Playing with Forever

Chapter 48: Prom

I found a pile of seven one-hundred dollar bills on my bed after Sam had left for the night, and I immediately dialed his cell. "I'm not taking your money," I told him as soon as he picked up.

"It is for a prom dress," he said in defense.

"We're going to prom?" I asked in surprise.

"Of course we are going to prom."

"Oh." Warmth started pooling in my chest. "You could have asked me," I teased.

"Oh. Did you want me to?"

It would have been nice for him to have at least mentioned it before then. "I mean, people usually ask instead of assuming."

"My apologies. Abigail, love of my life, will you go to prom with me?" he teased.

I turned my nose up playfully. "I'll take it under consideration."

"Pardon me?" Sam spluttered.

I sighed and drawled, "Okay, fine, I'll go. I haven't had any better offers."

He snorted. "You have not had any other offers."

"You don't know that!" I gasped in mock outrage.

"Yes, I do."

"There could be some random freshman smitten with me that I never told you about," I said.

"Freshman cannot go to prom."

"Okay, fine, I haven't had any other offers," I admitted. "I'll go with you. But I'm not buying a dress, and certainly not a seven hundred dollar dress. Are you insane?"

"You have to buy something to wear."

I thought for a moment about my options. "I'll wear the gown you bought me for the New York holiday party. The green silk one."

"Hm," he hummed taking a minute to consider, eventually announcing, "I suppose that will do. You were very beautiful in that dress."

"You always think I'm beautiful."

"That is because it is true."

I laughed. He wasn't teasing, though, but was one hundred percent genuine. His adoration was sometimes too large to absorb on a day to day basis, though, so I brushed it off. Someday, I'd fix my eating problem and be a natural weight again and be acceptable, but I didn't currently live up to what he saw with his rose-colored glasses.

The green dress really did make me feel pretty, though.

Before we left the night of the dance, Sam roped Emile into taking pictures of us. Emile was more than happy to oblige. He got into it, too—posing us, styling us, making sure to get the best shots. We looked like a fancy magazine advertisement for perfume or watches or something. I looked prettier than I felt, and I had already felt pretty good. I knew I was going to stare and swoon at the pictures over and over again, a substitute for when Sam wasn't beside me. We made a good looking couple—at least in the photos.

Sam took me to a fancy French restaurant in between pictures and the actual dance while we were all dressed up in our formal wear. Each table had spotless white tablecloths and more cutlery than I knew what to do with. The waiters were dressed up and didn't write down orders, memorizing our choices instead. The menu was small, and Sam explained it changed daily to fit whatever the chef thought was freshest.

The portions were small, thankfully, and I enjoyed what I did eat. I couldn't pronounce anything on the menu, but with Sam there to translate, I chose a chicken dish with a rich, creamy sauce. I hummed with pleasure when I tasted it, making Sam smile.

"Good?" he asked.

I swallowed a decadent bite of my dinner with a grin. "The best," I replied.

Talk was easy as we ate, as it always was. I had a specific request, though, that I had been thinking about for a while. As we were finishing dinner, I turned to him and said, "Sam, you know what I want for a graduation present?"

He speared a disregarded mushroom off my plate and popped it in his mouth. "And what would that be?"

"I want to know the whole story. You. Your whole story."

He didn't look up at me. "I know."

"I've told you so much about me. I'd like to know about you, too."

"I know." He sighed, then relented, "I will tell you tomorrow."

"Tell me now," I begged. "We'll skip the dance."

He smiled. "It is senior prom, Abigail. You do not want to miss that."

"I'd rather you tell me your life story."

"You said you wanted to go to a dance with your boyfriend and dance in front of the whole school, remember?"

"You just want to show me off, don't you?" I teased.

"Can you blame me?"

I blushed. "Compromise?" He considered, then gestured for me to continue. "We go for one dance. Then we come home and you tell me your life story. Afterwards we dance the night away, alone, at your house."

He sighed again but nodded, tossing his napkin down on the table then helping me out of my chair. "I suppose I have no choice but to agree."

"No choice at all," I said with a smile.

"Come then, you owe me a dance."

Prom was held in a local hotel's ballroom instead of the gym. The place was dim but decorated full out, and music pounded through speakers from a DJ at the front of the room. The place was full of our peers dressed in sophisticated attire dancing in the least sophisticated ways possible. Taking Sam by the hand, I led him onto the dance floor, looking around for our friends.

I found them quickly, a group of varsity volleyball team members with their dates, Mina and Dylan among them. Mina gestured us over wildly, jumping up and down when we got to them. "You look so hot!" Mina yelled at me.

"You too!" I yelled back over the music. She preened in her short blue dress with bold cutouts, fluffing her hair and twirling in a circle. Dylan watched with heated eyes before pulling her back to him.

"We're not staying," I told them. "Just wanted to come say hi."

Mina looked surprised but wiggled her brows at me. "Off to a romantic night at the hotel?"

I rolled my eyes. "We're not doing that."

We danced enthusiastically to upbeat music, laughing and working up a sweat in the heat of the ballroom. A slow song eventually came on, and I happily let Sam pull me into his arms. We swayed gently together, glad to be in each other's arms.

"You are pleased we came, are you not?" he murmured into my hair.

I sighed in contentment. "You were right. This is really nice."

He kissed my forehead, then pulled back to get lost in my eyes. It felt so good, so right, to be there in his arms. We were in a room of our classmates, and I was proud that people were seeing us together. I was proud to be there in Sam's arms. I was proud to show him off, to show everyone that he was mine and I was his.

Our dreamy dance done, we said our goodbyes and got back Sam's car. Prom was nice, and I was glad I'd been able to fulfill my wish of dancing with my boyfriend in front of the school, but there was something I wanted more. I wanted to talk about Sam.