Your prom night. We weren’t dating, you were actually dating someone else at the time but both your proms were scheduled for the same night and neither of you could decide which one to go to, so you collectively decided to each go to your own. That’s how I became your date.
Her name was Diane, and she was so incredibly out of your league. Sometimes I wonder how you scored her, but I know its because you had an undeniable amount of charm stored away inside of you, and it always came out when you wanted something, and back then all you wanted was her. You almost never didn’t get your way.
We all met up late in the afternoon for photos. You and Diane took most of them together, and then you took some with me too, and a couple with just me. Then we took some with Kate: we joked and called it our “fam photo”. Then time came for Diane to leave and meet up with her friends for photos, so you kissed her goodbye, wished her a good night and then watched her leave. I remember watching you walk across the parking lot after back to me and you mimicked a fancy slide move in your suit, full hands in the air, everything. Then you spun around, jumped and stopped in front of me, pointed at me, and winked. You were such a dork, I couldn’t help but laugh. That was just one of your many talents; always knowing how to make me smile.
When we actually got to your prom, I remember you telling me you didn’t think it was anything special. It felt odd spending our entire year attending University parties with Drummer Boy only to go to a high school prom night. I liked it though. It was nice to have a night with just you. Since you had started dating Diane, a lot of your time was taken by her. Which was fine, great even for you to like her as much as you did, but I couldn’t help but feel like someone was stealing my best friend away. It was hard to wrap my head around you wanting to spend time with someone and not me: that was never how it was before.
You tried the entire evening to get me to dance with you, but you knew I wasn’t much of a dancer. You knew that, but you persisted because you always said; you don’t get anything in life unless you ask for it. Did I mention that you almost never didn’t get your way? I’m not sure exactly how you convinced me, but before the night was through our feet christened the dance floor. It was probably the tequila you snuck in.
I remember we left early in the end, thinking we would check out the after party before deciding what our next move would be. Unfortunately, we got to the frat house that was hosting, and it was even lamer than prom, so we bolted from there too. We wandered downtown for a bit of time, you held my heels as we walked, your jacket was around my shoulders. Then you raised the idea of going back home, to your house, where I’d stay overnight with you. So we caught a cab and off we went.
We got to your place and everyone was asleep, so we tiptoed through the house to your room. You went in search of the air mattress, the one I always slept on anytime I stayed over. Sometimes you insisted we switch, but most often I preferred the floor. You came back, after an abnormally long time, with no mattress in hand. You insisted I stay, and that you would sleep on the floor, but I told you to stop being so ridiculous.
That was the first night we ever shared a bed. We were trying so hard not to invade each other’s personal space, so we spent the night trying to fall asleep on either edge of the mattress. Ironically, we slept so comfortably and soundly. It felt so comfortable to be falling asleep in a familiar place. We didn’t start dating for another 5ish months, but once we did, I used to tease you all the time about how maybe you couldn’t find that air mattress on purpose.
Diane broke up with you about two weeks after that. She was starting school in Guelph, and you had just deferred your acceptance to Dalhousie for a year. I remember how crushed you were when you told me, like you knew it was probably the right thing, but even so, no part of you wanted it. I know how much you cared for her, and I also remember how much she cried at your funeral. She was in love with you, but it was hard for her to be second best to me. She told me that, and it was hard to hear. Because even though I was under the impression that all you ever wanted to do was spend time with her, apparently all you only ever wanted to do was spend time with me. When you were with me, all you would do was talk about Diane, and all Diane would ever hear about when she was with you was your best friend Lauren. It’s funny how much I learn about you now that you’re not here.
