When they reached the plaza, Richie slowed down to a crawl like all the other cars. There was little to no breeze so it was easy to convince the girls to let him put the top down. They cruised around the streets slowly, joining the parade of prom going showoffs, yelling at friends as they passed. Melanie's boyfriend's new car turned out to be a slightly used jeep. It was a nice car, Richie had to admit, but his prom ride was much nicer.
"Eat your heart out, Ms. Popular," Angie mumbled through a smile as she waved at a clearly shocked Melanie.
"I think we win," Richie said over his shoulder to Cameron.
"Thanks to the rich dude you live with," Cameron agreed. "I don't think I could get anyone to lend me a car this nice for the night."
"Think we can convince anyone it's mine?"
"Never in a million years. Unless you tell them you boosted it."
Richie laughed and turned along with the impromptu parade and headed toward the high school where the dance was being held. As they pulled into the parking lot, Richie put the roof up again pausing to make sure it closed all the way, in case it rained again. They piled out of the car, checked to make sure they had their tickets and filed toward the entrance. They checked in their coats with the chaperones that were in charge of watching over the pile of belongings and took small ticket stubs so they could reclaim their things. After handing over their prom tickets and passing the metal detector test, they were allowed into the gym, which had been decorated for the dance.
"Looks nice!" Richie yelled over the music.
"Yeah, not too shabby," Angie called back.
Richie awkwardly tried to come up with something to do as they looked around at the students that had arrived and were arriving.
"You, uh…you wanna dance?" he asked.
"Uh, sure!"
He took her hand and they made their way to the mostly empty dance floor and began dancing to Joan Jett, and not soon after they had found the beat, Boys 2 Men came on. Richie paused then tentatively reached out and put his hands on Angie's hips. She blushed a little then put her hands around his neck. He smiled at her, shyly and slowly led her around the floor as the music serenaded them. One verse into the song, he stomped on her foot.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled pushing back. "I always do that. I'm just not that good at this slow stuff.."
Angie smiled at him. "It's okay."
"Tessa's tried to teach me a million times, I almost broke her foot once…" he continued the apology.
"It's okay," she repeated, putting her arms about around his neck. "I have flat feet anyway."
He flushed and tried to find a place to look at, but kept finding himself staring at her face. She smiled at him gently each time he caught her eye.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know what's wrong with me…"
Angie smiled. "It's okay."
He made it through the rest of the dance without incident and knew exactly what moves to use for the next five songs in a row. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, though he was constantly apologizing for little mishaps, staring at certain areas, fumbling over words, and getting lost in imaginative thought. It was his imagination that was getting him in trouble. This was senior prom. And senior prom entailed many things. Stuffy, expensive clothes, hopefully decorated gyms, at least one attempt to spike the punch and lots of dancing. It was what almost traditionally came after prom that Richie was thinking about. He wasn't sure how he should go about asking, or even if Angie had any inclination to agree. Damn his libido. Too much time too close to a female and he was ready and willing.
After an hour, they decided to take a breather and claim two abandoned chairs by the wall.
"You want a drink?" Richie offered.
"Sure," she answered, fanning herself with her hand. "It's hot in here."
"I'll be right back." He headed toward the refreshment table where teachers were guarding the food and drink from those under the impression that it would be funny to spike it. "Two, please," he asked the man behind the table.
"I thought we were rid of you, Ryan," the principal joked, dishing out two cups of red punch.
Richie smiled. "Last time, I swear. I'm on a date."
"Yeah, I saw you Burke on the dance floor. I was wondering when you two were going to bite the bullet."
"Excuse me?"
"Always getting in trouble together, practically inseparable, it was only a matter of time…"
Richie took the drinks with a self-conscious smile. "Yeah, I guess so…"
He moved down the line and looked over the cookies on the table. Mrs. Walden, the detention warden as she was called by the students, was watching over the sweets. Richie stood trying to find the best looking cookies and figure out how to carry them with his hands full of plastic cups.
"Here you go," Mrs. Walden folded four cookies into a napkin and didn't let go until he had everything securely in his grip. "You and Angela make a cute couple," she winked at him as he turned to leave.
Was his little crush really that obvious? Everyone kept telling him how good they looked with each other and how it was about time they got together. He wondered if Angie was getting the same treatment. He saw her smile at him as their eyes met. He smiled back and she looked away. Maybe he wasn't the only one who felt he was on a date…
He took his seat next to her and handed over a cup of punch then the napkin of cookies. "Thought you might be hungry, too."
"Thanks," she smiled. Richie smiled back, at a loss for what he was supposed to say. "People keep telling me we look good together."
"Its 'cause Tessa insisted we match…" Richie indicated the vest.
"No, they mean, in general, you know?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I've been getting that, too. Even the principal and warden had to put their two cents in."
They sat silently for a while, not uncomfortable, but awkward.
"So… have you ever thought about it?" he asked. Might was well get it over with if they were already talking about it.
"You and me, you mean?"
"Yeah."
She shrugged and bit into a cookie. "Sometimes."
"Me, too," he admitted, downing his punch as if it were whiskey. "You wanna?" he asked suddenly.
"What?"
"You know… after the dance we could…watch the submarine races," he finished with a slight laugh.
Angie thought about it.
"You don't have to, you know," he continued. "It was just an idea. I don't wanna pressure you or anything. I know how to keep my hands to myself."
"Okay," she finally answered.
"See? No problem. Now I'll just make you uncomfortable for the rest of the night cause you think I'm a horny freak…"
"No, I mean, okay, I'll do it."
"Yeah?" he perked up a bit. "I mean, only if you want to…"
"I do. It's what you do at prom, isn't it?"
"Not last year, my date spent the dance barfing."
"All the more reason for you to have fun this time around," she said.
"So, you wanna go?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye and a wicked grin.
"No. I've promised some people some dances, and I haven't found all my friends yet," she told him.
"Okay. It's your prom. Take your time. We'll leave last if you want."
Angie smiled and kissed his cheek. "You aren't a very good actor, but you'll just have to wait."
"You don't mind if I dance with some people, too, do you?" he asked. "While you go through your long list I figure I can scrounge up some bottom feeders."
Angie laughed. "You can find the queen for all I care. But you're my date, just keep that in mind."
"Yes, ma'am," Richie smiled and put out his hand. "Want to dance some more, or do I have to get a number?"
"I'm sure I can squeeze you in…"
