression of the classic snow white voice. I about died laughing. That should have been their first clue that she was just playing with them, like a cat giving a rat just enough room to run around but no real hope for escape.
"Yeah baby, anything for you."
"Are you sure? My family can be really scary sometimes, and all together they have enough weapons to make the NRA jealous. Besides," she said, her voice dropping any pretense of innocence and gaining her trademark combination of cruelty and confidence, "I can't dance with you; I'm waiting for the right partner."
That was my cue to show myself.
"Hey Astrid, I got our drinks."
The football players stared at me in shock. I guess they didn't understand how I could get a girl like Astrid to come with me to prom. And that was why they could never be anything more to her than a cheap McDonalds toy; something to play with while there was nothing better to do and then throw away, without so much as a thought.
"You're here with him?" The quarterback asked, incredulous, "Aren't you a little young to be robbing the cradle?"
"I am actually a lot closer to his age than yours, so I guess that would make you the one robbing the cradle," she smirked than covered her mouth with her hand and coyly batted her eyelashes as if embarrassed, "I mean attempted to."
Before anyone could say anything in retaliation, Astrid grabbed my arm and all but drug me to the other corner of the atrium where we would have a bit more privacy.
"How much do you like these people?" I could tell her patients were wearing thin. She had little tolerance for fools and would get dangerous if she didn't cause a little havoc soon.
"Not much. Just don't kill them," I didn't even attempt to sound weary, she would see through the ruse too easily—it would be nothing but a waste of time.
"Don't eat or drink anything else for the remainder of the night, unless I provide it," she warned.
"You got it." I didn't need to be told twice.
"Is that all you're going to do, Astrid? I'm disappointed in you," a voice said an inch from my ear, causing me to jump a mile in the air and thank God that no one could really see us from this angle.
"Go away Severus, you weren't invited." Astrid pouted at her brother.
Those two had a very odd love/hate kind of relationship. Half the time I was afraid they were going to kill each other, yet they seemed to be the only ones allowed to do any harm. And as crazy scary as it was when those two were at each other's throats, it was a hundred times worse when they managed to work together. I don't know if that was a sibling thing or just a them thing. Either way, no one was going to leave here unscathed.
Don't laugh, but it took me a moment to recognize Sev, even though I had practically been raised with him.
Sev had manipulated his appearance so that he looked at least five or six years older than he really was—more than old enough to fit in around here. His hair was shorter and lighter than his father's but other than that they could have been twins, especially since Asgardians (or Jotunn) age extremely slow once they have reached a certain point.
"But dear sister, you left this at home," he said, handing a sheet of computer paper to her. Astrid took it and quickly read the words.
"I did no such thing! You ought to be flogged in the street for even daring to insinuate that I would have to go to the internet for pranks."
You could always tell when they had been to Asgard recently; they talked annoyingly formal for weeks after.
Sev rolled his eyes. Both he and I knew she was lying; even Loki had admitted once or twice to being impressed with the jokes humans sometimes played on each other (have you seen the video of the guy who thought he won the lottery and then went on to dump his girlfriend and quit his job, only to find out that his friends had tvoed an earlier drawing? I rest my case).
"There is nothing wrong with requiring a little assistance on the occasion. Besides, I wanted to come and offer my assistance. Call it a peace offering for the incident in February. Not that it was my fault, of course. Had you not attempted to kill me, than I would not have been forced to pretend to be dead."
Astrid was fuming. The February incident had been a prank gone horribly wrong, in fact it went so wrong that Loki felt it necessary to bind both of their powers for a week. And let's just say that punishment is a word rarely heard in their household. Trust me it wasn't pretty.
"Which ones are you to attempt?" she said trying to hide her curiosity behind haughtiness.
"All of them."
Astrid's head snapped up in surprise and what could only be impression. The list had to be a page full of bulleted ideas and knowing Sev, they were going to be good.
Sev was like the Marilyn Munster of the family –the white sheep amongst the fleet of black. His character was usually a bit more open and welcoming than most of his family, and he preferred the blunt and harsh truth to lies. He didn't use magic as frivolously as his father and sister despite having the same amount of talent, and he didn't usually play practical jokes, but when he did they were impressively cruel (wow, is it just me or did that sound like a 10's beer commercial? Anyways… let's get back on track).
Whatever he was planning to placate his sister was bound to be epic.
"Tell me you at least have a camera?" I asked.
"Several. All at various locations and angles. We won't miss a thing, and many of the pieces are already in place. We just have to watch the pandemonium unfold." He held up three fingers, "The show should begin in three…two…one…"
On one he pointed to the door and as if on cue the door opened. In walked the closest thing the school had to my people—the nerds. These were the guys that passed notes in some odd form of a role playing game instead of paying attention in class and spent their lunch breaks sharing videogame cheat codes.
Just as they walked through the door the entire room went silent. They had a girl on each arm and—I'm not trying to be judgmental here, just honest—the girls were way out of their league, and I knew instantly where this was going to end: the other guys would ogle the prettier girls all night and get into monster trouble with their own dates.
The girls looked like every models wet dream; perfect skin, hair, and all that other stuff guys never realize they actually pay attention to.
They were either very high priced hookers or—
"There not real," Sev said. I hope I was just being obvious because Astrid was the only one allowed to read my mind, and I really didn't want to have to tell Sev off while he was in the middle of turning my prom night into the best night of my life. Wait… I didn't mean for that to be as dirty as it sounded.
"Gollum's? Impressive." Astrid muttered.
"Where did you get their looks?" I asked. No one looked like that outside of movies or pornos. Not that I had ever seen one. Only twelve, remember?
"I may have gotten the inspiration for out of a series of periodicals that, by Midgarian standards, I am much too young to legally have access to."
It took me a second to figure out what he was saying. When they did this whole formal talk shit it wasn't always obvious what they were getting at.
"What were you doing looking at nudie magazines?" I asked, slightly incredulous.
I hadn't meant to leave Sev open to attack like that, but with his sister in the room, there was no way she was going to miss an opportunity to make fun of him.
"He was probably researching things to if his lady love ever recuperates his feelings. He's wasting his time. She won't. "
"What are you talking about?" Sev asked, trying just a little too hard to keep his voice level and the light blush from spreading over his face.
"Oh please Severus, I don't even have to read your mind. You are not as talented at keeping your secrets as you would like to believe. The little crush you have on lady Sif has always been written all over your face. But do not fret brother dear, I doubt neither she nor father has realized your attraction." There was a subtle threat hidden beneath her words. She was telling him that she had the perfect black mail material against him.
"What?" I asked flabbergasted. That was so wrong on so many levels.
"Why do you think he has been working out with you?" Her face was twisted into a small, cruel grin as she asked. A part of me was a little hurt. I had always though he was just being a good friend, but I guess you can never get mad at them for having an alterior motive—it's just in their blood.
"Er… because he doesn't want me to get beat up anymore?" I guessed. It had always seemed the obvious answer.
"No… it's because Lady Sif likes big, strong men. And well, he's lacking in that particular department."
"But wasn't she one of your dad's friends growing up?" That was the creepiest part of all this, and what made it Twilight level wrong. "That's practically MILF territory without the M!"
"I do believe the correct term is Cougar," Astrid supplied enjoying Sev's squirming just a little too much.
"No," I corrected, "Cougar would be if SHE liked HIM. If it's the other way around I think their called cubs."
He had been a good about keeping his mouth shut—he knew that when his sister got ahold of a bone, it was best just to let her chew until it was done and over with. Reacting would just give her more meat.
"There is nothing wrong with a large age gap in a relationship. The age of my parents differs by over a millennium."
"Dude, I'm not making fun of you because of the age difference," I said through a sore face. Astrid was laughing as well—I think the fact that it was me doing the teasing made it all the funnier to her. "I'm making fun of you because she used to babysit you. She used to change your shitty dippers. Something is not right here."
"Well, at least she has already seen the goods and knows if they are worth her time if Severus ever gets up the courage to announce the truth," she quipped.
Astrid and I both almost died laughing again.
"Astrid?" Sev asked quietly and calmly as if he were merely asking about the weather.
"Yes, cub?" we cracked up again. He wasn't going to live this one down any time soon. Hell, knowing Astrid he wasn't going to live it down ever.
"You do realize that I have an eternity to find a suitable way to kill you, right? And that with the right planning, mother and father would never know."
"Yes, Severus, I know this." All the laughter drained out of Astrid's face. She was completely sober as she answered and there was an odd note to her voice that I couldn't completely read. I guess an eternity with Sev was a terrifying though even for her.
I could partially taste the tension in our little corner of the room, so I decided the best thing to do was change the subject. And quickly.
"So what were you saying about the prank?" I asked him. Both siblings could see right through me but neither of them said anything about it. I guess they welcomed the change of subject.
"Ah yes," he said and pointed over to the band geeks (not the nerds who brought the hookers—stay with me here people). One of them was holding up a pair of tinny red silk panties like it was some sort of trophy.
"He is currently regaling his friends with the account of his torrid tryst with the prom queen in the locker room just moments ago and how she presented him with that token to prove to him just how attractive she finds boys who can blow a tuba."
I looked Sev dead in the eye. "They're not really hers are they?" Did I really have to ask? Sev raised a single eyebrow. I guess not, but I didn't ask anymore. I probably didn't want to know the just what those golems were capable of.
After that, Cassidy became a lot more popular with the band boys.
Next, Sev snapped his fingers and a single condom appeared in front of each place setting on the many tables that dotted the outside of the dance floor. Although some found it hilarious, there was the echo of several guys getting smacked.
"This is epic," I said through gasping breath.
"This is not even half done." Oh shit.
Sev's finger moved to the next attraction with all the fluidity and dexterity of a conductor.
The band playing was one of the more popular mainstream bands so I really couldn't help but know the lyrics to their songs. It took me a second to realize why Sev had pointed to them next. Although the tone was the same, they weren't singing the version they played on the radio.
"Are they drugged?"
"They really should be careful when accepting gifts from fans. There are some mentally disturbed people in this world."
"Don't I know it." I muttered; I was standing next to two of the most disturbed of them right now.
Suddenly Cassidy's voice range out in a shrill scream. She was standing next to her boyfriend, Aaron, who just so happened to be the football team's quarter back (and the greecer want to be who tried to pick up Astrid—but that doesn't really matter).
"You gay motherfucker! I should have known!" she screamed, pushing him back towards the dance floor but I was sure dancing was the last thing on her mind right now.
I looked at Sev for an explanation.
"She has just received a text message from her boyfriend that was intended for the captain of the basketball team. It detailed just how good Aaron thought he looked in the lingerie Cassidy had accidentally left at his house. Needless to say she was not pleased. Poor dear."
This was another instance where I had to really think about what he was saying.
"The captain of the basketball team is a guy."
"Oh Howard, that doesn't seem to be much of a determent this day in age," Astrid managed to say between gasps of air. She was laughing so hard that tears were welling in her eyes, and a part of me was really beginning to wonder why I put up with them. I could go from being her back up to being her scapegoat so fast I had whiplash.
I rolled my eyes. "I guess not."
"Come," Astrid said, pulling on my arm, "the entire point of this little social gathering is to dance, is it not?"
"Errr… no, that's just what they tell the adults." I locked my knees and refused to move. It would be no use to explain the real reasons behind the hellish rite of passage known as prom. She wouldn't understand—or perhaps it would be more truthful to say she wouldn't care—about the girl's obsession with being able to outdo each other, and the guy's desperate attempts to get onto the horizontal dance floor with a significantly less clothed partner.
"Do you not know how to dance?" she asked her voice almost sweet and genuine. Almost. "I was under the impression that your mother taught you."
Actually it was my dad, but still that wasn't the issue.
"You can stand on my feet if you wish." Sev snickered at his sister's words, and I wanted to hit him. Astrid had more than a few inches on me—I hadn't hit my growth spurt yet and she was almost done with hers. I knew that no matter how good of a dancer I was (and I wasn't), if we tried to dance, she would turn my feet to mush with those death traps she called shoes.
She gave my arm a little tug.
"No, defiantly not. I refuse." I said literally stomping my foot. I knew that nothing she could say or do would get me onto the dance floor.
"Please?" she said giving a little pout.
And that was all she had to do to get me on the dance floor swaying in time with the music with my own baby amazon goddess.
I wouldn't admit it then, but she had me whipped (you would never guess—would you?). Or more likely she had me trained. Guess that's what happens when you and your best friend fall in—
Wait. Scratch that. I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Way too far.
You know how in movies there are always those balloons that fall gently to the floor like snowflakes during that one slow song, and everyone just seems to be able to sweep them out of there way as they gracefully glide across the dance floor? Well, let's just say something like that was just too good an opportunity for Astrid (or maybe it was Sev—I don't really know) to pass up.
If the balloons were booby trapped the normal way, than they would have fell a lot faster. But for that one brief second between when they were released and when they hit the ground it was just like in the movies.
The band stopped playing as the screams started, but we didn't stop dancing. We just stood there swaying to a phantom song as everyone scurried out of the hall trying to escape the plethora of pest Astrid had unleashed. But they didn't bother me. I knew Astrid well enough to know that the snakes weren't poisonous—or at least lethal.
"'Come on," she whispered in my ear, "This place isn't fun anymore."
In an instant we were back at my house with Sev not too far behind us.
My dad and Loki looked up from the chessboard. Dad didn't really seem surprised that we were back early and Astrid's dad—well, he just looked slightly expectant.
"Did you enjoy the social engagement?" Loki asked and I got the distinct impression that he already knew. He probably had a double there the entire time trying to make sure I didn't try to take advantage of his little ice princess (like I could even if I wanted to—Astrid can more than handle herself).
"Damn kid, you are kind of missing the point of prom if you're back this early," dad said as he took Loki's bishop.
"But Uncle Tony, we've already had our fun." The words were innocent enough but she put just enough inflection in her voice that screamed innuendo. Loki's face twitched but he didn't say anything despite, of perhaps because of, Sev cracking up. Apparently, sexual innuendo kind of lost it's fun for the god of mischief when it was about his daughter.
I don't know why I said it and, if Loki hadn't practically be my uncle (no incest jokes here guys—Astrid and I aren't actually related no matter what we call each other's parents) I probably would have been disintegrated on the spot for it, but I guess I had been hanging out with Astrid and Sev too long. They were a bit of a bad influence. Just a bit.
"Don't worry we got it all on camera. After all, everything is better with visuals." Dad started rolling and Sev looked like he was going to piss himself.
Loki just stared at me for a moment before whispering dangerously low, "Indeed it is."
Trying to break the tension I turned to Astrid, "So why did you tell me not to drink the punch?"
"Oh that. I put laxatives in it."
"Oh…" What else could I say?
"And covered the toilet seats in cellophane." Her tone was so conversational I really didn't know how to respond. To her the humiliation of dozens (no all of which were actually cruel to me) was just a game. She felt no pity and showed no remorse.
But she was my best friend and so I had to accept the bad (or morally ambiguous) along with the good. I knew that to accept her for everything that she was, meant I had to take whatever she did in stride.
"Naturally."
