Prom Nights from Hell Page 7

  “Yep,” I said, edging away in time with the music when his hand tried to creep to my waist. “Still don’t want to dance.”

  “Something to drink?” he tried again, and I cocked my hip, crossing my arms to hide my cleavage. I was still waiting for the boob fairy to show up, but the dress’s corset shoved everything up and together to make it look like I had more than I did, making me self-conscious.

  “No, thanks,” I said with a sigh. He probably didn’t hear me, but he got the gist, seeing as he looked away, watching everyone move. Long ballroom gowns and skimpy barmaid costumes mixed with swashbuckling pirates and sailors. That was the theme of the prom. Pirates. God! I had worked for two months on the prom committee at my old school. It was going to have been freaking fantastic, with a moonlit barge and a real band, but no-o-o-o. Mom had said Dad needed to spend time with me. That he was going through a midlife crisis and had to reconnect with something from his past that didn’t involve arguing. I think she just got scared when she caught me sneaking out for a late cappuccino and shipped me back to Dad and Dullsville USA knowing I listened to him more than her. Okay, so it had been after midnight. And I might have been after more than caffeine. And yeah, I’d already been grounded from staying out too late the previous weekend, but that’s why I had to sneak out.

  Running the stiff lace of my colonial dress between my fingers, I wondered if any of these people had a clue what a real party looked like. Maybe they didn’t care.

  Josh was standing a little in front of me, bobbing his head in time with the music and clearly wanting to dance. Nearby at the food table was the guy who had skulked in after us. He was looking my way, and I gave him a stare, wondering if he was after me or Josh. Seeing my attention on him, the guy turned away.

  My gaze fell back on Josh, who had begun to almost dance halfway between me and the moving people. Actually, I mused as he shifted and bobbed his head to the music, his costume made his thin, awkward height work for him—a traditional British general’s red and white, complete with fake sword and epaulets. His father’s idea, probably, since he was the VIP of VIPs at the research facility that had kept everyone employed when the military base moved to Arizona, but it did go with the overdone lace-and-corset thing I had on.

  “Come on. Everyone else is dancing,” he coaxed when he saw me look at him, and I shook my head, almost feeling sorry for him. He reminded me of the guys in the photography club pretending the darkroom door had locked to try to get a little action. It just wasn’t fair. I had spent three years learning how to fit in with the cool chicks, and now I was right back with the nice but unpopular guys, mowing down cupcakes in the gym. And on my birthday, too.

  “No,” I said flatly. Translation: Sorry, I’m not interested. You may as well give up.

  Even thick-headed, awkward, broken-glasses Josh got that one, and he stopped his almost-dancing to fix his blue eyes on me. “Jesus, you’re a bitch, you know that? I only asked you out because my dad made me. If you want to dance, I’ll be over there.”

  My breath caught, and I gaped at him as if he had punched me in the gut. He cockily raised his eyebrows and walked away with his hands in his pockets and his chin raised. Two girls parted so he could walk between them, and they hunched into each other in his wake, gossiping as they glanced at me.

  Oh my God. I’m a pity date. Blinking fast, I held my breath as I fought to keep the room from going blurry. Crap, not only was I the new girl, but I was a freaking pity date! My dad had made nice to his boss, and he made his son ask me out.

  “Son of a dead puppy,” I whispered, wondering if everyone was looking at me or if it was just my imagination. I tucked my short blond hair behind my ear and backed to the wall. Leaning against it with my arms crossed, I tried to pretend Josh had gone to get some pop. Inside, I was dying. I had been dumped. No, I had been dumped by a geek.

  “Way to go, Madison,” I said sourly, just imagining the gossip on Monday. I spotted Josh at the food table, pretending to ignore me without being obvious about it. The guy in the sailor outfit who had followed us in was talking to him. I still didn’t think he was one of Josh’s friends, even though he was jostling his elbow and pointing at the girls dancing in dresses cut too low for the gyrating they were doing. That I didn’t recognize him wasn’t surprising since I’d been avoiding everyone for the simple reason I wasn’t happy being here and I didn’t mind anyone knowing it.

  I wasn’t a jock or a nerd—though I had belonged to the photography club back home. Despite my efforts, I apparently didn’t fit with the Barbie dolls. And I wasn’t a goth, brain, druggie, or one of the kids who wanted to play scientist like their mommies or daddies at the research facility. I didn’t fit anywhere.

  Correction, I thought as Josh and the sailor laughed. I fit with the bitches.

  The guy followed Josh’s attention to another group of girls, who were now giggling at something Josh had said. His brown hair was frizzed out under his sailor’s cap, and his crisp white outfit made him look like all the other guys who’d chosen sailor over pirate. He was tall, and there was a smooth grace to his movements that said he’d quit growing. He looked older than me, but he couldn’t be too much older. It was the prom.

  And I don’t have to be here, I thought suddenly, shoving myself away from the wall with my elbows. Josh was my ride home, but my dad would pick me up if I called.

  My motion to weave through the crowd to the double doors slowed in worry. He’d ask why Josh wasn’t bringing me home. It would all come out. The lecture to be nice and fit in I could deal with, but the embarrassment…

  Josh was watching me when I glanced up. The guy with him was trying to get his attention, but Josh’s eyes were on mine. Mocking me.

  That did it. No way was I going to call my dad. And I wasn’t getting into a car with Josh, either. I’d walk it. All five miles. In heels. And a long cotton dress. On a damp April night. With my boobs scrunched together. What was the worst that could happen? A runaway cow incident? Crap, I really missed my car.

  “Way to go, girl,” I muttered, gathering my resolution along with my dress, head down as my shoulders bumped into dancers on my way to the door. I was so out of here. People were talking, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need friends. Friends were overrated.

  The music melted into something fast, and I brought my attention up when the crowd seemed to shift, awkwardly changing rhythm. I jerked to a stop when I realized I was a step away from running into someone. “Sorry!” I shouted over the music, then froze, staring. Holy crap, Mr. Sexy Pirate Captain. Where had he been the last three weeks, and were there more where he came from?

  I’d never seen him before. Not in the entire time I’d been stuck in this town. I would have remembered. Maybe exerted myself a little more. Flushing, I dropped my skirt to move my hand to cover my cleavage. God, I felt like a British tart with everything shoved up like that. The guy was dressed in a clingy black pirate costume, a pendant of gray stone lying on his chest. I could see it where the collar parted. A Zorro-style mask hid his upper face. The wide silk tails of it trailed down his back to mix with his luscious wavy black hair. He stood taller than me by about five inches, and as I ran my gaze over his tight figure, I wondered where he’d been keeping himself.

  Certainly not the band room or Mrs. Fairel’s U.S. Government class, I thought as the spinning lights played over him.

  “My apologies,” he said, taking my hand, and my breath caught, not because he was touching me, but because his accent wasn’t Midwestern. Sort of a slow, soft exhalation laced with a crisp preciseness that told of taste and sophistication. I could almost hear the clink of crystal and soft laughter in it, the comforting sounds that more often than not had lulled me to sleep as the waves pushed on the beach.

  “You aren’t from around here,” I blurted as I leaned to hear him better.

  A smile grew, his dusky skin and dark hair almost a balm, so familiar amid the pale faces and light hair of the Midwestern prison I was in. “I’m here
temporarily,” he said. “An exchange student, in a manner of speaking. Same as you.” He glanced disdainfully at the people moving around us with little rhythm and even less originality. “There are too many cows here, don’t you think?”

  I laughed, praying I didn’t sound like a brainless flake. “Yes!” I almost shouted, pulling him down to talk into his ear over the noise. “But I’m not an exchange student. I moved here from Florida. My mom lives out there on the inner coastal, but now I’m stuck here with my dad. I agree. You’re right, it’s awful. At least you get to go home.”

  And where is home, Mr. Sexy Pirate?

  A hint of low tide and canal water drifted to me, rising from him like a memory. And though some might find it unpleasant, tears pricked at my eyes. I missed my old school. I missed my car. I missed my friends. Why had Mom gone so ballistic?

  “Home, yes,” he said, and an intoxicating smile showed a hint of tongue when he licked his lips and straightened. “We should leave the floor. We’re in the way of their…dancing.”

  My heart pounded harder. I didn’t want to move. He might go away, or worse, someone might slip their arm into his, claiming him. “Do you want to dance?” I said, nervous. “It’s not what I’m used to, but it has a good beat.”

  His smile widened, and relief sent my pulse faster. Oh God. I think he likes me. Letting go of my hand, he nodded, and then dropped back a step and started to move.

  For a moment, I forgot to follow and just watched him. He wasn’t flamboyant. No, he went the other way—his slow movements making far more of an impact than if he had cleared the floor by spinning me around it.

  Seeing me watching, he smiled from behind his mysterious mask and blue-gray eyes as he held out a hand for me to join him. I took a breath, my fingers slipping into his warm ones, and let him pull me into motion.

  The music was the framework he moved within, and I lost myself trying to match the pattern of it. Almost swaying, we shifted at every second beat. I let myself relax and just dance, finding it easier if I didn’t think about it. I could feel every shift of my hips and roll of my shoulders—and a thrill of something began to grow inside me.

  While everyone around us continued with sharp, fast motions, we danced slow, the space between us narrowing, our gazes fixing more and more on each other as I became increasingly sure of myself. I let him guide me as the music pulsed and my heart pounded with it.

  “Most everyone here calls me Seth,” he said, almost ruining the moment, but then his hand curved lightly about my waist, and I leaned into him. Oh yeah. This was better.

  “Madison,” I said, liking how I felt, dancing slower than everyone else. But the music was fast, thumping to make my blood race. The two extremes made it seem all the more daring. “I haven’t seen you around. Are you a senior?”

  Seth’s fingers tightened on the light cotton of my dress, or perhaps he was just drawing me closer. “I’m top of my class,” he said, leaning so he wouldn’t have to shout.

  The colored lights played upon him, and I felt airy. Josh could suck an egg for all I cared. This was what my prom should be. “That would explain it,” I said, tilting my head to see his eyes and try to place him. “I’m a junior.”

  He smiled with his lips closed, and I felt small and protected. My own smile grew. I could feel people starting to watch us, their dancing slowing as they turned. I hoped Josh was getting a good look. Call me a bitch, would he?

  I lifted my chin, daring to reach out and pull Seth near, our bodies touching, then moving apart. My heart hammered at what I was doing, but I wanted to hurt Josh. I wanted the gossip tomorrow to be what an idiot he had been to walk away from me. I wanted…something.

  Seth’s hands slid smoothly at my waist, neither imprisoning nor demanding, freeing me to dance as I wanted, and I let myself go, motions turning more sultry than these backwoods bumpkins had seen anywhere but on their TV. My lips twitched when I saw Josh and that sailor kid he’d been talking with all this time. Josh’s face was white with anger, and I simpered back.

  “You want him to know you aren’t with him?” Seth said wistfully, and my gaze jerked to his. “He hurt you,” Seth said, and his dark hand left tingles where it touched my chin. “You should show him what he lost.”

  The moment balanced, and though I knew it was spiteful, I found myself nodding.

  Seth eased to a halt, pulling me into him with a smooth, unbroken gesture. He was going to kiss me. I knew it. It was in every motion he made. My pulse hammered, and I tilted my head up to meet his lips with my own, feeling my knees lock. Around us, people slowed to watch, some laughing, some envious. My eyes closed, and I shifted my weight so that we were still dancing as we kissed.

  It was everything I wanted. Heat washed into me where we touched, spilling down through me like layers, each flaring up as his touch grew closer. Never had I been kissed like this, and I couldn’t breathe, afraid I’d ruin it. My hands were at his waist, and they held him tighter as he cupped my jaw, holding me as if I might break. He tasted like wood smoke. I wanted more—but boy, did I know better.

  A low sound lifted from him, softer than distant thunder. His hands tightened, and adrenaline spiked through me. The kiss had shifted.

  Alarmed, I jerked back, breathless but feeling bright-eyed and exhilarated. Seth’s moody eyes were fixed on mine with a light amusement that I had pulled away.

  “It’s only a game,” he said. “He’s wiser, now. So are you. He’s not worth pain.”

  I blinked as the lights spun madly and the music continued, loud and untouched by our kiss. Everything was different, but only I had changed. I tore my gaze from Seth, my hand still on his waist for balance. There were spots of color on Josh’s cheeks, and he looked angry.

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Let’s go,” I said, linking my arm with Seth’s. I didn’t think anyone would show up to challenge my position. Not after that kiss.

  Confident, I stepped forward with Seth beside me. A path opened, and I felt like a queen. Though the music thumped and blared, everyone watched us make our way unimpeded to the double doors with their brown-paper wrappings decorated to look like the oak doors of a castle.

  Plebeians, I thought when Seth pushed open the door and the cooler air of the hallway hit me. The door closed behind us, and the music dulled. I slowed to a stop, low heels scuffing on the tile. There was a paper-cloth-covered table against the wall with a tired-looking woman checking tickets. Farther down the hall three kids loitered at the main door. The memory of our kiss rose back through me, making me suddenly nervous. This guy was gorgeous. Why was he with me?

  “Thank you,” I mumbled, glancing up and away, then warmed as I wondered if he might think I was talking about the kiss. “I mean, for getting me out of there with my pride intact,” I added, flushing deeper.

  “I saw what he did.” Seth rocked us into motion down the hallway away from everyone and to the parking lot. “It was either that or you dumping punch on his clothes. And you…” He hesitated until I looked at him. “You want your revenge more subtle than that.”

  A sloppy grin came over me, but I couldn’t help it. “You think?”

  He inclined his head, acting far older than he should. “Do you have a ride home?”

  I jerked to a stop, and he continued a step before turning, his blue-gray eyes wide in alarm. It was cool out here, and I told myself that was why I had a sudden chill.

  “I’m…sorry,” he said, blinking and holding himself still. “I didn’t mean…I’ll stay with you while you arrange for someone to come. You don’t know me from Adam.”

  “No, it’s not that,” I rushed, embarrassed for my sudden mistrust. I glanced back at the woman by the gym door who was watching us with an idle interest. “I should call my dad, is all. Let him know what’s going on.”

  Seth smiled, his white teeth showing strongly. “Of course.”

  I fumbled for the purse that this dress had come with. He moved away a few feet as I dug out my phone and fidgeted, tr
ying to remember the house’s number. There was no answer, and we both turned at the noise of the gym door opening. Josh came out, and my jaw tightened.

  The answering machine picked up, and in a rush, I blurted, “Hi, Dad. It’s Madison.” Duh. “I’m getting a ride home with Seth…” I looked at him in question for a last name.

  “Adamson,” he said softly, his eyes behind his mask fixed on Josh. Damn, he had beautiful eyes. And long, luscious eyelashes.

  “Seth Adamson,” I said. “Josh turned out to be a jerk. I’ll be home in a few minutes, okay?” But since no one was really there, there wasn’t much my dad could say. I waited as if listening for a moment, then added, “I’m fi-i-i-ine. He was a jerk, is all. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  Satisfied, I closed the phone and tucked it away, linking my arm through Seth’s and turning us to the back doors as Josh caught up, his dress shoes clacking on the tile.

  “Madison…” He was annoyed, and my satisfaction grew.

  “Hi, Josh!” I said brightly, my tension rising as he fell into step on my other side. I didn’t look at him, and I felt myself go hot. “I got a ride home. Thanks.” For nothing, I added in my thoughts, still mad at him. Or my dad, maybe, for setting this up.

  “Madison, wait.”

  He caught my elbow, and I spun to a halt. Josh froze, pulling back and letting go. “You’re a jerk,” I said, eyeing his costume and thinking it looked lame now. “And I’m no one’s pity date. You can just…flip off,” I adlibbed, not wanting Seth to think I swore like a sailor.

  Reaching, Josh grabbed my wrist and yanked me away. “Listen to me,” he said, and the fear in his eyes stopped my protest. “I’ve never seen this guy before. Don’t be stupid. Let me take you home. You can tell your friends whatever you want. I’ll go along with it.”

  I tried to take an insulted breath, but the corset wouldn’t let me, so I lifted my chin instead. He knew I didn’t have any friends. “I called my dad. I’ll be fine,” I said, glancing over his shoulder to the tall kid in that sailor outfit who had followed Josh out.