Prom Crashers Page 8

When Emily came gliding down the stairs in all her Victorian glory, Danny’s parents whistled. Sid, who stood just to the side of the front door, choked back a laugh.

  “Nice … ,” she sputtered out. Emily cut her off with a loud cough.

  “You,” Danny declared as Emily pulled up her skirts around her ankles to descend the last few steps, “look regal.”

  “Great,” Emily muttered. “Can we just go now?”

  “Portraits! Portraits!” Danny’s mom cried, pulling her camera off the front hall table.

  “Yeah, Emily.” Sid smiled politely. “Don’t forget about pictures. We all want to remember this night.”

  “I’m not so worried,” Emily said, smiling back at her friend. “I think this night may dig itself into my memory book somehow.”

  Sorry, Sid mouthed as Emily was pulled into Danny’s living room for pictures.

  Emily shook her head in response and shrugged. Out loud she said, “I can handle it.”

  She obligingly trudged to the front of the fireplace, where Danny had assembled an old wooden chair and a musket. He motioned for her to sit, while he stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other holding the musket. She pursed her lips, posing in the most “regal” style she could muster. Danny beamed behind her.

  Emily knew the subdued snickering was coming from Sid, who stood in the door of the living room next to her shy—but otherwise normal—date, Jeremy. Emily gave herself up to the moment, posing and preening in her costume to the best of her ability. Soon the photos were over, and Danny, whose boundless energy was somewhat startling, flounced over to the window.

  Danny pulled a curtain aside and glanced outside He turned back to address Emily, Sid and her date, and his parents. His face was flushed. “It’s here!”

  “What’s here?” Emily asked, praying that his answer would be “An alien ship to take me away.” Danny ignored her question and led them all outside. At the end of Danny’s long driveway, parked between two garden gnomes, was a horse-drawn carriage.

  “Everybody in!” he cried. “Action!”

  Looking at each other, Sid and Emily couldn’t stop themselves from cracking up. Emily shook with laughter, her chest pressing against confines of her corset. Sid hopped onto the seat next to Emily’s and shouted, “Giiiiiiddy-up!”

  As they trotted away from Danny’s parents’ house, Emily whispered to Sidney the question she’d been turning over in her mind: “What do I do if Ethan is at this prom?”

  Sid linked arms with Emily and whispered back, “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Because honestly, it might be best if you don’t reintroduce yourself while wearing a corset.”

  By the time the horse-drawn carriage delivered them to the front door of the Legends Ballroom—a long, chilly forty-five minutes after leaving Danny’s house—Emily had numbed to the idea that she might run into Ethan in full costume.

  If possible, she wouldn’t let it happen. But if she did spot him, she would simply avoid him while somehow finding out his last name. Then she could track him down later.

  Emily was a do-something-daring-and- unexpected kind of girl, like streaking through a cow field on a cold, snowy night in nothing but winter boots; or breaking into the condemned Elk Park Elementary school just for the thrill of it; or crashing proms to find a guy. But wearing a Victorian gown to a prom with three hundred attendees was definitely taking things one step further. This wasn’t adventurous … it was just plain embarrassing.

  She stepped out of the carriage after Danny and followed her date into the building amid stares and whispers. Danny puffed up his chest, adjusted his white wig, and pulled his tickets and school ID from his wallet. Clearly Danny was pretty comfortable in his own skin. He wasn’t even reacting to the stares. Emily couldn’t help but admire his unwavering self-confidence.

  After passing security—which included a metal detector (Danny had to hand over his cane) and a swift pat down (it took two female guards to lift all of Emily’s skirts to check for contraband)—Danny swept the door of the ballroom open for Emily, leading her into the crowded prom.

  She and Sid were in.

  The first thing Emily saw when she stepped into the room was the movie star and his date. Joey and Simone were crouched at a table near the dance floor, surrounded by teachers and parents. The students at Thomas Jefferson were mostly leaving them alone, but the same couldn’t be said for the parents, who were all smiling at them and leaning in to hear Joey and Simone’s conversation. Joey gestured to one of his friends, who shimmied across the dance floor to greet him. Joey whispered a few quick words in his friend’s ear, then the friend shouted to some unseen person across the room, “Hey, Morris, how’s that beer bong?”

  All the parents and teachers quickly hurried off in the direction of the supposed infraction. Joey gave his buddy a quick high five to thank him for getting rid of the chaperone huddle.

  Danny, who had noticed Emily staring at Joey, scoffed. “That guy’s a total fake,” he declared, not even remotely, concerned about who might hear him.

  “Pardon?” Emily said, trying to stay in character. She had developed a character accent and language during their carriage ride to the ballroom. As she had told Sid, it helped make the bizarre situation a little more amusing for her.

  “That guy—Joey.” Danny gestured to Danny and Simone. “He’s a terrible actor. He didn’t even make the chorus in our sophomore year musical. He can’t sing, dance, or act. He just looks pretty.”

  “I don’t think he’s that bad.” Emily shrugged. “I really liked The Hunt.”

  “Of course you did. Every girl loves Joey Frank.” Danny rolled his eyes. “I assume you want an introduction?”

  “To Joey?”

  Danny nodded. “Isn’t that the reason you wanted to come to my prom? I’m not stupid, you know. I know you just wanted an in so you could meet ’the movie star.’” He made finger quotes and waved casually in Danny’s directly. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  “No,” Emily said, shaking her head. “I’m not at all interested in meeting Joey.”

  “Ohhhh,” Danny said, nodding slowly. “You’re obsessed with Simone, huh? That’s cool. I don’t know her, though.”

  “Danny, I’m not interested in meeting either of them.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  Emily considered for a moment, and realized it wouldn’t hurt if she let Danny in on their plan. He actually seemed pretty cool now that she was getting used to him, and if he was okay with the fact that she had, presumably, just come as his date to meet Joey Frank, how mad could he be that she had a different mission? “I’m here to find a guy,” she said finally. She glanced across the room and saw Sid and Jeremy chatting at a table on the edge of the dance floor. Sid looked relatively content.

  Danny laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re a serial promist.” He laughed harder. “Do you use proms as, like, an alternative to online dating or something?”

  “No! It’s not like that!” Now Emily was laughing as she tried to defend herself. She filled Danny in on how she had met Ethan, and the prom crashing mission.

  “So how many proms have you been to?” he asked when she had finished.

  “This is number four.”

  “Four? You’ve been to four proms?” Danny whistled. “I’m impressed. How many do you have left?”

  “After tonight, we have three left to crash.”

  “Wow. I wish I’d known this was the reason you wanted to come to prom with me,” Danny said. “I probably would have scaled back the costume stuff.”

  Emily groaned. “Seriously? Did you make me dress like this just to punish me for using you to get to Joey and Simone?”

  “A little,” Danny confessed. “I’ve always wanted to come to prom in costume, though, so it worked out pretty well for me. It’s always fun to surprise and shock peopleeveryone’s so uptight at this school, I shake it up by doing things differently. But I guess I did put a little extra act on just to see how bad
you wanted to be here. You passed the test.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “I guess I did.” Emily looked down at her gown and grinned again. “You know what, Danny? I’m glad I came—even the ridiculous costume isn’t so bad. You’re right about people being uptight—everyone was totally staring when we got here.”

  He nodded. “You think I didn’t notice? I’ve gotten used to it. Sometimes you just have to do things your way, and realize that not everyone is going to approve. That’s sort of my motto. It’s helped me survive the past four years—you think it’s easy being the weird guy?”

  “No, I can’t imagine it is. But you seem to be pretty comfortable with who you are.”

  “Now,” Danny agreed. “But when I was a freshman and sophomore, I definitely cared a lot more.” He broke off. “Wait a second—what’s the name of this guy you’re looking for? We have a mission to complete tonight, right?”

  “You’ll help?” Emily asked. “His name is Ethan.”

  “Of course I’ll help. Now, let’s see … Ethan …” Danny looked around. “You know what? There’s one guy named Ethan at Thomas Jefferson—a senior.” He started to lead Emily around the room. Weaving through tables of couples, Emily could feel eyes turning to look at her and Danny as they passed. The staring didn’t bother her nearly as much as she would have expected. But then again, it wasn’t her school, and they weren’t her classmates. Emily really admired Danny’s confidence.

  A few minutes of meandering—and many, many curious looks—later, Danny stopped suddenly, subtly pointing toward a full table of couples. “There. Is that him?”

  Emily squinted. She moved closer so she could see more clearly. The one guy with his back to them …

  “Is it him?” she whispered to no one in particular. It was possible. Her memory was fuzzy, but the tousled hair, the lean, strong muscles … yes, definitely possible. She stepped to the side of the table to get a better look at his face, and as she did, the guy leaned in and kissed his date tenderly on the neck. Her stomach sank.

  Suddenly the guy turned and looked at her. He was smiling, and a mouth full of braces glinted up at her. Her stomach leaped, realizing that it wasn’t Ethan. She was torn between relief (that kiss!) and disappointment (would she ever find him?!). Turning back to Danny, she shook her head.

  “No?” he asked, looking as disappointed as Emily felt.

  “No,” she repeated. “But that’s okay. There are other proms.” Emily and Danny walked toward Sid and Jeremy, who were still sitting and chatting.

  Sid looked up as they approached. “Hey, Em.” She smiled. Emily could tell Sid was having a decent time, despite her distaste for prom. “Any luck?” she asked quietly.

  “He’s not here,” Emily replied. “Are you having a good time?”

  Sid shrugged. “It’s not as bad as it could be.” She looked at Jeremy, who was chatting with Danny. “He’s nice.”

  “Yeah,” Emily agreed. “So is Danny. I think tonight may not be a total bust,” she declared. Suddenly Emily wanted to dance more than anything. She had never danced in skirts and a bustle before.

  Fighting against her protestations, Emily dragged Sid off her chair and pulled her toward the dance floor. She beckoned to Danny and Jeremy, and they followed.

  Hearing Danny’s words echoing through her head, Emily let everyone’s stares pass right through her. After all, she reasoned, what fun is dressing in costume if I don’t make the most of it? Caught up in their own semi-Victorian world on the dance floor, the four of them were among the last to leave.

  Nine

  E: u there?

  M: Maybe.

  E: can I get a ride 2 charlies?

  M: Yeah. How was prom w. Danny?

  E: super nice guy, surreal prom.

  M: Details?

  E: in the car. can we leave soon? My sister is driving me insane.

  M: ??

  E: she and mom are discussing their “perfect prom night.” i do not lie.

  M: Nice. I assume this conversation is for your benefit?

  E: probably a safe guess, meet u in your front yard in 10?

  M: Righty-o.

  ✭

  “Her costume wasn’t bad.” Sid laughed. She plucked an E string on her guitar, giving it a final twist into tune.

  “You honestly wore a corset to prom?” Max had already asked Emily this question three times, and gotten the same answer three times.

  Emily nodded her head again, taking a swig of her root beer. “That I did.”

  Max, Emily, and Charlie were all sitting on amps in the back room of Think, a lowlit club in the Warehouse District downtown. The postprom party for Ridley Prep was about to get under way, and they were helping Sid prepare for her set. As Sid tuned and sound-checked, pretending not to be nervous, Emily entertained the others with the details of their prom the night before. From the preprom portraits to the dance itself, she spared no details.

  “And,” Emily said, “I’m happy to report that Ethan was not at the Thomas Jefferson prom. So the costume didn’t really hurt anyone. It was actually a blast.”

  “A successful prom number four!” Charlie declared. “I can’t believe I didn’t get to go.”

  “Trust me, you didn’t miss much.” Sid was leaning over her guitar, strumming a few chords. She looked up briefly and caught Emily’s eye. “Okay, it was pretty fun.”

  Charlie pointed at her and declared, “You’re totally getting into it!”

  Sid cracked a smile. “Well, it’s better than studying.”

  “Right?” Emily said, not expecting any kind of answer. “This has definitely been fun. But there are only two more proms to crash after tonight! If Ethan doesn’t go to Ridley Prep—which we’ll find out tonight—then we have one more weekend of crashing. And the hardest target is up next.”

  “What’s next?” Max asked, swirling his soda around his cup to create a mini liquid tornado. “And are you sure you want to keep doing this? Is this guy really worth it?”

  Charlie scoffed. “Are you suggesting we stop now?!” He slapped Max on the head. “Are you crazy? This is just getting good.”

  “Do you guys want out?” Emily asked. She was totally addicted to the thrill of their mission now, and hadn’t realized Max might be having doubts. She was almost happy they hadn’t found her crush at one of the first proms, because then they wouldn’t have had an excuse to keep crashing. She continued, “Because I can crash the rest of the proms alone.” She crossed her arms. “Not that that would be any fun at all.” Emily scooted over to her cousin’ amp and squeezed in next to him, laying her head on his shoulder. “At least I know I have Charlie to keep me company, right, cuz? It’s the boat prom next…”

  “You bet!” Charlie declared, wrapping his arm around Emily. “I love crashing proms. I can think of no better cure for senior slide than a challenging and dramatic mission. We’re like Tom Cruise in Mission: Impossible, but before he went all crazy and was still just a slightly too-old action star.” Emily hugged him back.

  Sid looked up from her guitar. “Are you kidding? I was sort of enjoying myself until you compared us to Tom Cruise. Now I’m just offended.” She shook her head. “But I have to admit—after last night, I’m totally hooked. I am so in for the rest of the proms.”

  Both Charlie and Emily looked at Max expectantly. He shrugged. “What? It’s prom. They’re all the same.”

  “Really?” Emily asked, surprised and more than a little disappointed. “You’re not having fun?”

  Max held his hands up in a surrender motion. “I was just saying!” he said, then cracked into his dimpled smile. “But yes, I’m having fun. And definitely still in. Besides, there’s a story to be sold after all of this, remember?”

  “Good! We’re all in!” Emily beamed. “How is your story going, Max? Do you need anything from us?”

  Charlie ran his fingers through his hair and offered, “Let me know if you need a physical character description of me for the article. I’d like to make sure
you describe me as dapper and striking.”

  Max shook his head. “That was the plan, Charlie. Just keep your charming personalities and stories coming, and I should be all set. The story’s good so far.”

  “Great,” Emily declared, then shifted into planning mode. “So next Friday and Saturday night, we have the last two prom crashes. First up is Northwestern’s, boat prom on Friday night, followed by East on Saturday. If we can get into Northwestern, we’re genius.”

  “Is it that guarded?” Max asked.

  “This is going to be our toughest target,” Emily explained, leaning forward. The first prom after-party attendees had begun to stream into the front of Think, and the music had been turned up to compete with the crowd. She raised her voice and continued, “We all know Northwestern is the richest school in the city. We also know that they rent out the Queen Mary yacht every year for their prom. I guess things usually get cooking while they’re still docked at the pier on Lake Windham—the whole school piles onboard for their four-course meal, live band, the works. From what I’ve heard, the school principal personally greets every person boarding the boat. Then the boat takes off—sans principal—and it’s just drunken debauchery.”

  “Debauchery is a great word, Em,” Charlie interrupted.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  Max interrupted her at this point. “I got a little info from one of the writers at Buzz.” Buzz was the online paper that Max wrote reviews for. “Since almost all of the city’s VIPs’—that’s very important politicians’—kids go to Northwestern, most of the silliness on the boat is pretty much overlooked by the cops. The bigwigs don’t want bad press, so they beg their buddies in the local precincts to turn a blind eye.” Max shifted on his amp, getting into his story. “Rumor has it that at least half the school gets puke-up-your-dinner drunk, and things get completely out of control. Most years they have to dock early for fear of someone falling overboard.”

  “Good info, my man.” Charlie nodded appreciatively. “So the question is, how are we going to get on that boat?”

  Sid looked up from her guitar. “Someone needs to get a job on the Queen Mary. We need an insider.”