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Mostly because it sounds so fun to say, we all echo Shannon’s words before clinking our glasses together.
Prom is being held at Landry’s country club. I’ve only been here once before, for a birthday dinner back when my mom was still alive. The building looks just as pretentious now as it did then, but it’s also stunning. The decorations inside don’t disappoint either. Twinkling lights, candles, and flowers are everywhere. We walk across the marble lobby to the inside of the ballroom, and I feel like I’ve stepped inside a fairytale.
“Whoa,” Shannon breathes, looking around.
We head for one of the open tables. I eye the two plates, three forks, and multiple glasses a bit apprehensively. I’ll have to follow everyone else’s lead on etiquette once dinner is served.
More and more seniors continue to trickle in until all the tables around us are filled.
It’s not until uniformed waiters start serving the first course that it occurs to me: he might not be coming. None of his friends are here, either. Nor Madison and her usual crew. Maybe they’re having their own private get-together?
I should be relieved. It should make tonight more enjoyable. Less trepidatious.
Instead, there’s a sinking disappointment.
Dinner is possibly the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Aside from special occasions, Gramps and I eat a rotation of the same five or six meals. Tonight, there’s a salad with zesty dressing, pepper-crusted filet mignon, lemony green beans, and crisp potatoes.
After the dinner plates have been cleared, a spread of desserts is set out along with coffee, tea, soda, and water. The piano music that’s been playing in the background stops, and a DJ takes the stage. Pop music starts as soon as some of the tables have been cleared, revealing a dance floor.
A few people begin dancing. But most everyone remains seated, talking or eating dessert.
Not long after, Tina sits up straighter in her seat. “Here comes the cool crowd.”
She’s looking toward the door. I twist my head before I can stop myself.
He’s here. Walking toward one of the open tables amidst a group of his friends, baseball teammates, and an awful lot of girls. Including Madison.
I look away quickly, before anyone can catch me staring.
Cassie gets a bunch of desserts from the buffet. I take a brownie when she offers the plate to me and listen to the gossip about the couples dancing. More and more people are beginning to head out to the dance floor.
My eyes stay on the front of the room, but my gaze wants to look to my left, over where Caleb went. Eventually, my empty glass provides me with an opportunity to scan the room and preserve my pride.
“I’m going to get some more water,” I say. “Anyone else want anything?”
Suddenly, there’s silence.
“Alright, then.” I laugh a little as I stand. “I’ll be ba—”
I turn, the word dying in my throat when I realize someone is blocking my path.
He’s wearing a tux. That’s all I register at first. A whole lot of black and white fabric. Then my gaze travels up, until it reaches blue eyes. My heartrate accelerates to a rapid, uneven rhythm.
After holding my gaze for a few seconds, his drops, looking at my dress. He’s close enough I can see his throat bob with a swallow.
“Hey.” That’s all Caleb says. No compliment. But he’s still looking, and maybe that says more.
I know I’m not unattractive. Guys have shown interest in me. But none of them have ever looked at me the way Caleb Winters is looking at me right now: like I’m oxygen and he’s just run out of air.
“Hey,” I echo, not sure what else to say. I never thought he’d come over here. Not after everything. I’m sure people are staring, but for once I genuinely don’t care. They can say or think whatever they want.
Caleb shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you want to dance?”
I nod, then clear my throat. “Sure.”
He nods back as he steps to the side, allowing me to pass by and walk in the direction of the dance floor. Halfway there, his hand settles on the small of my back. I can feel the heat radiating from his palm, sinking through the thin fabric of my dress and spreading across my skin.
The DJ is already in the middle of a song. Caleb guides me toward one corner with some open space. The melody is upbeat and fast, suited for grinding or gyrating. But we stand like we’re waltzing, my hand on his shoulder and his on my waist.
