A Tale of Two Proms (Bard Academy) (3 page)

I wish I knew.

For now, I felt more comfortable keeping it in my pocket. It sat in one pocket and my college letter lay folded in the other. I swear I was a walking metaphor for indecision. This morning, I was no closer to deciding what to do than I had been last night. Every time I put a hand in either pocket, I felt a whirl of confusion. The only certainty seemed that I would never be able to make a decision without regretting the outcome—whatever it was.

It occurred to me that this was my first big adult decision. And I have to say if this was what it meant to be an adult—to worry that any big decision you made was the wrong one—maybe growing up was seriously overrated.

“Well, I’m sure Heathcliff plans to ask you to prom soon, don’t worry,” Hana said, likely chalking up my odd reaction to nerves.

“Yeah,” I nodded. I felt a pang of guilt as I met Hana’s eyes. I wanted to tell her about Heathcliff’s proposal, but I already knew what she’d say. She would tell me I would be crazy to pick Heathcliff over college. Hana had been planning the interior of her dorm room at Princeton ever since she got her acceptance letter a few weeks back. She was firmly in the “go to college” camp, and until I was ready to agree with her, I honestly didn’t want to argue.

“Is Lindsay going to prom? Do you know?” she asked me.

Lindsay was my little sister. She came to Bard more than a year ago. We used to hate each other, but in the last year we mended our relationship. All it took to come together was a band of pirates trying to kill us. Funny how that works.

 “I don’t know. She hasn’t said and I haven’t pressed. It’s kind of a touchy subject since…”

“She’s crushing on your ex Ryan and he doesn’t know she exists?”

“Pretty much,” I said and nodded. Ryan was the best looking boy in school, a star basketball player and sweet to boot. I’d dated him very briefly sophomore year. We weren’t dating anymore but we were friends. Technically, Ryan had dumped me, but he’d only done it because it was pretty obvious I was obsessed with Heathcliff so it’s not like I held it against him. I also was almost a hundred percent sure he was completely over me now. He wasn’t even supposed to be here at Bard this year. He was, technically, a fifth-year senior. The rumor was he was hanging around another year so that he could have more basketball practice and have a better chance for a basketball scholarship. The official reason, however, was that five of his high school credits didn’t transfer to Bard. The amazing part was that Ryan didn’t seem all that upset about having to spend an extra year of his life in high school.

“So Lindsay and I—we don’t talk about prom much.”

 “Prom? God, don’t get me started.” This was my former roommate, Blade, who dumped her tray with a loud clatter on the table next to me. Samir, her boyfriend for the past year, trailed behind her. “I want to rip down every poster I see,” she added, referring to the bright red and yellow flyers that announced the coming of what no one thought possible – the school’s first-ever prom. Somehow, the biggest dance of high school just didn’t seem a good fit for Bard, which happened to be one of strictest reform boarding schools in America. Even now, the Guardians, the thug-like guards of the campus, lined the walls of the cafeteria just to make sure nobody decided to start a fight. The Guardians were like mall security guards, if mall security guards knew a dozen ways to subdue a person—all of them painful. Guardians reminded everyone that there was a steep price if you stepped out of line.

“Why are you in such a mood?” Hana asked Blade, her tone slightly annoyed as she flicked her shiny straight, jet-black hair off her shoulder. Hana’s eyes held just the hint of an almond shape and her skin was smooth and blemish-free, a legacy of her part-Asian heritage. Blade—fair skinned with hair that changed color with every new bottle of dye she bought—scowled. She and Blade didn’t exactly get along, but they were trying—for Samir’s sake. Blade and Samir had a kind of on-again, off-again thing going. And, at the moment, they were on-again.

Hana had been Samir’s best friend but she didn’t exactly approve of his relationship with Blade. I suspected Hana had a crush on Samir she wasn’t talking about, but she always insisted she was fine seeing him date. In theory.

It didn’t help that Blade lived at the intersection of Goth and punk. There was no hair color too wild; no piercing too extreme; no T-shirt too offensive. Hana was nerdy prep girl in her soul and Blade was hardcore rebel and together they were just oil and water. No matter how often you put them together, those two just weren’t going to mix.

“I, for one, can’t wait for Prom. I’m going to rent a tux!” Samir exclaimed, rubbing his hands together.

“Ew—you are not,” Blade declared, dropping her fork with a hard plink on her plate. A bit of unidentified Bard breakfast goo flicked onto the table. “I don’t do proms.”

“Why?” Samir asked.

“Because it’s a ridiculous exercise that’s way outdated. You dance to lame music, binge drink and reinforce old gender stereotypes,” Blade said.

“You
have
to do prom Blade.” Samir stirred the grayish mass of breakfast and took a bite. He made a face, but swallowed anyway.

“Hey, if she says she doesn’t want to do it, then…” Hana didn’t finish her sentence. Everyone at the table knew she’d prefer Blade to stay home.

“How can you not want to go to Prom?” Samir asked Blade, still amazed that his girlfriend—the queen of all things Goth—would actually not want to participate in a conventional tradition like prom.

“Why are you surprised?” Hana asked Samir.

“Why
would
I want to go to prom?” Blade said. She ran a hand over her bright violet hair. The tips were singed a bright orange. She’d also gotten two new nose rings in the last year, and was currently sporting a henna tattoo on her upper right cheek. “There’s the objectification of women, for one.”

“How does prom objectify women?” Hana couldn’t quite keep the annoyance out of her voice.

“How
doesn’t
it? The high heels. The skin-tight sequined dresses. The expectation of putting out.”

“Since when do you care about putting out?” Hana grumbled under her breath, but Blade didn’t hear her. Or chose to ignore her. It was hard to tell which. 

“
Plus
, there’s all that lame music,” Blade finished. “I don’t do Katy Perry.”

“I like Katy Perry,” said Hana. “What’s wrong with Katy Perry?”

“Everything,” Blade said and rolled her eyes.

“You’re just jealous because she did the blue hair and made it popular.” Hana couldn’t help smirking a little.

“I
invented
blue hair,” Blade said.

“I bet you change your mind if you get asked in the right way,” Samir said, and then took a big bite of bacon.

“Ha!” Blade sounded doubtful.

“Miranda, talk some sense into her.” Samir pointed his fork at me.

“Me?” I put a bite of gray gruel in my mouth. It tasted a little bit like watered down Cream of Wheat with a healthy dose of cement. “Why me?”

“Well, I mean, you and Heathcliff are going, aren’t you?” Samir asked me.

I scurried to think of a reason to change the subject. I didn’t feel like talking about Prom and Heathcliff at the moment. “We’re not technically supposed to be dating, remember?”  

“Oh, come on, Headmaster B would probably grant you guys an exception for Prom.” Samir chewed another bite and swallowed it. “I mean, it’s
Prom
.”

Headmaster B ran the school. Before she was Head Ghost and back when she’d been a real live person, people had known her as Charlotte Bronte. Yes,
that
one. The one who wrote
Jane Eyre.
She’d died relatively young, like all the faculty ghosts here, with unfinished business on earth. She, like the others, was stuck in purgatory with a bunch of surly kids who knew every last character on Jersey Shore, but had no idea who Mr. Rochester was.

I had serious doubts that Headmaster B would want to see Heathcliff at Prom at all. I got the impression Headmaster B tolerated Heathcliff because he’d helped save the school last year. But one wrong step and she’d see to it he was gone. 

“Besides,” Samir continued. “She can’t be that heartless. I mean she knows you guys are going to have to…OW! Blade, why did you kick me?” Both Hana and Blade were staring at Samir as he leaned over to rub his knee. “What did I say?”

My friends didn’t want to dwell on the fact that they knew I was supposed to say goodbye to Heathcliff on graduation day.

“It’s okay, guys,” I said.

“Yeah, it’s not like it’s a secret,” Samir pointed out. “Heathcliff has to go back, right? So Headmaster B, maybe she’d allow you one last date?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Headmaster B doesn’t bend rules. For anybody. Especially if it causes a break in the space time continuum or whatever is supposed to happen.”

“Okay, so you can’t have little Heathcliff babies or whatever, but are you going?” Samir pressed. He wasn’t going to give this up until I gave him a real answer.  I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Heathcliff.” I thought about his expression last night and the pain that flickered across his face when I asked him for time to think about his proposal. Eventually, he’d just nodded his head, but he hadn’t said a word as he walked me back to campus. I had a feeling if I didn’t tell him yes, and soon, he wouldn’t feel much like dancing. Not that I blamed him.  I wondered myself why I hesitated. But it was a big decision. I didn’t want to rush it.

As if thinking about him could bring him into existence, I saw Heathcliff walk through the east doors. He was so tall and broad he was easy to spot in the crowd. My eyes followed him as he made his way down the row of tables. His hair looked altogether caress-worthy as it fell in unruly black waves around his ears.

“You mean he’ll have to ask you,” Samir corrected. Blade nearly choked on her bite of breakfast.

“Are you seriously saying that the boy has to ask the girl? You know that this is not the Dark Ages, right?”

“The boy doesn’t
have
to ask,” Samir said, back-peddling fast. Samir came from a conservative Indian family. The reason his family had sent him off to reform school in the first place was that he refused to have his parents arrange a marriage for him when he graduated. It wasn’t a leap to imagine Samir being traditional about Prom.

Heathcliff saw me and turned to walk to our table. I felt my stomach jump in anticipation. He was coming to talk to me. It was a bold move. It was during a school day and in the middle of the cafeteria—but Heathcliff clearly wasn’t in a mood to follow the rules today.  I could tell that by the frown on his face.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Blade exclaimed. “Could Prom be more sexist? I doubt it.”

“It’s not sexist to be asked by a boy you like,” Hana said. Samir nodded his head in agreement. Heathcliff was nearly to our table now. He was so tall.  My mouth went dry and I grabbed my glass of water.

“Are you going to ask for my dowry next?” Blade rolled her eyes and angrily stuffed another gooey bite of lumpy oatmeal into her mouth.

“Is someone getting married?” asked Heathcliff. His black eyes were on me – and only me.

I nearly spit out my drink of water. Instead, I swallowed it down the wrong way and came up coughing. Heathcliff’s expression did not change. Avoiding his glance, I focused on Blade.

“It’s worse than a wedding—it’s prom,” Blade said.

Heathcliff frowned in confusion.

 “They didn’t have proms in 1836,” Hana pointed out.

“Oh, right,” Blade said. “You know, it’s like a dance thingy.”

“Thingy? You mean a ball.” Hana rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. I’m just trying to bring old Cliff up to speed.”

“It’s
Heathcliff
, Blade,” I corrected, once I’d recovered from choking. Heathcliff wasn’t the kind of boy who liked cutesy nicknames. Only Blade would be bold enough to tease him like that. He didn’t acknowledge her, though. 

“He doesn’t mind. Do you Cliff?” Blade gave Heathcliff a big elbow nudge. Heathcliff’s face remained expressionless. It was hard to make him smile.

“You’re insane. If you’re going to do a nickname, you’ve got to go with ‘Heath,’” Hana said. “He looks like a Heath. Not a Cliff. No way.”

“You guys are playing with fire,” I said. But Heathcliff’s mouth quirked up in a smile. Maybe he liked the idea of a modern nickname after all. 

“He’s not kicking anyone’s butt, so I guess we’re okay,” Samir said. Heathcliff had a temper, it was true. But the fact was he’d saved all of us way more often than he’d put us in danger.  He saved my life more than I could count. Sophomore year, I would’ve been burned to a crisp by crazy, pyro Mrs. Rochester. Heathcliff had saved me from her and from many other less-than friendly characters. My friends like to conveniently forget about things like that. They preferred to think of him like a surly ticking time bomb that could explode any second.

 “Leave him alone,” I said, feeling protective.

“Testy,” Blade said. “Cliff knows we’re just kidding, don’t you?”

Heathcliff said nothing. But then, when he was with my friends, he usually didn’t say much. Instead, Heathcliff slid carefully into a seat on the other side of the table from me so we couldn’t touch. He studied me from that distance. I could feel in the look he was giving me that his feelings were still hurt from the night before.

As for me, I was still carrying that acceptance letter in my pocket, wondering what I was going to do about it. I hadn’t told anyone that I’d gotten it yet. 

 “Miranda wants to go to prom, don’t you Miranda?” This was Samir. Heathcliff’s eyes focused on me now.

“Um… actually, I’m not so sure prom
is
a good idea,” I said.

Blade seized on my words. “See? Even Miranda thinks it’s stupid.” Heathcliff was looking at me, carefully studying my expression.

“How can you think prom is stupid?” Samir demanded.

“I didn’t say stupid,” I said.

“I thought you of all people would be really into it,” Hana added.

“Well…” I looked at Heathcliff and tried to imagine pretending we weren’t a couple in a place where everyone was a couple.