Prince Charming (17 page)

“She so gorgeous you wish you could hate her, but then she’s so nice that you just can’t,” Allison said, as Evan and Laine posed for photos destined to take a place on the front page of the school newspaper and their own yearbook spread. “Everyone just loves her.”

“Yep, they do,” Josh replied. “Especially Geoff, here.”

I hit him once on the arm with the back of my hand, and shot him a warning look. “Shut up.”

Too late. A smug smile floated across Allison’s face. “He’s still in love with her, just like the rest of the school.”

“I’m not in love with her,” I protested, my voice rising in urgency. “I’m not in love with her!”

“It’s okay.” Allison nodded at the stage where Evan and Laine had just started their dance together as King and Queen. “Everyone is. It’s just a shame she won’t ever stop dating Evan.”

H
eritage High’s PTA, staff, and the parents of students prided themselves on giving the best they could, but that didn’t mean a good DJ for the biggest event of the school year. Some things just weren’t in the budget. Instead, we danced to an iPod playlist piped through the speakers, but I think I was the only one who noticed. Or who even really cared. Everyone else looked content to pack the rectangular parquet floor, and sweat away in fancy pastel dresses and rented tuxedos.

About an hour into the dancing, most of the girls ditched their shoes, and many of the guys wore patches of sweat on their backs. They yelled comments back and forth to each other and took hundreds of photos on their cell phones for Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook accounts.

“This music sucks,” Allison said as “Electric Boogie” began. All around our small group of friends, the crowd spread out to perform the line dance that accompanied the music. A longtime staple of weddings, bar mitzvahs, and school dances, almost everyone at Heritage knew that dance better than they wanted to admit. Funny, how a song like that had so much staying power.

“Come on,” Josh said, as he fell in line with the crowd. “A school dance isn’t a dance without this song.”

“Whatever, I can’t stand it,” Allison replied. “I’m going to the ladies room.” She smiled at both of us and disappeared into the crowd.

“It is kinda . . . well . . .” I said to Josh, but then I broke off, because some commotion diagonal from us on the dance floor caught my eye. In fact, what I saw brought me to a total halt.

Both Evan and Laine had stopped dancing. A deep frown cut canyons on her face, and she narrowed her eyes as she spoke to him. Anyone who saw her would have known she was angry. Evan said a few words to her and swayed a little, still wearing the cheap crown on his head. Unsatisfied, she pulled him off the dance floor through the rows of tables, and over to a dark corner near the banquet hall exit, away from everyone else and behind a large sign with the prom theme painted on it. No one followed them, but that didn’t really surprise me. The crush of students and music created chaos on the dance floor, as my classmates snapped photos of each other with their cell phones, danced in large groups, and laughed, as if this was the last night of their lives. They were all having too much fun to notice the argument.

And that argument reignited once Evan and Laine made it behind that poster. From where I stood, I watched them yell, their faces inches from each other. Evan’s face turned so red that I wondered if it would turn purple before long. Laine looked like she might cry at any moment. I stared at them until curiosity took over every cell in my body. “I wonder what—”

“What?” Josh yelled over the music “What’s wrong?” He stopped his awkward interpretation of the line dance and turned in the direction where I stared. By then, the argument between Laine and Evan looked heated to about five hundred degrees. “Oh. Shit.”

“Dude, I wonder if she’s okay. He looks pissed.”

“So does she.” I took one step in their direction, and Josh threw out his arm to stop me, angling his body so I couldn’t cut an easy path. “No way. Don’t go over there.”

“Why can’t I? We’re friends.”

“That’s between them.” He put his hand on my shoulder, but I still had a good view of Laine and Evan over his arm. She had crossed her arms, and swayed a little. Whatever this was, it was bad. Really bad.

Epic, even.

I threw Josh’s arm off my shoulder. “Look, I’m her friend. We’re friends. And you know, Evan’s an asshole. I’m going over there to see if she’s okay.”

“Really I don’t think you should—”

“You can’t stop me!”

“Come on, Geoff.”

I silenced him with a glare and made my way through the crowd of sweaty juniors and seniors. With each step, the argument intensified. Evan threw up his hands a few times. Laine covered her face in disgust. She backed away from him. He followed her. She said something to him and I saw him clench his right fist. The fact that my classmates ignored it all pissed me off. Couldn’t they take a break from their self-absorbed lives and notice what was happening right in front of them? Not even the chaperones stepped in, too busy dancing with the students. Why was I the only one seeing this? Why was I the only one who cared?

What the hell was wrong with people? Prom might have been fun, but that didn’t give them an excuse to act like their stupid lives were the only thing that mattered. Did it? And then, just as I made it to the tables, the unthinkable happened.

Evan slapped Laine.

He reached his broad hand back, said something I couldn’t hear, waited for her response, and cracked her once across the cheek. Just once, but one slap was enough for me. My own anger crashed around in my body as I took the fastest strides I could to reach them. Prom faded into the background, and I blocked out everything else but that moment. No way was he going to slap her and get away with it. I didn’t care who he was, or about the crown he’d just won. Evan shouldn’t treat Laine like trash, or like she was less than worthy to be around him. No one should. No one.

Laine yelled at him, holding her cheek. He swayed again as he replied, and even I saw the unnatural heaviness in in his lids. She shoved him away from her, and then did something that made me want to kiss her even more. She walked away.

No, she fled.

Laine walked over to her table and grabbed her purse just seconds before I made it over to them. Her clouded face didn’t meet anyone’s eye, so I couldn’t tell if she noticed me. All I knew was that I was the only one at prom who’d even witnessed that slap. I was the only other person in the room who knew Evan really was a certified asshole.

With one eye on her, and the other on Evan, I considered my options. I could go over there, hit him, and defend her. I probably wouldn’t win, but the moment would be one to savor. Or I could go after her, see if she was okay, and seize the opportunity to be alone with the one girl who never failed to make my heart swell.

I sucked in a breath. This really wasn’t a decision, at all.

––––––––

L
AINE STOOD ALONE on the curb next to the valet stand. She wrapped her arms around her ribs like she was cold, and I knew before I even reached her side that the asshole had made her cry. In fact, once I got to her, I saw it for myself. Mascara ran down her face in four watery streaks, and somewhere along the line she had smudged her red lipstick. Her black dress suddenly looked too big.

Sad.

For a minute, I wondered if I really should just go back inside prom, find Evan, and punch him until he needed plastic surgery. That asshole could have benefited from someone rearranging his face, and I wouldn’t have minded being the one to do it. But then, her words stopped me.

“He’s drunk, Geoff. That’s all it is,” she managed between sniffles. “He’s like that when he gets drunk.”

“Laine, he slapped you. I saw it.” My hand reached out to touch her bare shoulder, but then I stopped myself. “Are you okay?”

“It wasn’t hard. Really. It didn’t hurt.”

“But he hit you!” The way she bit her lip made me press further. “What is this shit? Has he done it before?”

“No—not—” She broke off, and looked away. “Yes. One other time.”

“Just one?” When she didn’t answer, I pressed her again. “What about that time I saw that bruise? Did he do that to you?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck, Laine?”

“Well—he sometimes gets angry.”

She might not have admitted it, but I had my answer. Evan had hit her before, so many times that he’d made her afraid of him. I exploded in anger. “That’s not okay! Jesus Christ. It’s not okay. It’s a crime!”

When she still didn’t look at me, I shut my eyes and cursed myself for not realizing this problem before. Of course Evan would do something unacceptable like this. He’d gotten away with everything else in life. My next words shot out like hot bullets. “Are you kidding me? This is serious. It’s not okay.”

“I know it’s not,” she said. “But I don’t know what do to about it.”

“Oh my God,” I said, as I went over in my mind the past conversations I’d had with Laine. “That’s why you left that day at the overlook, isn’t it? You’re afraid of him.”

She sniffled. “Maybe. I don’t know. I thought we’d get back together and he’d be better, but—he’s not. Well, not when he’s like this. He’s not the same person anymore.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“No . . . I mean . . . what am I going to say to them? It would just come back on me. And Evan’s invincible.”

“No one’s invincible.”

When my eyes opened, she looked even smaller, even more broken. This was Senior Prom, for fuck’s sake. Supposed to be the “best night of our lives.” Goddamn that jerkoff. I sighed, put my hand on her shoulder, and turned her body toward me. When she still didn’t turn her head, I moved it for her with my right index finger.

“Leave him. Dump him.”

A few more tears fell down her face. “I’m planning to do that. After graduation.”

“Graduation?”

“That’s not long.”

“He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t.” I pointed at her cheek. “That’s not love, Laine.”

“He brought a flask of bourbon. It’s in his jacket pocket.” She peered down at her shoes. Her chest heaved from a deep breath. “He says it takes a lot of liquor before he gets a buzz, because he’s so big.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” I shook my head. “He’s a really bad person.”

“He used to love me. I know that.”

“Love? Come on.”

“He did this summer, before school started, but this hasn’t been that great of a senior year for him. He’s different. His parents are going through a horrible divorce, and he’s going to have to pay for whatever his scholarship won’t cover at Ohio State—all his food, and everything. He’s pretty much on his own.” She sighed. “It changed him a lot. He’s not the person I used to know.”

“You’re making excuses for him!”

“I’m not. I’m just—I don’t want anyone to know because they won’t understand. People don’t get it. They don’t get me.”

“You left that day because you didn’t want to make him mad,” I said. “Jesus. What an asshole.”

“Well, I learned pretty quickly that it was just easier to go with the flow, to keep him happy,” she said as her eyes fell to the ground. “I thought I could just make it through the next couple of weeks, and then it would be easier because high school would be over.”

“He doesn’t know what he has with you. He doesn’t.” When she shivered, I took off my tuxedo jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She accepted it without protest. “It’s stupid if you stay with him any longer. Really stupid.”

I still felt angry. No, furious. Livid. Pissed beyond belief. Why hadn’t I been more observant? Why hadn’t her friends? How long had things been like this?

“You don’t understand. It’s complicated. He’s only like that when he’s drunk. The rest of the time, he’s fine.”

“Do you know what you’re saying? You sound like some kind of cliché.” I cleared my throat, as I struggled to say something that sounded right. “You could be some kind of after school special. We all could—this whole stupid school, this place . . .”

Her wide eyes finally met mine. “No, please. You can’t—please don’t tell anyone. This . . . I don’t want . . .”

“I should go back in there and kick his ass.” My eyes darted over to the glass door entrance to The Syndicate. “I’m sure I could get a few good punches in before he breaks my neck.”

She laughed, and when I saw her smile again the tension in my back faded away a little.

“I want to leave,” she said after a moment. Then she opened up her small beaded purse, and started digging around for something. “Like, right now. It’s just easier that way. I really want to get away from here.”

“You don’t want to go to that lame after prom? Someone’s going to win a huge ass TV.” I looked at my watch. 11:15 p.m. After prom started at the high school in forty-five minutes. “We could go. Or you could go with your friends.”

“I don’t want to go,” she whispered. “I don’t care about it anymore.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

I sucked in my breath, and took another step to her. The crisp night air seemed to change as I did, and I wondered if this was my moment: my one perfect moment. The moment I had waited over a year for, maybe for all of high school—the moment that toyed with my mind every time I saw her update her status on social media. After another long breath, I decided it was.