Senior Year Box Set

And that was why I loved Cassidy. She simply shrugged and settled into the seat close to me.

“You think I look sexy, don’t you?” she asked.

“You have no idea,” I assured her.

◊◊◊

I was a happy boy when we shot over to Washington to go to my favorite seafood place. I had a good time teaching Cassidy how to eat blue crab. Our server told us that they’d come in today, and they’d saved two portions of them for us. Score another one for Lexi.

Our prom committee had arranged for the event to be held at a hotel with a large ballroom, close to the State campus. I’d had Lexi reserve a couple of rooms. Earlier in the week, I’d gotten with Coach Hope, and he’d given me casual clothes for Cassidy so we could change after the dance.

I honestly had no plans for us to take advantage of the room other than as a place to relax. Cassidy was her own woman and a good friend. She’d been clear that she didn’t want anything to happen between us. Cassidy had said in the past that she planned to be the last one standing when the time came. But she was in no hurry for us to be anything more right now.

I walked up to the front desk and grabbed the keys for the rooms, and they assured me that our bags had already been taken upstairs.

With that task completed, we made our way to the ballroom.

◊◊◊

I walked up to my brother and his buddies. He was sharing his sexual accomplishments with them.

“… then she choked on my dick.”

“A girl choking on your dick? You realize that has to be an act …” I said to Phil.

Roc and Yuri went from fascinated with my brother’s bullshit to bending over laughing.

“You’ve seen him in the shower,” I added.

Phil wasn’t pleased with me, not to put too fine a point on it.

“What do you want?” Phil barked at me.

I handed him his hotel-room keys. Yuri snatched them out of his hand.

“I better keep these.”

“Give them back,” Phil said.

I shook my head and left them to work it out. I’d done my big-brother good deed for the week; it was now time to party.

◊◊◊

The prom committee had done a great job. The theme was ‘under the sea.’ I would guess that it had been popular when my parents were in high school, but they’d done an excellent job all the same. At the entrance and around the sides were balloon arches with cutout fish hanging from strings. Each table had a collection of seashells as a centerpiece.

Of course, we had the obligatory photographer. This year it was a creepy old guy who didn’t generate much business. With the advent of selfies and social media, there wasn’t really a need for a formal picture anymore. I would much rather see photos of my friends and me having a good time than something staged.

I was glad to see that they’d saved money and gotten a DJ instead of springing for a band. She at least had a little something for everyone instead of our being stuck listening to the same style of music all night.

Cassidy was a good sport and accompanied me to the dance floor. I knew she wasn’t as into dancing as a regular girl would have been, but she did it to make me happy.

At the first break, Stacy—Tim’s date—got up to make announcements. She had been the chairperson of the Prom committee. I was glad she took the time to introduce all her committee members to give them a little recognition.

“It’s time to announce your Prom Queen and King. Can I have a drum roll, please?” Stacy asked.

We all pounded on our tables to support her. Standing up front, she had two of her committee members holding the crowns for tonight’s winners.

“The Prom Queen is … Stacy Clute!” she said and began to dance around.

Then she looked embarrassed.

“Did I say that out loud?” she asked as her helper ripped the crown off her head.

I noticed she waited until one of her friends had snapped her picture for posterity. I loved that she’d pulled the fake winner and called out herself. If you were in charge, why not?

“Drum roll,” she told us. “This year’s Prom Queen is … Pam Bell.”

Poor Pam had no idea we’d been politicking for her to win this year. She looked to be in total shock at winning. Stacy sent her helpers out to drag Pam up front so she could put her crown on.

“Okay, this next one is almost as shocking as Darius Rossetti winning homecoming king. It was also one of the closest votes I’ve ever been involved with,” Stacy said, building the drama.

“Drum roll!” she said.

She had us all grinning at her antics.

“Prom King is …” she said and ripped open the envelope. “This can’t be right, can it?”

Her two helpers got together and read the results. They called over a couple of others, and there seemed to be a heated debate. Finally, Stacy shrugged and accepted their verdict. She turned to the crowd.

“David Dawson,” she said, deadpan.

I started mentally making a list as I observed the looks of shock and utter disbelief shown by everyone in the crowd.

“We want a recount!” Wolf yelled.

Yep! Dead to me. They had punked me. I strode up, grabbed my crown out of Stacy’s hand, and put it on. I also grabbed the microphone.