Prom Date Read online

  “Teal?” Devon echoed. “There was a teal gown that caught my eye, but it’s not exactly my usual look, you know?”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing. Try something different. Describe it.”

  “Well, the gown had a gathered skirt, and the bodice was cut like a strapless gown.” She laughed. “Which would probably look hot on me. But then it had this lace thingy going on up above the bodice. I mean, the lace part was the same color as the dress, but you could see skin through it. But it was kind of, well, modest, I guess you’d say.” She laughed harder now.

  “Go try it on,” Bryn commanded. “And send me the photo.” In Bryn’s opinion, Devon would do well to consider less flashy styles. With all her curvy flamboyance, that girl often pushed it too far. And Em was right, Devon needed to be careful or she could look like a hooker. Anyway, it would be interesting to see her in a “modest” gown.

  When Devon’s photo popped up, Bryn was totally shocked. Devon looked amazing in this dress. And although the neckline was high and the little cap sleeves covered her shoulders, Devon still looked hot. But it was a good sort of hot. Once again, Bryn decided to just call her. “I love that dress,” she told Devon. “You look like a million bucks in it. Very classic and chic.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely. It’s gorgeous and if you don’t get it, I’ll be seriously disappointed in you.”

  “The other girls are gaga over it too,” Devon conceded. “So I guess this wraps it up.”

  “Is Felicia with you?” Bryn asked.

  “No, she’s visiting Sofia.”

  “Oh . . . How is Sofia?”

  Devon sighed. “Sounds like she’s in a lot of pain.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “But Felicia said to tell you she took your advice on her gown,” Devon continued. “I think Emma might have a photo on her phone.”

  “Tell her to send it to me,” Bryn said before she hung up. She’d known that Felicia was worried about her prom dress. Bryn had done a long online search trying to find some gowns that would look great on Felicia, but not be too over-the-top for her parents. Like Abby’s dad, the Ruezes were fairly conservative—especially after what had happened with Felicia last winter when she’d suddenly decided to sneak some rather strange items of clothing to school, behind her mom’s back.

  Bryn’s phone chimed again. This time the message was from Emma, and the photo was of a smiling Felicia wearing a gown that looked almost identical to one of the images that Bryn had sent her more than a week ago. It was a sleeveless gown with a hot pink bodice—a jewel neckline that was modest enough to please any dad—and a flowing skirt in a bright colored print of orange and coral and hot pink. Kind of a tropical look, but with Felicia’s brown skin and shiny black hair, it looked amazing . . . and expensive. But when Bryn questioned Emma on the price, Emma informed her that the dress came from Formal Rental Wear and had only cost forty bucks. Go figure!

  19

  Devon didn’t normally consider herself a particularly generous person. Okay, that was probably an understatement. She secretly felt that she was extremely selfish and narcissistic. After all, hadn’t her own mother said as much? And more than once. Lots more than once. When Devon was thirteen or fourteen she’d decided she needed to look out for the big number one. Herself. Because, really, who else would? And if, as a result, she came across as self-serving and egotistical, well, that was her problem, right? Until it was no longer right. Until it became clear that it was actually wrong. Very wrong.

  Devon wasn’t exactly sure how to explain what had been going on inside her these past several months. More specifically since she’d been enrolled, against her will, into Northwood Academy and since the Dating Games club had been established. She knew the changes in her weren’t the result of participating in a “dating club.” In reality, the club had always been more about the girls—and the friendships—than it had ever been about dating or guys. Ironic, since the latter had been Devon’s primary purpose when she’d instigated the club back in September. Live and learn.

  Anyway, it was for these reasons—and lots of other reasons that Devon couldn’t quite put her finger on—that she was determined to do something for Bryn. As Abby’s mom drove them home from their prom shopping trip, Devon decided to bring it up.

  “I think we should put together a promposal for Bryn,” she announced from the backseat where she and Emma were sitting.

  “Huh?” Emma looked confused. “You mean we’re going to invite Bryn to prom?”

  “No.” Devon shook her head. “We’re going to call up Darrell Zuckerman and—”

  “Darrell Zuckerman?” Abby said from the front seat. “Are you serious?”

  “Hey, if I can go to prom with Leonard, why can’t Bryn go with Darrell?”

  “Who’s Darrell?” Abby’s mom asked quietly.

  “A kid at school,” Abby told her.

  “A kinda nerdy kid,” Emma filled in.

  “But he’s nice,” Abby assured her mom. “And he took Bryn to the masquerade ball.”

  “And I think they actually had a pretty good time,” Emma added.

  “Bryn handled it better than I did,” Devon confessed.

  The car got quiet, and Devon figured her friends were just doing her a favor by not rubbing her nose in the fact that she’d treated poor Leonard like doggy doo.

  “So are you girls saying that Bryn does not have a date for prom?” Abby’s mom sounded surprised.

  “Yeah,” Abby told her. “I think it’s because girls like Bryn can be intimidating. She probably could’ve gone with Jason, but she really doesn’t like him. In fact, none of us are too fond of him.”

  “He’s kind of a jerk,” Emma said quietly.

  “Yeah.” Devon agreed. “Anyway . . . I got this idea. I mean, even though Bryn says she’s okay about going to prom with the girls’ group, she still sounds pretty bummed about not having a date. So here’s what I’m thinking. What if we helped Darrell put together a really good promposal for Bryn?”

  “Darrell making a promposal?” Abby sounded skeptical.

  “We would help him,” Devon clarified. “We could figure something out—something fun and different—and Darrell could do it on Monday.”

  “I like it,” Emma said. “And Bryn’s been such a good sport. It would be nice if she had a date for prom.”

  “Do you guys have any ideas?” Devon asked. “I mean, it seems like almost everything’s been done. It would be fun to see Darrell do something different.”

  “I had an idea,” Abby said suddenly. “I was actually daydreaming about doing it for Kent.” She laughed. “Fortunately, he beat me to the punch.” She explained her idea of putting together a flash dance.

  “I’d love to be in a flash dance,” Devon said eagerly. “I was on dance team at my other high school.”

  “Maybe you could help choreograph it,” Abby suggested.

  “You could help her,” Abby’s mom said. “You took a lot of dance classes when you were younger.”

  “Yeah . . . well.”

  “Great,” Devon said quickly. “Abby, you can help me.”

  Before long, it was decided that Devon would figure out the music and then she’d meet with Abby after track practice tomorrow, and the two of them would create a flash dance plan.

  “Hopefully we can get the whole DG to help,” Devon said. “Well, except for Bryn. Let’s keep this from her until Monday.”

  “Maybe we could have a sleepover with the DG,” Abby suggested. “That way we could go over the flash dance until everyone’s got it down.”

  “Perfect,” Devon agreed.

  “But it would be really cool if we could get some guys involved too,” Abby said. “That’s the way I’d imagined it.”

  “We might be able to get some of the youth group guys on Saturday night,” Emma suggested.

  “If we keep their steps simple and leave the more complicated choreography for the DG, well, it might actually work,” Abby sai
d.

  “We have to get Darrell to do something,” Devon added. “Maybe he could dress up somehow.”

  By the time Abby’s mom dropped off Devon, they had the beginnings of what seemed like a very good plan. A plan that they all swore to keep top secret from Bryn.

  By Monday morning, Devon was very excited to get to school. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked forward to a school day like this. They’d spent the last several days putting together what might just be the best promposal yet. Even Darrell Zuckerman had gotten fully on board. Devon couldn’t wait until noon, when the flash dance would be revealed to everyone in the cafeteria. Until then, Devon and the others had to act totally nonchalant. The fun in this plan would be to catch Bryn totally off guard. And Isaac had been assigned to get the whole thing on camera.

  Finally, lunchtime came. The DG, as always, were sitting at their usual table—but this time with a totally oblivious Bryn. They were all talking like normal when the music started—a peppy song from the Red Hot Chili Peppers—and suddenly all the DG girls except Bryn jumped to their feet, and the flash dance began.

  Even Felicia, thanks to Emma’s help, was participating, and as they circled out and back in again, closing in around Bryn, Devon could tell that Bryn was totally bewildered. Then the youth group guys jumped in, and there were about a dozen dancing altogether, all rocking out to the song. As planned, the girls faded back and the guys stepped in front. Just like Devon had asked, all the guys had jackets on over the white T-shirts that had been provided by the girls.

  As the tempo got livelier, Darrell Zuckerman appeared. Dressed in an old tuxedo he’d borrowed from a relative, he danced through the circle of girls and into the center of the guys. When the music abruptly stopped, the guys, one by one going down the line, all opened their jackets to expose the letters that had been taped in red onto the white T-shirts:

  P-R-O-M-?

  Darrell dropped to one knee, holding out his hand to Bryn.

  Her expression was hard to read, and for a moment Devon was concerned. What if Bryn said no thanks? But then to everyone’s relief, Bryn burst into laughter and, grasping Darrell’s hand, yelled out, “Yes! Most definitely.”

  Everyone clapped and cheered and laughed. When the music started up again, it seemed like everyone wanted to dance. Devon wasn’t sure if it was the most spectacular promposal yet, but she thought it was probably the most fun. Even if it was a little bit last-minute.

  Bryn had never experienced so many different emotions in such a short period of time. At first she was confused. What were her friends doing? Then she thought she was hallucinating. How could they possibly dance that fabulously without her knowing about it? As the dance grew bigger and better, she felt slightly left out. Like she’d been stuck at the beach with the old girls’ group for way too long. Finally, when she discovered it was all being done for her, she was just plain flabbergasted and slightly speechless.

  It wasn’t until she saw Darrell Zuckerman, looking surprisingly suave in a Mad Men sort of tuxedo and making his way toward her, that it all started to make some kind of sense. Then all the guys ripped open their jackets to reveal those lovely big red letters inviting her to prom, and Darrell got down on one knee. Well, what else could she say? Besides, she wanted to go to prom with him. He was a really good dancer.

  After the hubbub surrounding the unexpected flash dance died down, Bryn asked her friends who was the brains behind this amazing occurrence.

  The girls just shrugged, giving Bryn blank looks. Finally Emma jerked her thumb toward Devon. “It was her idea to do a promposal.”

  “Seriously?” Bryn stared at Devon in wonder.

  “But Abby helped with the choreography,” Devon explained. “Everyone jumped in after that.”

  “It was really fun,” Abby told Bryn.

  “We wanted to make sure you had a date,” Cassidy said.

  “After all, the DG is about dating,” Felicia reminded Bryn.

  Bryn knew that she’d probably taken her friendship with these girls for granted, but today it seemed to mean more to her than ever. “I have an idea,” she told them as the lunch hour was ending. “Let’s all meet at my house before prom. We can all get ready there and help each other. And then we can do a sleepover after prom. Okay?”

  Everyone agreed that sounded like fun. As Bryn went to class, she was determined to make prom night as much about her friends as it was about prom.

  There was lots to do before Saturday night, and as chair of the prom committee, Bryn had her hands full. On Tuesday she held an “emergency” prom committee meeting. “I’ll give you the good news . . . and the bad news,” she began. “According to Mrs. Dorman, this prom has sold more tickets than any other prom in Northwood history.”

  The committee members applauded and exchanged congrats.

  “The bad news is that, as a result of the high attendance, we’re short on some things.” She glanced at her notes. “Thanks to several restaurants and Northwood’s own culinary arts program, we’ve got enough cooks and chefs to prepare the dinner. And Le Chateau has graciously upgraded us to their large banquet room. Thankfully, it was free. But we are severely shorthanded on waitstaff. Mrs. Dorman has arranged for me to go make an appeal to the eighth graders at Northwood Middle. Hopefully we’ll get some volunteers. But if anyone else has connections—friends from your church or family members—please let me know.”

  “What about food?” someone asked. “Hopefully we won’t be short on that. Those dinner tickets aren’t exactly cheap and I know people are expecting a good meal before prom.”

  “That’s a good question and we need to work on it,” Bryn told them. “Mrs. Dorman and I came up with an idea to help stretch what we’ve had donated. We’re sending home a flyer today, putting out a call to the Northwood parents, inviting them to sign up online to donate appetizers and desserts. The flyer will remind parents that all prom proceeds are going to help Sofia Ruez. Hopefully that will help to ignite their interest.”

  Bryn went over more details, assigning more housekeeping tasks and fielding more questions. By the time the meeting broke up, she felt reassured that she had a good team. Everyone seemed to care about making prom a success. She knew the whole promposal thing had a lot to do with that. For some reason the silly antics of people making public promposals had really bolstered school spirit and morale. Everyone felt certain that was why so many kids wanted to go to prom. That and the fact that they’d opened it up to the sophomore and freshman classes.

  On Wednesday morning, Bryn visited Northwood Academy’s eighth grade class to make an appeal to the kids there. She used the poster with Sofia’s photograph as her visual aid, first telling them about the young girl’s battle against leukemia and her need for good but expensive treatment. Then she explained how the prom proceeds would all go to help Sofia Ruez, and how every dollar made would be matched. Finally she reminded the eighth graders that next year they would be students at high school and prom would eventually be their responsibility. And to her relief, about thirty kids signed up to help. Probably more than they needed, but it would be better to have too many than too few.

  “You’ll need to wear black pants and white shirts.” She explained the rest of the details as she handed out the permission releases for their parents to sign. “And you’ll report an hour early for a quick training session.” She smiled. “We really appreciate it!”

  As Bryn drove back to the high school, she felt a real sense of accomplishment. It was no small feat organizing an event like this. The experience she’d gotten during the school year working on similar events had proved to be good training for this one. She knew this role would look good on her college résumé. And who knew, maybe someday she’d want to work full time as an events planner. That is, if her future in the fashion industry didn’t pan out.

  20

  With the help of the decorations committee and a few other volunteers, Emma spent more than six hours getting the decorations
set up over at Le Chateau. The cordoned-off red carpet was laid out, complete with large golden stars that glistened in the white lights stretched between the little brass posts. The big gold-and-silver heart-shaped balloon sculpture with more little white lights twisted through was all set and ready for photos. Everywhere you looked in the ballroom, as well as the banquet room, was a glittering display of gold stars, white lights, sparkle, and splash—all the touches of glitz and glamour that represented Hollywood. Very elegant and inviting. All that was missing was girls in gowns and guys in tuxes . . . and that was only a few hours away.

  “Thanks for helping,” Emma told Devon and Cassidy as they walked through the hotel lobby. Her friends had rushed to her aid a couple hours ago when she’d put out the call for help. “I’d probably still be wearing my jeans right now if you guys hadn’t come to my rescue.”

  “Poor Cinderella,” Cassidy teased, “you wouldn’t be able to attend the ball.”

  Devon paused by the front door, pointing to the area that the hotel had let the school use to display the promposal prize. The shiny red bike and backpack and camping gear, along with a prominent sign from the sporting goods store, were all neatly arranged. “Bryn and I set it up this morning,” Devon explained. “It was my idea to add all the helium balloons. And the way I tied them to the bike would make it really hard for someone to steal it.”

  “Hopefully no one would do that,” Cass said.

  “It’s a great prize and it looks really good,” Emma told Devon. “Makes me wish I’d tried to win it myself.”

  Devon reached under the cordon to straighten the backpack against the wheel of the bike, making it stand up better. “There.”

  “So who do you think will win it?” Cassidy asked as they went out to get her car.

  “Not Isaac.” Emma laughed to remember the mocha cup with the word PROM? penned onto the side. The slightly worn cup now held a place of honor on her bedroom dresser.

  “Probably not Lane either,” Cassidy said. “Although his song is still going through my head.”