promma mia | the cut section
Everything had been planned down to the last detail. And although he had initially been terribly skeptic about going to prom to begin with, Allison had been the one to talk him into it. They’d been sharing an illicit cigarette behind the gym while cutting class when Allison brought up the subject:
“Andrew asked me about prom yesterday.” She said, ever so casually, causing John to start coughing mid-puff on the cigarette she provided (although she, much like John, told Andrew she would kick the habit).
Once John managed to regulate his breathing, he asked: “Well, don’t just throw that out there and leave it alone – what’d you say?”
Allison took the cigarette back, idly rolling it between her forefinger and thumb, not meeting John’s eyes and not speaking for a long moment before saying: “I said yes.”
“You fucking sellout.” John fumed, shaking his head. “We promised we wouldn’t let these uptown kids change us.”
At this juncture, Allison looked up at him, her dark eyes flashing as she sneered, “Yeah, well, I don’t live with my girlfriend in her gilded cage, now, do I?”
“Fuck you. You don’t know my life.” John spat before he could think twice about it.
“And you’re a fucking liar. I know everything about you, stupid. I’ve known you since we were five. Don’t mistake me here. I’m glad you had an opportunity to get out of a shitty situation and you took it. But, really, you’re the sellout here. Especially if you’re gonna get pissy at me for breaking a stupid deal we made years ago.”
“Oh, like freshman year was so long ago. Have the pills deep fried your brain, Allie?”
“Go fuck yourself, John Bender.”
“You first, you fucking Judas.”
Things went more like this until Allison finally broke the tense silence. “Claire is hoping you’ll ask her, you know.” John scoffed around the cigarette, rolling his eyes. “Come on, man,” Allison said, her tone almost unnaturally soft. “It’s the least you could do for her. She fucking took you into her home and let your stupid ass move in. She helped you get your grades up. She’s done so much for you these past seven months. She loves you – which is totally dumb because you’re actually the fucking worst.”
“Yeah, she could do better than me.” John admitted, scuffing the toe of his boot against the remnants of March snow that had turned to gravel-filled slush. “I dunno. I’ll think about it... Okay?” He looked over at his childhood friend, who was giving him a rare, small smile.
Brian had helped him create a budget – the first one he’d ever had in his life – to save up for this prom business. Before this, John’s only knowledge about prom was that girls got stupid excited about promposals and would gossip about where to buy dresses and what was in style at any possible location in school starting around January. He knew because by the time he had the conversation with Allison, there had been multiple times where his locker neighbor and her little sophomore friends would block his locker to gossip about getting an upperclassman to ask them. Usually, he’d scare them into dispersal with a well-timed glare. But Brian’s budget had him working more than usual to save up. He talked his boss at the garage into letting him work longer on the weekends and more during the school week – just for now, he’d promised.
He knew Claire was at least a little bit miffed that he had told her that he was not into going to prom. But he also knew that she knew better than to drag him to things he didn’t wanna go to. She had seen that firsthand when they’d gone to her cousin’s engagement party and John had gotten so bored that he’d almost inadvertently set the curtains of the venue aflame. He’d had to do a lot of apologizing for that little stunt. But he was certain that she didn’t want something similar happening to the historic Drake hotel – that year’s locale for the prom.
He had, however, let himself be brought along to her appointments at a variety of upscale boutiques and department stores – even a David’s Bridal, where John broke into hives whence surrounded by all the wedding dresses and accoutrements – where she modeled dresses for him. He was given some power of veto, but the choice was ultimately hers. And besides, John enjoyed sneaking into the dressing room to fool around just a little too much. He bought himself a ticket the same day she bought hers, offering to at least buy her ticket for her, which she seemed pleased about. He then handed over his ticket to Brian for safekeeping.
It was with Brian and Andrew that he’d even gone suit shopping for the first time in his life. The last time John knew he was ever in a suit was for his father’s wedding to his stepmother, he was eight and the shirt’s collar made his neck itch until his father slapped the back of his hands to make him stop. The back of his hands were still red in the photo from the day mounted on the mantle above the fireplace. But Brian and Andrew made the day a little fun, with Andrew borrowing his dad’s prized Cadillac for the drive into Chicago and Brian bringing a silver flask – that he proudly stated had belonged to his grandfather – filled with scotch from his mother’s liquor cabinet. John was proud of the nerd’s small act of rebellion and promised to buy them all the finest Cuban cigars for post-prom. They’d had a cool time, goofing off and horsing around in the shops, while still giving each other good feedback on different looks. John had chosen what was cheap but still looked nice – the classic black suit with a soft tie that matched the color of Claire’s dress.
From there, it moved into the next step of the plan: Execution. He’d gone ahead and bought Claire a corsage and himself a matching boutonniere, with the help of prom-literate Andrew. He had the corsage delivered while he was working and without a note the morning of prom, all too amused by her reaction – which was to send him a photo, with the accompanying text: You didn’t have to. – Oh, but he did have to. He came home in time to see her off, giving her a kiss and a playful tap of her perfect ass, telling her to have fun with her friends. He knew she and her friends (and their dates) were going to dinner – he had already called ahead and pre-ordered dessert for her – so he had time to get ready before Brian, Andrew, and Allison were due to meet him in front of the hotel. He’d showered, shaved and made sure everything was ready. He had already rented a room at the hotel (thanks to an immaculate fake ID and a credit card he barely ever used) and gone there at check-in time to collect room keys and drop off some things. He’d packed a bag for Claire, too, with some pajamas and comfortable clothes for the morning after.
