Prom Nights from Hell

Back out on the crowded dance floor, Melissa Harris looked up, distracted. Had someone just called her name? There didn't seem to be anyone close enough to be responsible for the low sound. Just her imagination, then. Melissa looked back at her date and tried to concentrate on what he was saying.

Melissa wondered why she had agreed to go to the prom with Cooper Silverdale. He wasn't her type. A small boy, consumed with his own importance, with too much to prove. He'd been oddly hyper all night, bragging about his family and his possessions nonstop, and Melissa was tired of it.

Another faint whisper caught Melissa's attention, and she turned.

There, too far across the crowd to be the source behind the sound, Tyson Bell was staring straight at Melissa over the head of the girl he danced with. Melissa looked down at once, shuddering, trying not to care who he was with, forcing herself not to look.

She moved closer to Cooper. Boring and shallow, maybe, but better than Tyson. Anyone was better than Tyson.

Really? Is Cooper really the better option? The questions popped into Melissa's thoughts as if they came from someone else entirely. Involuntarily, she glanced up into Tyson's heavily lashed dark eyes. He was still staring.

Of course Cooper was better than Tyson, no matter how beautiful Tyson was. That beauty was just part of the trap.

Cooper babbled on, stumbling over his words as he tried to capture Melissa's interest.

You're out of Cooper's league, the thought whispered. Melissa shook her head, embarrassed for thinking that way. It was vain. Cooper was just as good as she was, as good as any other boy.

Not as good as Tyson. Remember how it was…

Melissa tried to keep the images out of her mind: Tyson's warm eyes, full of longing… his hands, rough and soft against her skin… his rich voice that made even the most common words sound like poetry… the way just the lightest pressure of his lips against her fingers could send her pulse sprinting in her veins…

Her heart thumped, aching.

Deliberately, Melissa dredged up a new memory to combat the rebel images. Tyson's iron fist smashing into the side of her face without warning-the black spots blossoming in front of her eyes-her hands bracing against the floor-vomit choking in her throat-raw pain shaking her whole body-

He was sorry. So sorry. He promised. Never again. Unwanted, the image of Tyson's coffee eyes swimming with tears clouded her vision.

Reflexively, Melissa's eyes sought Tyson. He was still staring. His forehead creased, his eyebrows pulled together, grief-stricken…

Melissa shuddered again.

"Are you cold? Do you want my-?" Cooper half-shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and then stopped himself, his face flushing. "You can't be cold. It's so hot in here," he said lamely as he withdrew the offer, buttoning the jacket back into place.

"I'm fine," Melissa assured him. She forced herself to look only at his sallow, boyish face.

"This place kinda sucks," Cooper said, and Melissa nodded, happy to agree with him. "We could go to my father's country club. There's an incredible restaurant, if you're in the mood for dessert. We won't have to wait for a table. As soon as I mention my name…"

Melissa's attention wandered again.

Why am I here with this little snob? asked the thought that was so strangely unfamiliar in her head, though it came in her own voice. He's a weakling. So what if he couldn't hurt a kitten? Isn't there more to love than safety? I don't feel the same need in my stomach when I look at Cooper-when I look at anyone besides Tyson… I can't lie to myself. I still want him. So much. Isn't that love, that wanting?

Melissa wished she hadn't drunk so much of that vile, burning punch. It was impossible to think clearly.

She watched as Tyson left his partner stranded and crossed the floor until he stood right in front of her-the perfect broad-shouldered football hero cliché. It was as if Cooper didn't exist there between them.

"Melissa?" he asked in his melting voice, sorrow twisting his features. "Melissa, please!" He held his hand out toward her, ignoring Cooper's wordless spluttering.

Yes yes yes yes yes chanted in her head.

A thousand memories of desire rocked through her. Her clouded mind buckled.

Hesitantly, Melissa nodded.

Tyson smiled in relief, in joy, and pulled her around Cooper and into his arms.

It was just so easy to go with him. Melissa's blood ran through her veins like fire.

"Yes!" the pale dark girl hissed, hidden in her stall, and a forked tongue of flame lit her face with red. The fire popped loud enough that someone might have noticed if the bathroom hadn't still been full of shrill voices raised in irritation.