Save the Only Dance

Harper

I’m all alone. Standing against the glass wall like one of those geeky girls in the teen movies. The girl I told myself I wouldn’t be tonight. On the night of my senior prom. All of the disastrous dominos fell in rapid succession. My date, a first chair violinist in our high school’s competition orchestra got the flu. When he called me to tell me this morning, he barely got the words out before vomiting in exaggerated stereo. He felt awful, both figuratively and literally, so I’m not that mad at him.

My dad dropped me off in front of the aquarium. For some unknown reason, I wanted to come here regardless of being the solitary hermit. He opened the car door for me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. I didn’t miss the sadness in his eyes. His only child. His baby girl. Forever the loner. Not the most beautiful girl in the world by a long shot.

My mom brought me to the custom dress shop all the popular girls go for their pageant dresses. I chose a two-piece, emerald number. The skirt is long and flared out like a mermaid tail and the top is cropped, showing a sliver of stomach with long, tight, lace sleeves. It was too beautiful to let anything stop me from wearing it. Puking dates aside.

The student president of our senior class was seated at a table when I walked in. She was taking tickets, looking just as stunning as she always does. I’m self-conscious as a general rule, but being here by myself dressed like someone I don’t feel like turns my nerves on their head. She takes my ticket while eyeing me up and down. I smile and tell her to have a nice night even though at the moment I wish I were the one home with the flu.

Heads turn when I walk into the large room glowing with the blue light from the floor-to-ceiling aquariums surrounding us on all sides. Of course Harper Rosehall entering her senior prom by herself is something worth watching. My face heats under their stares and I do my best to keep my head high as I head toward the edge of the room and pretend to be overly interested in the sharks swimming by.

A few guys wave, and a girl from my Calculus class grins in a polite hello. Reaching into my skirt pocket, I pull out my cell phone. The DJ plays a song with a fast beat, so I text, instead of call, Benny in a rush I’m sure I’ll regret as soon as I hit send. This is awful. Will you come, please?

Ben refuses to do anything school related. Prom is equivalent to the second ring of hell for him. He didn’t understand why I wanted to go in the first place. I think he was even a little upset when I told him Jeff Golden asked me out. He seemed surprised. I yelled at him for being so rude and he apologized and told me I was reading it all wrong. He never explained further, though. I’m waiting for him to reply with I told you so, but no text message comes.

Ben does.

Walking through the same entrance I came through only minutes before. His hair is gelled in a way that makes him look suave, and he’s standing tall and proud—a feast for any girl’s eyes, but he’s not looking at any of them. He’s here for me. I watch as he takes his cell phone out of the pocket of his tuxedo pants and smirks as he reads my message.

He looks up from the phone and tilts his head to peer around the room. Everyone is staring at him. My guess is no one recognizes him. Ben fumbles with the button on the top of his shirt underneath the green bowtie, the bowtie that matches my dress perfectly. I step away from the aquarium, using the cool glass to push off of.

I walk slowly, taking in only him—trying not to let anything else filter into my awareness. The crowd of sparkling teenagers parts and I’m standing in the center of this stunning room. I’ve never been the center of anything, but right now I feel as if this is my moment. My hands in fists by my sides, I flex them open and smooth out the sides of my skirt. Ben kissed me and it changed everything. I kissed him and I fell so hard I can’t dig myself out of this rut of confusion and desire.

Standing before me is both the boy I’ve liked all my life and the man I love more than I can comprehend. Ben’s gaze scans as he still messes with his tie and when his eyes fix on mine, his mouth drops open and his eyes widen as he sees what I’m wearing. I smile as tears fill my eyes. I won’t let them ruin my makeup, though. Not tonight, after my aunt spent an insane amount of time contouring me like a Kardashian sister.

When he doesn’t make a move, I approach him and stop when we’re inches apart. “People are staring.” I lick my lips and flick my gaze to each side.

“Because you look like a goddamn angel.”

I blush. “Thanks. You got my text?” I smirk.

He nods. “Your mom called my mom this morning when Jeff left you high and dry.” Ben reaches out and gently lays his hand on my shoulder. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

I shrug. “Everyone stared at me like I’m some freak with three heads. Nothing new.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. “Harper, people are looking at you because you’re the most beautiful girl in this room—probably even the world.” He means every single word. My heart rate speeds up. It’s this buzzing feeling because I can smell his cologne and see the honesty in his eyes and that’s all I want. All a person really needs in another person. Truth. There’s an honesty in his kiss that I know I won’t find anywhere else, regardless of how many boys I kiss.

He slides his hand down to my wrist, then up the lace sleeve. “Thanks for coming, Benny,” I say again, louder this time so he can hear me over the music.

“I’d never leave my girl to the wolves,” he says, swallowing hard. His gaze flicks down to my empty wrist. “I have something for you. It’s not what I had in mind when my mom demanded I save you, but it’s all I have time for.” He smirks and raises one brow. I nod.

Leading me by the hand, he moves us closer to the shark aquarium. Sliding the tight lace around my wrist up my forearm, he bends over, pen in hand, and starts drawing on my skin. “You’re tickling me,” I exclaim as I watch him work.

Ben moves my arm as he draws. He bites his tongue and bottom lip as he concentrates—his gaze intent like a furious artist.

“Done. It’s totally worth the tickle factor. What do you think?” he asks, bending my arm so I can see my wrist. He clicks the pen closed and slides it back into his pocket. He leaves his hand in mine as he watches me appraise his handiwork.

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “It’s the most beautiful corsage I’ve ever seen.” It is a horrible drawing that wraps my entire wrist. “Daisies?” I ask as I narrow my eyes. “Or a rose hybrid?” I sniff my wrist. “The flowers smell so lovely. You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much.” Doodles. The man can cheer me up with doodles. Always has and always will.

“If you don’t sweat your ass off like it’s an underground rave, you might be able to keep the flowers all night,” Benny replies. “Dance with me?” He extends one hand and raises a brow. I say a silent prayer, thanking God Jeff got the flu.

A slow song trickles through the speakers and I can’t get into his arms fast enough. We sway to the music, the side of my face pressed firmly against his chest. “How did you rent a tux so fast?” I ask. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a tux and it just might be the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen.

I can feel him raise and lower his shoulders. “Maybe, I always wanted to come to prom with you, Harpee.”

All he had to do is ask and he didn’t. That means the kiss changed things for him, too. My whole body glows with anticipation. “Thanks for breaking your rule about no school functions. The sharks aren’t good dancers.” I tilt my head to the side of the room where the huge, lithe creatures swim above our heads.

“Neither are the wolves,” he growls, eyes darting around the room. “You should have known Jeff would end up puking on prom night. He’s that type of guy.”

Laughing, I pull myself against him tighter. He presses against me, and my mouth waters. The need to kiss him wars with my sensibilities. “Careful, little lady. Unless you want a true prom night.” Ben pulls back to peer in my eyes. When he sees my panic, he winks.

I can see the doodle on my wrist all night long, my hands twining around his neck. It’s the best night of my life. For the first time ever, I belong somewhere. Our peers whisper and stare and it’s not because we’re different, or weird.

It’s because we have something none of them ever will.