Not Another High School Love Story

29. Once in a Lifetime

Prom. It's everything I thought it would be. Madison's lackeys have been hanging out by the door since the dance started, extorting votes from anyone who comes in. Marcus and his buddies are trying to figure out how to spike the punch, and a group of stoners are getting high in the bathroom. At least five girls have broken down in tears against the far wall, and two kids have already been thrown out for starting a fight. I've barely seen Brent tonight, but no doubt he's off with the Populars getting drunk. That's how things work. Madison looks bored amidst a crowd of her worshippers, all she cares about is being crowned queen. Besides their obligation to appear together for a few dances, Madison and Brent are practically ignoring each other. How do I know all this? Because I'm the photographer.

As soon as Ms. Montgomery dropped me off I cast my vote, then I got to work wandering around, taking photos of all these happy people having a great time. This isn't so fun for me. Never mind the fact that I can't even talk to Brent, I guess I never stopped to consider I don't have any real friends anymore. If I didn't have my camera to keep me busy, I wonder what I would do. I'd probably have ended up with the other wall flowers by now, watching everyone else dance, and I don't think it can get more pathetic than that. Lucky for me I have a distraction, but it inevitably leads to a tragic sight.

There's some rock song playing over the speakers, loud enough that I can feel my bones vibrating, and the entire dance floor has turned into a mosh pit. That's not what bothers me though, what I find concerning is the one person I discover standing off a ways, watching the scene as if she too is one of the wallflowers. Grace is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, I've always thought that, but she looks absolutely breathtaking tonight. It's a crime she has to be alone, even if it serves me well. This is it, this is my time, and I snap a picture of her as I come up close.

"You look beautiful." I tell her, lowering the camera to witness the surprised expression on her face. Well, maybe not surprised, not exactly, just leery.

"Oh, thanks. It took my mom three hours to do my hair." She plays along, ignoring the bad blood between us. The red dress she wears, though stunning, doesn't do her justice, but she holds it out to the sides anyway as if giving me a full view. "This whole thing is stupid, I don't know why I'm even doing this."

"Probably to see the look on Madison's face when you win prom queen. I voted for you." Making up can't be this easy, not after it's been this long, but I desperately want it to be. I know she needs more from me than a playful rejoinder, but I've missed talking to her and it's nice to feel at home again. Almost like I'm stepping back into some old skin. Yet she's not as sure and she goes quiet, leaving me to scramble in an effort to keep the conversation alive. "Where's Bram?"

"I don't know." Her lips tighten and I can tell she feels just like I do about being left alone. Not like I need to ask, I already saw him, clutching the hand of one of the crying girls in an earnest attempt to solve everybody's problems. I'm only trying to buy time, even if it's nothing more than one last fleeting moment to spend with her. Of all the words that suddenly fill my head, I realize there's one thing I haven't told her yet.

"Good, I was actually hoping we could maybe talk." I move even closer, ensuring she can hear me fine over the music. Out of some biological response she adjusts to welcome my advance, watching me with uncertain eyes. "I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

"That's it? You're sorry?" She won't take it at face value, but even though she acts like a woman scorned she still does it tastefully. Her actions betray her, the way she leans in closer and her eyes widen make it clear she wants to believe. I can't blame her for being afraid to stick her hand in the fire again. "Why now?"

"Come on, you know me, you know I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. I don't know how things got so messed up between us, but you're still my best friend, I want what we had back. I miss you, Grace." There's nothing to be gained by standing on my pride now, so I lay it all bear for her to see. It's not right to cause her any more pain, but my sentiment seems to hit her hard and she has to look away.