“
No one
’
s going to ask because my eyes are going to be fixed on you all night. They
’
ll know from one glance that you
’
re the only one I
’
m interested in.
”
He looks over at me and lifts his thumb to my ear, dragging it slowly down my neck, over my collarbone, stopping at the top of the dress.
“
I don
’
t think that will stop anyone.
”
“
Well, then, surely the kissing will be a deterrent.
”
“
The kissing?
”
“
Yes. No one wants to bother two people making out in public.
”
He lets out a hearty laugh.
“
Is that what we
’
re going to do tonight?
”
“
I hope so,
”
I admit.
“
I didn
’
t get this dressed up to have you admire me from afar.
”
“
Well, I can promise you I won
’
t keep my hands off of you.
”
He puts his hand on my thigh and takes some of the chiffon between his fingers. I touch his fingers with mine.
“
Are you having any second thoughts?
”
he asks me, catching me off guard.
I stare ahead, watching the traffic in front of us. I shrug my shoulders to answer him, and am fortunate that he happened to be looking in my direction at that moment.
“
Yeah?
”
“
A little.
”
“
What
’
s up?
”
“
No,
”
I tell him, not wanting to admit the feelings I
’
m having. And it
’
s not just where he
’
s taking me. I just feel like–if this happens–I won
’
t be Daddy
’
s little girl anymore, and as silly as it sounds, I don
’
t want to give that up. Not tonight, anyway. I touch the headband with my hand, remembering the way he looked at me.
Why the rush?
“
No, you
’
re not having second thoughts?
”
“
Well, it
’
s just that...
”
I decide to tell him about my apprehension toward the hotel.
“
Jon, I don
’
t want to sound like a little brat, but–
”
“
The Manhattanite?
”
he asks, cutting me off.
“
Kind of.
”
“
I wondered when you
’
d ever bring that up,
”
he says with a smile in his eyes.
“
I wouldn
’
t dream of taking you there for our first time.
”
“
Well, where?
”
“
There
’
s a new, small hotel in the Upper East Side. It
’
s really nice. I went by there earlier this week to make sure their advertisements weren
’
t exaggerated.
”
“
You didn
’
t have to do that.
”
“
I wanted to, Olivia. I want this to be perfect.
”
“
Okay,
”
I concede, looking away from him.
“
Me, too.
”
The hotel has a valet, so Jon hands him the keys after he helps me out of the car. He cups my hand in his and leads me inside. Even though I
’
m wearing insanely high heels, he seems taller tonight, his posture straighter, his confidence obvious.
He politely greets a few of the teachers at a table in front of the ballroom.
“
Jon Scott and Olivia Choisie,
”
he tells them, straining to look at the guest list. When he sees our names–or at least his name and the one he
’
d given for me–he points it out on the list. An older man in an old suit crosses off our names and gives each of us a program.
“
Olivia Choisie, huh?
”
“
It
’
s got a nice ring to it, right?
”
“
You
’
ve thought of everything, haven
’
t you?
”
“
Well, I just didn
’
t want anyone on the prom council seeing your real name on the list. I thought it might turn into a circus.
”
“
Like I said. You
’
ve thought of everything.
”
When he introduces me to a few of his friends and classmates, he puts his arm firmly around my waist, and I like the way it feels. I feel like I
’
m protected and safe. I feel like I belong to him. I like that feeling.
Looking around the room, I do feel a bit overdressed, but I wouldn
’
t have chosen a short, bright dress like the ones most of the other girls wear. Tonight is too special. When I walk across the room to the dance floor, my arm locked in Jon
’
s, I feel like royalty.
I
’
m poised and comfortable and graceful, and happy to be Jon
’
s date–and girlfriend.
We dance to a lot of the songs, including every popular ballad that the DJ plays, looking around the room in between lengthy stares and kisses that are growing more and more intimate as the night wears on. Our last one is interrupted by a chaperone
’
s tap on both of our shoulders.
We decide to take a break, going to the back of the ballroom to get a drink. A few of his friends follow us, and we grab a table and talk about what everyone
’
s doing after prom. One of the guys is having a party in his hotel room, and he invites us to come, promising beer and some college girls he had invited.
“
Yeah, maybe we
’
ll stop by,
”
Jon says. As the friends continue discussing their plans, Jon leans into me and whispers in my ear.
“
Don
’
t worry, we
’
re not.
”
“
It
’
s okay if you want to,
”
I tell him.
“
Just for a bit, you know?
”
He pulls back and looks me square in the eyes, confused.
“
I don
’
t want to,
”
he affirms.
“
Why, do you?
”
“
No,
”
I tell him, shaking my head.
“
Okay.
”
He jumps back into their conversation, and I hear their dates speaking softly amongst themselves.
“
It has to be her,
”
one of them says, looking at her cell phone. I try to act like I
’
m participating in the guys
’
conversation, but keep my ears attuned to the girls.
“
What did he say her name was?
”
another asks.
“
I think he said Olivia. Livvy? It
’
s her.
”
“
Hey, Jon, I love this song,
”
I tell him, rudely interrupting him mid-sentence.
“
Can we go dance?
”
He looks at me, surprised, but catches on quickly.
“
Sure, let
’
s go.
”
When we reach the dance floor again, he puts his hands on my waist.
“
You okay?
”
he asks.
“
Yeah. I think our time here is running out. Those girls figured out who I am.
”
“
Don
’
t worry about them. But if you
’
re ready to go, we can go. Anytime.
”
“
I
’
m okay,
”
I tell him, kissing him sweetly.
He looks down at me, his eyes locked with mine. He moves one hand from my waist and lifts it to my hair, touching the headband.
“
Your dad is right,
”
he says.
“
With this tiara, you do look like a princess.
”
“
Tiara,
”
I laugh.
“
It
’
s just a headband.
”
“
So, you
’
re going to tell me, when you went out and tried this on, you didn
’
t think to yourself,
‘
Wow! I look like a princess!
?
’”
I laugh at his impression of me.
“
I didn
’
t buy it. And in fact, I
’
ve only glanced at myself for a few seconds with it on. Does it look pretentious?
”
I ask him.
“
No, it looks stunning. Did your mom buy it for you?
”
“
My dad gave it to me,
”
I tell him with a sad smile, looking away from him. I straighten his crooked tie, once more remembering the painting I
’
d given to my father and his obvious appreciation of it. Jon pulls my head into his chest as we move slowly to the song, and I reflect back once more to the night I
’
d met my parents.
After tugging on his snowflake tie, I remember how he straightened the plastic tiara I
’
d been wearing that night as I talked to him about what I wanted for Christmas. I wasn
’
t just wearing the plastic, beaded bracelets. I
’
d forgotten about that tiara, and begin to laugh to myself. In one simple gesture, the gift of one small, beautiful headband, he
’
d brought back his little Contessa, for at least one more night.
The last night as his princess.
I feel a pang in my chest, as if my heart is aching.
I look up at Jon and tuck the headband into my hair, securing it in place.
“
It
is
a tiara, isn
’
t it?
”
I ask him. I can feel the tears form in my eyes.
“
Your daddy
’
s princess.
”
Jon starts to see my train of thought. I simply nod.
“
He
’
s
good
.
”
“
What do you mean?
”
I ask with a laugh.
“
You
’
re not going to let me take you to the hotel tonight, are you?
”
I shake my head, waiting to see the disappointment on his face.
“
Well, milady,
”
he says with a formal accent,
“
when you
’
re ready to give this toad a chance, I think I just might become the prince of your dreams.
”
“
Stop it,
”
I tell him playfully.
“
You already are. And your patience will be handsomely rewarded,
”
I tell him with an air of nobility.
“
I want you. I want all of my firsts to be with you.
”
“
I want all of my lasts to be with you,
”
he says as he cradles my face in his warm hands, pulling my face to his for a kiss.