Sorry I took so long to get this up! Hopefully it is worth the wait. Leave a review and let me know what your favorite part is so far. Enjoy!
Chapter 4: Prom And Other Problems
Monday, April 16th, 1962
I sat in the diner waiting for Susan. This was the night I would end things. I had taken the weekend to think things over. I did like her, but I couldn't see a future with her. The deep connection just wasn't there. I didn't want to chase a shallow high school relationship that would die soon anyway due to graduation. How should I do it? You don't want to hurt her. It's not you, it's me? Too cliché. It's not fair of me to tie you down? Too patronizing. I don't like you anymore? Too dishonest. I sighed. How am I gonna do this? I had broken up with someone before, but she had given me an easily justifiable reason. Susan hadn't. It really was me, not her. I pulled out my watch and checked the time. She was supposed to meet me here any minute. I tried to put on my best happy face as she walked in.
"Hi, Ken!" Susan greeted me.
"Susan! I was beginning to wonder if you stood me up!" I joked, trying to ease my own tension. She laughed and sat down across from me. Why does she have to look especially pretty tonight?
"I would never dream of it! You ordered yet?"
"No, I was afraid the food would get cold while I waited on you." My stomach is in too many knots to eat anyway.
"Wanna split a milkshake for dessert?" she asked, smiling.
"Sure-" I started, then corrected myself, "Whatever." I would not make this harder. Be honest, Ken. Don't give the impression you're still interested. I tried to remember that as we ate our meal. I listened quietly to her talk about the yearbook, prom, her cat's latest antics, and whatever else was going on in her life. I didn't catch many details of what she was saying though. I was too distracted figuring out how I was going to break up with her. I looked across the table. There she was, eating her sandwich, telling me about what was important to her. She was sitting there, oblivious to the fact that I was about to dump her. Seems cruel of me. Maybe I could wai- No! Just do it!
"Hello? Ken? Are you listening? I asked you a question."
"What? Oh...uh... yeah. Sorry." What was the question?
"I asked what color tie you're wearing on Friday? You know, for the prom?" Susan asked, looking at me with concern.
"I...don't know." I wasn't sure how to answer it. I won't be wearing any color tie, because I'm not going. Why? Because we're not going to date anymore. Why can't I just say it out loud and get it over with?
"My dress is pink if that helps. It's less than a week away. Don't you think it's time?"
"I know. Uh...you done?" I asked gesturing to her plate. She nodded. I felt suffocated in the diner. It wasn't busy, but it felt too claustrophobic to do it here. Here or elsewhere, it's still going to be unpleasant. Get over it already!
We walked outside and down the street to a small park. She grabbed my hand as we walked. Why does she have to do that? I wanted to push her hand away and tell her the real reason I'd wanted to see her tonight. But I still hadn't worked up the courage. So, I wrapped my fingers around hers and faked another grin. She led me to a bench.
"Let's sit for a while," she suggested. I tried not to sit too close.
"Susan," I began. "I...uh.." I couldn't finish. I looked over at her, sitting as close to me as she could get, wearing that purple sweater she looked amazing in. How can I do this to her? I thought miserably. She leaned in for a kiss. I accepted it, knowing I shouldn't have. Why does she have to look so good tonight? Why did she have to kiss me? She's so pretty. I really wanted to kiss her again. I cursed my hormones. What's your problem? Sure, you'll miss all the hand holding, the kissing, the having someone. But you know it's not her you'll miss.It had to be now.
"I love you," she whispered. I internally cringed.
Why did she have to say that? I stared at my shoes, trying to decide what to do. I could say it back, but that would be a lie. I liked her. I didn't love her. I knew that. Then why is this hard? Just get it out there!
"Susan, listen. I t-think you're wonderful. But, I don't t-think this is going to w-work," I stuttered. I felt her recoil. There. Done. Now man up and deal with it!
"What?"
"You and me. We're both leaving in a few months and I don't think it's fair to kid ourselves," I explained, making an effort to keep my voice in check.
"We can deal with that when time comes! Ken, I'm sorry if I said I love you too soon. I understand if you're not ready. I know you wanted to take things slow-"
"Susan, no. It's not that," I interrupted. "I was planning to have this conversation long before you said that." That came out wrong.
"Really? You planned this? All through dinner, the walk, that kiss? You were playing me?" she sounded confused, with a hint of anger seeping through.
"No! I didn't mean to anyway! I just didn't want to hurt you!" I suddenly felt defensive. I'm not being unreasonable, am I?
"Fine job you did of that! What's your problem?" I had asked myself that question several times tonight. She was full on upset now. So was I. This was not going according to plan. All of my intentions and per-rehearsed lines were now carelessly abandoned.
"Look, to be honest, I don't know what my future is, but I know you're not in it!" I blurted out.
"Why did you even bother to ask me out again?" She was clearly hurt, angry tears streaming down her face. I ignored it. I was too emotional.
"Would you have preferred I dump you over the phone?" I almost yelled. I immediately regretted it.
"You're an insensitive, idiotic fool, Ken Hutchinson!" She shot back. I felt as if I'd been slapped across the face.
"I'm...s-sorry. I didn't mea-"
"I doubt that!" Susan spat, storming off into the growing darkness.
I sat back down onto the bench and put my head in my hands. Oh, what have you done now, Kenny?
Tuesday, April 17th, 1962
I kept my head down as I walked out of school. I didn't want to accidentally see Susan. I felt terrible about how things had turned out last night. I really hadn't meant to hurt her. I had let my emotions get the best of me. Taken my frustrations about everything else out on her. It wasn't fair of me, but I couldn't take it back now.
"Hutch! Wait up!" Jack called as he ran to catch up to me.
"Hey, Jack." I unlocked my car.
"I heard you broke up with Susan."
"So?"
"Why? Are you crazy?"
"Jack, I really don't wanna talk about it. Especially here." I got in the car. Jack went around to the passenger side and got in.
"Okay, then let's go somewhere else," he suggested.
"Fine. But why do you care?"
"Because there's something clearly wrong with you! You don't just dump a perfectly nice girl for no good reason!"
"I had a good reason!"
"Why?"
"It just wasn't going to work, okay! She's fine, I just don't need a relationship right now. Can't you understand that?"
"Hutch, I will never understand why you're so finicky sometimes. You're smart about a lot of things, but women ain't one of them. If you did have to dump her, you could have at least waited until after Friday! Now she's the only girl in the senior class without a date to the prom!" Jack lectured me.
"There's plenty of guys that would love to go with her. One of them will ask her."
"Does that make humiliating her right?"
"What do you want me to do, Jack?" I asked him, my tone sharper than necessary. He has a point.
"Sorry!" Jack threw his hands in the air. "Excuse me for trying to do you a favor by telling you when you're being an-"
"Stop it! I broke up with her. It's done. It doesn't matter and neither does the prom. Susan will get over it. I appreciate your concern, but I don't really think it's a huge deal."
"All right. But who are you gonna take to Prom instead?"
"Nobody! I'm staying home."
"Oh, come on! Don't weasel out of it this time! It's literally the last chance you'll have!"
"It's my right to throw that chance away. Besides, I have to work on my speech for graduation."
"You still haven't started?"
"No. Now will you get out of my car so I can go home?"
"Sure. You still wanna go see that movie later?" he asked. It was his way of asking if I was mad at him. I wasn't. Jack was just trying to be my friend, and I couldn't blame him for that.
"Absolutely. Meet you there around six?"
Thursday, April 19th, 1962
I stared at the blank page in front of me. I had been sitting here for an hour and nothing yet had come to mind for my speech. I looked around my room, searching for inspiration. My eyes fell on my guitar. Maybe I could just write a song instead of a speech, I thought jokingly. I got up from my desk and grabbed the instrument. My grandfather and I had found it at a yard sale a few years ago. It was one of the last things he had bought me before he passed away. Music was one of the few things in life that hadn't changed since then. At least it still made sense. I glanced out the window. It was a beautiful day, and it seemed a shame to stay indoors.
I took the guitar outside to the back yard, along with a notebook I kept of my attempts at songwriting. I took a deep breath of fresh air and sat down on the wooden swing hanging from the big tree in the corner of the yard. Dad had hung it up long before I was born, in hopes that his future children would play on it. Kirsten and I had spent hours on it and I still loved it, even now. I swung slightly as I played a few chords. I could hear the birds chirping in the trees, adding another melody to mine. I began to sing too. I sang for the squirrel running across the lawn and for the birds above me. I sang for myself. I would never sing in public, but I felt safe here. I was in my own little world. I began to play something I had written just after my grandfather died. It was my favorite of all the ones I'd ever written. I lost myself in the chords, the lyrics, and the feeling it gave me.
I was about to start verse two, when I heard an odd sound from behind the hedge that separated our corner of the yard from the Blake's. I stopped singing. Is somebody else out here? I wondered, embarrassed that they might have heard me. I got up and leaned my guitar against the tree. I listened closely to see if I could pick up on it again. There it is! Sounds like...crying? I walked around the hedge, into the Blake's yard. There was Nancy, sitting on the ground, her knees tucked into her chest. She was crying. Poor Nancy. I knelt down beside her. If she noticed my presence, she didn't acknowledge it.
"You all right?" I asked quietly. Stupid question, dummy. Nancy's shoulders shook. I shifted to sit down next to her.
"No." Her voice was tiny. I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side. My heart hurt for her. She sounded so sad. I had seen Nancy cry before, but usually it was because of a skinned knee, a lost toy, or something similarly inconsequential. The only other time I had seen Nancy cry was when her father had died. This wasn't as anguished as that, but I still hated to see her in pain.
"What happened, honey?" I asked once she seemed to calm down a bit. I felt her shiver.
"It's dumb."
"No, it's not. And even if it is, that's okay. I get upset about all sorts of dumb stuff." I squeezed her shoulder.
"A boy. Can you believe that, Ken? I'm crying over a stupid boy!" Nancy tried to sound tough, but her tone betrayed her. This was bothering her more than she wanted to let on.
"Tell me about it?"
"Jimmy. He was supposed to take me to Prom, but-" her voice broke.
"But now he's not," I finished for her. She nodded. "Why?" I hoped I wasn't pushing her too much.
"He decided he'd rather go with Janie."
"Janie, as in your best friend since kindergarten, Janie?"
"Yeah. And what's worse, she knew I liked him! She's known for years, and she still decided to accept his invitation. She knew he and I were supposed to go together! She didn't care!"
"I'm sorry, Nancy. That's awful." I didn't know what else to say. This was something I couldn't fix for her.
"I can't believe they would betray me like that! I'm so disappointed. I might as well return my dresses." Nancy sighed heavily, trying to stop more tears from falling.
"You'll have other chances to go to Prom. And Jimmy? You can do better than him. That boy failed the sit up test in seventh grade! And Janie's gonna regret treating you like that," I said, trying to make her feel better. I could detect a grin forming at the corners of her mouth. It quickly disappeared.
"I know that, it's just...I really wanted to go this time. I had my heart set on it, you know?" Nancy looked into my eyes, hers communicating the sadness her words couldn't. I pulled her in for a hug.
"I understand. I'm so sorry," I whispered. She hugged me back. The last time we had hugged was after her dad's funeral. I could feel her distress slowly melting away. When the hug ended, she didn't look like she was in danger of crying anymore.
"Thank you, Ken." She smiled at me. I gave her one in return.
"Hey, what are friends for?"
"What were you playing earlier? Before you came over here."
"Oh, that? Just a little s-something I wrote." I flashed her a goofy smile. So, she did hear me! I could feel my cheeks flush.
"It sounded nice. I liked the words. They were just the right amount of sad."
"I didn't think anyone was listening..."
"Well, they would listen! You're getting pretty good with that guitar of yours. Not to mention you have a great voice. You should consider letting someone besides yourself hear it."
"Maybe I'll think about it." I stood up and helped Nancy to her feet. She started for her backdoor.
"Promise?" she asked playfully, turning around to look me in the eye. She knew all about my tendency to be non-committal.
"Sea Scout's honor!" I gave her a salute. She laughed. It felt good to see her happy again.
That night at supper, Dad was determined to interrogate me.
"Have you heard back from the schools you applied to, Ken?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Well?"
"What?" I knew exactly what.
"Have you picked one?"
"No," I answered, stabbing a piece of meatloaf. I hated meatloaf.
"Why not?"
"It's a hard choice." I don't know! Leave me alone about it!
"You need to select one and get properly enrolled. You'll also need to make arrangements for your living situation."
"Dad, it's not until fall. I don't think I have to worry about my living arrangements quite yet." I looked over at Kirsten, trying to send her a telepathic signal to save me by interrupting. She was too preoccupied with her green beans.
"You can't keep putting this off, son. You're going to wait too long on something too important one day. You'll miss your opportunity."
"Whatever," I mumbled. I hate where this conversation is going almost as much as I hate meatloaf.I glanced over at Mom. Please, Mom. Ask me if I took out the trash or something!
"What was that?" Dad asked, giving me a chance to escape. I stupidly didn't take it. I remembered the conversation that I had overheard. I knew what he and Mom thought about me.
"I said, whatever." One look at Dad's face told me that was the wrong move. I did not want to have this conversation again. We'd been going around in circles for months, him asking if I had done things and me always saying "not yet". I could usually end it before things got unpleasant, but I had a feeling my remark had sealed my fate. My temper was starting to rise.
"Don't whatever me, young man! You need to take some responsibility! You've had all year to work on this and you've made almost no progress! Despite constant advisement and reminders from your teachers and family you still continue to ignore it!" I could feel my anger boiling now.
"Maybe that's the problem! Maybe I don't need constant advisement! I'm sick of everyone telling me how to run my own life! I'm not a baby anymore!" I stood up, almost knocking over my chair.
"Kenneth! Sit down!" Dad commanded. I obeyed. He almost never used my full name, unless he meant business. Mom shot me her best warning look, temporarily killing my desire to say something snotty. Kirsten pretended to be even more interested in her green beans.
"Yes, sir," I managed, staring down at the wretched meatloaf. This day was going decently well before supper, I lamented.
"Angry outbursts will not be tolerated in this house."
"Sorry," I mumbled, ashamed that I'd lost my temper.
"You know better. Now, finish your supper and go to your room for the evening," Dad instructed.
"Sure, send me to my room. Like I'm five or something," I grumbled. Mom glared at me.
"Kenneth, that's quite enough! Do as your father says!" she ordered me.
The Kenneth count was up to two. I'd really done it now. Why not go for three?
"Fine, I'll go to my room! At least then I won't have to listen to anymore of his lectures." I shoved a bite of the deplorable meatloaf into my mouth.
"Kenneth! Upstairs! Now!" Dad commanded sternly. I could tell he was furious with me, but he refused to let it out. That wasn't Dad's style. I pushed in my chair slowly and retreated to my room.
It was hours later when I heard a knock on my door. I had been sitting in bed reading and had cooled off considerably since supper.
"Ken?" I heard Mom's voice through the door.
"Come in." I set my book down. She sat on the side of my bed.
"I want to talk to you."
"About earlier?" I asked, already knowing full well. She nodded. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have acted like that." I hoped she would accept my apology and leave. No such luck. That wasn't her style.
"Thank you." She smiled slightly. "Your father only wants what's best for you. He's a driven man. He doesn't understand why you tend to hesitate sometimes."
"We used to get along, me and Dad. Why did he change?"
"He hasn't. You've just grown old enough to have your own opinions," she explained.
She's right, Ithought.I'd never second guessed him before.I had taken for granted that my dad knew everything. Now that I'm old enough to disagree, it gets complicated.
"I guess."
"Ken, honey. He wants what's best for you. He wants to see you grow into a good, successful young man." I knew it was true. It wasn't really Dad I was mad at.
"I just hate having to make all these big decisions," I admitted.
"Your father and I love you very much. You know that, right?" She laid a hand on my blanketed knee.
"Yeah," I answered, unable to look her in the eye.
"No matter what, you'll always be my baby. My little one." She smiled and squeezed my knee. I had to stop myself from getting emotional.
"Thanks, Mama. I love you too." I hadn't called her Mama in years, but I felt like a child again. She smiled and I noticed tears in her eyes. I had to force my own not to fall. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged her back, relishing the feeling. I felt her press a kiss to my temple just before she let me go.
Eventually, she left my room. I felt better. I hadn't thought about how she must feel about this. I was her youngest, her baby son. Now I was probably going to move away from her. That's gotta hurt.Oh, Mama. I'll miss her…
Friday, April 20th, 1962
Today was Prom. Not that it mattered, since I wasn't going. Jack had been talking my ear off most of the way to school about how awesome it would be.
"Hutch, you have to come tonight!"
"I don't have a date, Jack."
"So, go stag!"
"I'm not a deer."
"You know what I mean! Don't be like that, Hutchinson."
"I'm beginning to regret giving you a ride this morning," I mumbled.
"I told you, my car's getting detailed so I can pick up Heather in style!"
"I think you just told me that so you could try to force me to leave my house this evening."
"Maybe. I am getting my car detailed though, no lie!"
"Will you be quiet if I promise to think about it?"
"Yes!"
"Fine, I'll think about it." I had no intention of thinking about it. I'm staying home tonight and making popcorn. Then, I'll waste the evening in front of the television.
After school, I dropped Jack off to pick up his car and headed home. My teachers hadn't assigned homework this weekend, figuring no one would do it if they did. I was grateful for the break, even if I didn't need the evening off. I went to the backyard and started to swing. I stayed out there for over an hour, just swinging and thinking.
When I finally stopped, I pulled out my watch. 4:55. Prom starts in about an hour. Not that I care. I went inside in search of some water. Kirsten was in the kitchen, fixing herself a plate of mashed potatoes and nothing else.
"Study fuel," she explained.
"Whatever you say. Wanna eat junk and watch TV later?"
"That's how you plan to spend prom night? With your sister, eating junk food in front of the TV?"
"Yep. Is my sister interested?" I asked.
"Sure, why not? But only if we make pizza first."
"Deal."
I spent the next half hour playing guitar in my room while Kirsten studied. My gaze fell on the prom tickets I'd purchased weeks ago. They had been lying on my dresser ever since. What a waste of money. Too bad they won't get used. I picked up my notebook of songs and flipped to a random page. It was the song I had played in the back yard the other day, the one Nancy and heard. I stared at the page for a long minute. I glanced at the clock, put my guitar away and went downstairs. I went outside and jogged across the front yard to the Blake's. I knocked on the door and waited, hoping I wasn't making a mistake. Mrs. Blake opened the door.
"Ken! What a nice surprise! Would you like to come in and join us for dinner?" she offered.
"No thank you. Can I talk to Nancy really quick though?"
"Of course!" she answered as Nancy appeared behind her.
"Hi Ken! What's up?" Nancy asked. Mrs. Blake headed back to the kitchen.
"Uh...did you return your dresses yet?"
"No, why?" she answered, clearly confused.
"Do you still want to go to Prom?"
"Well, yes, but I thought I explained-"
"Do you wanna...um...do you want to...uh...go? Like, with me? Together?" I dug the toe of my sneaker into her front step, unable to make eye contact. Could you have asked her anymore awkwardly?
"You mean it?" I could hear the smile in her voice. I looked up so I could see it too. I nodded. She smiled bigger. "I'd love to! But it starts at six, we'll be late."
"We'll be even later if you don't go get ready," I teased, then turned to go.
"Give me twenty minutes. Which dress?" she called after me. I shrugged.
"Surprise me!"
I ran back home and bounded up the stairs to Kirsten's room. I was going to need her help if I was going to do this.
"Kirsten!" I yelled, out of breath.
"Whoa there, what's going on?" she questioned, turning around in her desk chair.
"I need a rain check on tonight."
"Because?"
"I'm going to Prom with Nancy and I need your help."
"When did you decide this? Are you two-"
"Like ten minutes ago? And yes. I mean no. Uh...I'm not sure."
"Sounds well thought out." Kirsten smirked.
"It wasn't. I just got the idea and ran with it. Anyway, I have to leave in like five minutes and I...uh, need your input." She looked skeptical. "You know, as a woman." Wow, that sounded mildly pathetic.
"Okay then...What's the issue, Kenny?"
"What do I do? I've never been to one of these things."
"Dance? Have a good time? Don't do anything stupid? You need to be more specific."
"What do I do to get ready?"
"First, change. What color is her dress?" she asked as she practically dragged me by the arm to my room.
"Light blue. Or purple. Maybe green?" Why can't I remember? It was barely a week ago!
"Wear your light blue shirt. Matches your eyes. And a black tie. That should go with any of those well enough." I dug around in my closet for my tie collection. I located three I didn't recall ever seeing before. I found one hand me down from Dad and the two I actually wore sometimes.
"None of these are black," I informed her.
"No kidding, Holmes. Wear the brown one you wear to everything then." I grabbed my suit, a brown belt and brown shoes and threw everything on my bed.
"Why is every accessory you own brown?" Kirsten mumbled. "Hurry up and change. I'm going to get my keys."
"I can drive myself."
"Sure, but you can't take Nancy in your car. You want to get there, don't you? You're already going to be a good half hour late." Kirsten had a point.
I changed as fast as I could and ran downstairs. Kirsten was waiting, keys in hand. She handed them to me.
"Scratch it and you're dead, half-pint," she said. I hope she's joking.She examined me from head to toe, then reached up to push my hair off of my forehead. "There. Now you look halfway presentable. Can't have people thinking us Hutchinson's are slobs!"
"Thanks, Kirsten. I owe you one."
"I've been bailing you out of this kind of thing for eighteen years. It's no problem. Now go!" She shoved me towards the door.
I found myself on the Blake's doorstep for the second time that evening. Nancy opened the door, looking a lot different than she had twenty minutes ago. A lot different from any time I'd ever seen her for that matter.
"I went with the blue," she told me. I nodded in approval.
"Fun but not too much fun," I commented.
"Huh? Oh!" she giggled, getting my joke. "I actually just thought it would match your eyes."
"Funny, Kirsten said I should wear this shirt for the same reason. It's like you chicks have telepathy or something."
"My mom wants a picture before we go, by the way." Mrs. Blake joined us then, as if on cue.
"You kids are so adorable! And so grown up!" she said, motioning for us to get closer. I put my arm around Nancy's waist and smiled. I hated being fussed over, but I was glad Mrs. Blake was happy.
After a bit more fussing and a couple more pictures, we were finally on our way. I still wasn't entirely sure what I was doing or why. I hate dancing. Why am I going to a dance? Am I a glutton for punishment?
"Ken, can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I glanced over at her in the passenger seat. Oh, yeah. That's why I'm doing this.
"Why'd you ask me?"
"Because I knew you wanted to go."
"No, I mean, what is this?" she asked. "How should I introduce you?"
"How do you want to introduce me?" I asked, afraid to give her a straight answer. I wanted to make this a good night for her. We could work out the details later.
"As my...friend. Is that all right?" she sounded nervous, like she was afraid I wouldn't like her answer. We weren't kids anymore. I knew what she was asking. She was my friend. I couldn't deny that the thought of something more hadn't crossed my mind once or twice, but we had practically grown up together. She was like a sister to me.
"That's fine with me, friend." I smiled, hoping to reassure her that it really was fine.
When we arrived at the school, I opened her door for her and helped her out. The parking lot was full of cars, but empty of people. I was glad we were late. I pulled out my watch. Forty-five minutes late to be exact. That gave us around two hours.
"I can't believe we're doing this!" Nancy smiled as we walked into the gym.
"Me either. I was all set to stay home tonight."
"I'm glad you didn't." Nancy found my hand and gave it a squeeze. I smiled and led her over to a table. When I returned from getting her some punch, Jack was sitting beside her.
"Ken! You made it!" He stood up and slapped me on the back. I spilled about half the punch on my shoes.
"Jack! Watch it, will you?" I set the cups on the table and gave Nancy an apologetic look. She was trying to stop herself from laughing.
"Go clean your shoes, I'll wait here," she told me.
Once I had wiped down my shoes sufficiently, I exited the bathroom and came face to face with Susan. Really? I thought. Of all the times I had to walk out, why now? We stared at each other for a long second before she spoke.
"Ken. Didn't think you were coming." Her voice was cold.
"Susan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it like that. I..." I didn't know what to say. I felt guilty.
"Is this some sort of attempt to get me back? It's not going to happen."
"No, but I was a jerk to-"
"Yeah. You were," she cut me off. She stared at me, the hurt obvious on her face. She wouldn't accept my apology. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. I was left standing there alone, feeling like an idiot, knowing she would never forgive me.
I went back to the gym to find Nancy. I tried to forget about Susan for now. I was here with Nancy. I needed to focus on her. She and Heather were talking about earrings or something while Jack was eating pretzels like there was no tomorrow. I sat down next to Nancy and grabbed a pretzel from Jack's plate. Jack shoved his plate over to me, grabbed Heather's hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.
"What did I miss?" I asked.
"Jack and Heather are Prom king and queen. Also, George McBride puked under the bleachers and Mrs. Jackson had to clean it up."
"All that? I was only gone for like five minutes." Nancy laughed and grabbed a pretzel for herself. I watched her observe the scene. She looked longingly at the couples on the dance floor. Just then, Jack came over to us.
"Hey Hutch, mind if I dance with your date?" he asked.
"Ask the lady yourself. Where'd Heather go?"
"There's a punch emergency or something. Care to dance?" He extended a hand to Nancy. She took it and spent the next three songs dancing with Jack. I watched them from my seat, fidgeting with my tie.
Stop being the worst date ever, I told myself. Jack's right, you are a stick in the mud! Nancy and Jack returned to the table, interrupting my mental pep talk.
"Boy, Nancy can dance!" Jack said. Nancy smiled at the compliment. The three of us sat there for a few minutes until Jack left to go find some cheerleader he hadn't danced with yet. I kept eating pretzels even though I was full. Nancy sat there awkwardly, waiting for me to say something.
"Hey Nancy?" I asked.
"Yes?"
"Do you wanna dance?" It won't kill you, Kenny. Probably. Just don't step on her.
"You hate dancing."
"You don't. Also, I don't want the freshmen year square dance fiasco to be my only school dance memory, so how about it?" I asked, forcing myself to meet her gaze. She nodded and grabbed both my hands.
Before I knew it, I was on the dance floor attempting to remember the steps to literally any dance man ever created. The only one that came to mind was the two step. Kirsten and I had tried to learn it from a book two summers ago. We had been awful, but managed to get the basic concept. I put one of my hands on Nancy's shoulder and took her other hand in mine. She giggled and moved the one on her shoulder to her side. A slow song started, and I tried to lead. I stepped on her in the first three seconds. Great going Hutchinson!
"Ouch!"
"Sorry!"
"You're fine! But maybe I should lead?" she offered.
"Please," I begged. We all know I can't.
Eventually, after a couple of songs, I figured out how to avoid stepping on her without constantly looking down. Then, I was able to really look at Nancy. My neighbor, friend, and now prom date. She looked beautiful. Her hair fell around her face just right, framing it perfectly. She looked so grown up. Where did the time go? I remember digging for worms in the backyard with her like it was yesterday.
"You are the most de moda, hermosa reina here," I whispered, leaning close to her ear.
"Thank you, good sir." She was beaming.
"De verdad eres el mejor danzante. Soy lo peor! Perdona mi fracaso." I whispered.
"That sounds beautiful. What's it mean?" she asked.
"You really are the best dancer. I'm the worst! Pardon my failure," I translated, smirking. Nancy slugged me in the arm.
"I thought Spanish was the language of love! Now you're hitting me? Wow, Nancy!" She laughed and pulled me closer as another slow song started. I only stepped on her once for the rest of the dance. This isn't a bad as I thought it would be. No, sir!
When we got home, I walked Nancy to her door. It was late, especially since we had made a pit stop for ice cream. With the exception of my encounter with Susan, it had been a fun evening. We walked up the steps and stood on her porch.
"I hope the ice cream comes out of your tie!" she said.
"If not, maybe I'll have to expand my tie horizons. Maybe purple and orange stripes?"
"Ew, gross!"
"Not as gross as George McBride's barf."
"Don't remind me, Ken!"
"I could describe it to you in Spanish!"
"Please don't!" We both laughed, followed by a minute of silence.
"I had a great time tonight, Nancy."
"You mean to tell me that Ken Hutchinson, the hater of dancing, superficial events, and high school hierarchy actually enjoyed himself at Prom?"
"I hate that I liked it. I did have a pretty good friend to go with though." Nancy smiled bigger than she had all evening. Her eyes sparkled with what I had to guess were tears of joy.
"Ken, thank you. For everything." She stood on her tip toes and kissed me softly on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Nancy," I whispered. Tonight's going to be a good memory, I thought as watched her disappear through her front door.
