Merit
Granite Harbor, Maine
Prom Night
April 2001
Ryan shows up at the house, and Eli answers the door.
Before Eli can say anything, Ryan pretends he’s bothered that he has to go. “Can’t believe you asked me to do this.”
“Thanks, asshole.” Eli holds open the door. “Merit, Ryan’s here,” he calls upstairs.
I take a deep breath and one last look in the hallway mirror.
Pop appears in the doorway of the room he and Mom shared and rests his hand at his waist, still in uniform. “You look just like your mother, Mer.” He smiles.
I roll my eyes. “Pop, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
“No, because that will make you cry, and we can’t have you smearing that black stuff you put on your eyelashes, which you don’t need, by the way. You’re beautiful—”
“Just the way you are,” we finish the sentence together.
“I know; I know. You say it all the time. I never wear makeup, Pop. Only on special occasions.”
“So, how did this all work? You agreeing to go with Ryan and your brother and Grace?”
“Eli gave me fifty dollars and paid for my dress in exchange for me asking Ryan to go with me, so then we’d double with him and Grace.”
“Huh. Well, if you’re going to go with anyone, I’m glad it’s Ryan, honey.”
Me, too.
But, instead, I nod nonchalantly as if I don’t care either way. If Ryan had asked someone else or gotten asked by someone else, it might have broken my heart a little. No, a lot.
“You need money?” Pop asks as I give him a peck on the cheek.
“Nope. I’ve got fifty dollars burning a hole in my pocket.”
“You sure?”
“Pop, I’ve got it.”
Quietly, he nods, takes my cheeks in his hands, and kisses my forehead. “I love you, Bug.”
“Love you, too, Pop.” I give him a tight hug. “Don’t stay up too late, waiting for us.”
He will though. He always does. I think the things he’s seen in his life, in his career as a game warden, are things you’ll never forget.
Rescuing adults and children from bodies of water.
Recovering adults’ and children’s bodies from water.
Recovering bodies of teenagers who’d tried to make it across the ice on their snowmobiles, drunk.
Arriving on the scene to car accidents.
Drug overdoses.
Pop has never been shy in showing us the photos. Does he try to protect us from the bad guys? Yes. But does he show us the realities of making poor choices? Never misses an opportunity. I think that’s why Eli and I have stayed on the straight and narrow. We’ve tasted alcohol before but never taken full advantage of underage drinking, for fear of what it’ll do to us. Or maybe because, since we live in such a small town, we know it will get back to Pop. And I’m not sure if we are more scared of paying for the poor choices or breaking Pop’s heart.
In the two seconds it takes me to walk down the stairs, I allow myself enough time to overthink the situation of seeing Ryan in a tuxedo. Or him seeing me in my dress. I just march downstairs, grab my handbag, and look up. Staring at me are my brother and Ryan.
While I try not to look at Ryan, I can’t help but steal a quick glance at his broad, square shoulders filling his tux. His stormy eyes with long eyelashes gaze back.
“Well, you don’t look ugly, Bug. That’s good.” Eli smiles.
“Let’s get this over with. I got an episode of 90210 I’m recording on the VCR.” But, really, I’m dying in anticipation—not to watch the episode, but to kiss Ryan on the lips. To feel his hands slide around my hips. To feel him harden between my legs. My face grows warm. “You guys ready or what?”
While Eli gets in his truck, Ryan opens my door, and I try my best to act casual when I smell his cologne.
It’s still light out when we pull out of our lane and drive to Grace’s house in town. We follow Eli to Grace’s. Ryan turns off his Jeep after we pull in behind Eli, as he jumps out and goes inside to get Grace. We drove separately at my request. There was no way I could spend an evening with Grace ogling over my brother.
I can barely breathe, and it isn’t because of the dress.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, Mer,” Ryan whispers, tapping his fingers on his steering wheel, looking straight ahead, his jaw tight.
I don’t waste any time, and I lean over to place my lips on his cheek, but he turns, so my lips fall on his. I know we shouldn’t do this. Not in broad daylight.
Damn you, daylight savings.
I feel his restraint. He knows I don’t want Eli to know about us. But I can’t help it. Not right now. I coax his lips open with mine.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against my lips.
I gently put my tongue in his mouth. At first, I’m soft, but as my need increases, and the ache between my legs deepens, I know we need to stop.
His hands slide to my hips, as he wants to pull me to him, but he stops himself. Pulls away. “I can’t do this. Not in here. Not right now.” Ryan takes his thumb and slides it across my lips, his look devouring me. “Because, if I do this right here, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop, Mer. And I really want to dance with you first.”
I sink back to my side of the Jeep, my stomach in knots, twisting and turning with excitement.
“Here comes Ida.” I try to push the red from my cheeks and fix my bangs, as if we didn’t just make out.
“Hey, you two. Headed to prom?” Ida’s black sunglasses shield her eyes from the spring sun making its way to light the dark part of the world.
“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan says. “Where are you headed?”
“Uptown. Grocery store. Need to pick up a few things. Well, have a good time.”
“Bye, Ida,” I say.
Ida’s timely interruption helped cool the tension, the electricity, in the Jeep. As Ida walks toward Granite Harbor Grocery, Eli and Grace come out from her house.
“That’s a pretty dress,” I say about Grace’s dress.
“Liar.” Ryan smirks.
“I mean, if you’re into red.”
Ryan laughs a slow, throaty laugh.
We pull into the packed parking lot at Granite Harbor High, and we all make it into the dance.
We take pictures.
We drink punch.
We watch the Malcomb grandsons get plastered.
We watch the principal take them outside.
“We should dance,” Ryan whispers in my ear in the darkness as I watch Eli and Grace make out in the corner. “Come on. I promise you, he’s not paying attention to us.”
One dance. One dance, and no one will know any better.
“One dance.”
It’s dark in our gym, and many of the partygoers have left for prom after-parties. Or rather, one big party out at the beach.
But, before my body gets to his, he reaches for my fingers and gives me a quick tug. It’s a tug that explains the need for me to be next to him. It’s both forceful and soft. Our fancy fabrics give us a barrier, a safe haven, when our bodies touch. He firmly places his hands on the small of my back and sighs into my ear, sending chills down my spine. I rest my hands on his shoulders and keep my head next to his. In the most quiet, still way, Ryan drops his head, as if he’s going to whisper something into my ear, but instead, he presses his lips to my neck, and he lingers there. I feel my knees grow weak.
My heart isn’t skipping a beat, I think to myself. If it skips a beat, that will most likely mean death. Or that I have some sort of heart condition. I try to distract my mind from the way my body is responding to Ryan’s touch.
I believe Ryan is holding me up and that my feet aren’t touching the floor. And that he’s taking me to a place that might lead to teen pregnancy. Pop has given us many lectures on safety, making the right choices, but never sex. I mean, he might have with Eli, but it’s a subject that has remained untouched with Pop and me. Sex education can cover only so much. But I’ve seen movies. I know what happens.
“Ryan,” I say breathlessly as his hands tighten around my backside, “let’s go.”
Sex education does not prepare you for the feelings, the hormones, that your body will fight against you, telling you it’s all right and that it will feel good. Because Ryan’s body against mine right now feels too good.
He walks away from me, leaving me in the middle of the dance floor, alone. He interrupts Eli and Grace and whispers something into Eli’s ear. He comes back, tightly grabs my hand, and ushers me out of the gym.
At his Jeep, before he opens the door, he squares up against me, taking my jaw in his hands, gently moving my head to the side, and pushes his lips against my neck. I feel his teeth nibble against my neck, and I quietly call out—not out of hurt, but need.
Ryan stops. Drops his hands, moves back, giving us a few inches of space. Runs his hands through his hair. “Mer, we can’t do this.”
“What?” I reach out for him, beckoning him, my legs still spread just a bit, in preparation for what I want him to do to me.
He comes back to me, quick and hard, lifting the hem of my dress, exposing my panties. He stares. Marvels. His eyes then meet mine, and he crashes against me. I feel him adjust himself so that his sex meets my middle. Slowly, he moves against me. I want to pull my panties aside, thinking about how good this feels right now. He keeps his sex right at the top of mine and moves quicker.
“God, Merit,” he whispers in my ear with restraint.
I spread my legs more. He reaches up and lifts my legs, hoisting them around his waist.
Softly, I come unglued in his ear as I squeeze my eyes shut, and white stars dance in my head.
His scent.
The feeling of him against me.
I feel the wetness in my panties.
But Ryan stops. “We’re not doing this right here, Merit. We can’t. You aren’t losing your virginity in the high school parking lot.”
“Don’t stop, Ryan. Please,” I beg, want slipping through my lips as I trail kisses down his jaw.
He throbs against me. “I don’t have a condom with me. We can’t.”
I feel the head of his sex at my middle through his pants. I want him to remove what separates us, to feel him entirely.
I reach down for his zipper.
He sighs in my ear with one hand against his Jeep. The other one wrapped around my waist.
Slowly, I attempt to unzip his zipper, but I’m in the way.
Ryan freezes. “No.”
“Please,” I beg.
My legs tighten around his back.
“No.” He stops abruptly, carefully setting me down on my feet.
My breasts ache, my middle aches, my head is foggy, and I can’t see straight as my dress falls to its rightful position.
Zipping up his pants, he shakes his head, creating more space between us. “As much …” He pauses. “As much as I want to do this with you … God, as good as you look …” He moves closer. “Mer, I love you too much to do this with you in a parking lot.”
The world stops rotating.
The sun stops rising. Stops setting.
Time is on hold.
“You-you love me?”
“Hey, guys!” The shadows of Eli and Grace make their way toward us.
Ryan laughs and explodes with a, “Hey!” It’s artificial.
“You guys ready?” Ryan slides his hands together, trying to act normal but totally not giving off the normal vibe.
“Think we’re going to call it a night and head to Grace’s house,” Eli says. But what he’s really saying is, I need alone time with Grace.
“Curfew is midnight,” I tell Eli as the older sister. “If you’re not home by 12:01 a.m., I’m telling Pop.” I say this only to protect my little brother, out of my distrust for Grace. I make sure she sees me.
I’m not sure what it is about her. Maybe it’s her lack of eye contact with me. Or anyone for that matter. Her lack of words for Pop and me. Pop always makes sure we look people in the eye. Says it’s a sign of truth. Confidence. It’s respect. Apparently, the Ebscotts, Grace’s parents, didn’t teach her that. I shouldn’t doubt her for that.
I’m so glad it’s dark because my cheeks are flushed, and I assume my dress is more wrinkled than it was before.
“You two kids have fun!” Ryan says, still acting awkward as Eli and Grace load in his truck and drive away. “Oh my God,” Ryan says, rubbing his face with his hands. He looks to me. “That was close, Mer. Too close.”