“Good, she’s got it sorted. The movers are coming over the weekend to take most of the stuff to their warehouse and prepare it for shipment.”
“I still can’t believe my mamá’s going to Spain?” Leo is half Spanish. I know it was originally his mother’s home, but it seems such a big move for her to make. Around the same time my daddy died, Leo’s parents divorced. His daddy disappeared West, and I don’t think Leo’s seen him much since. It’s like his daddy wanted nothing to do with his son anymore—as though he disowned him. It’s definitely been hard on Leo, but then again, the mutual support has been there between us. It’s going to be hard to stand on our own two feet without the other being there for support.
“I’m hoping the move will do her good. Too much has happened in a short space of time, and she’s not well as a result. Going back to her family in Spain will help—plus with me being in Europe, I can travel to see her on weekends and make sure she’s all right.”
“You’re a good son to her.”
“Hopefully, I’m a good boyfriend as well,” Leo teases as he pulls the truck to a stop outside the hotel. “Fancy skipping the prom and going straight upstairs? I can’t get over how pretty you look tonight.”
“Not until we’ve shown everyone how to dance.”
“Spoilsport.”
I stick my tongue out at him as the valet parking opens the truck doors. Leo hands them the keys and points to my bag in the back.
“Do you want to go upstairs and freshen up first?” he calls over to me.
I wink back.
“Nice try, but no.”
The valets try to suppress a small smirk. I’m sure they’ve seen and heard it all before. Two horny teenagers heading to a prom is probably the least interesting piece of gossip they have to tell.
“We’ll get all your belongings up to your room, sir. Go and enjoy your evening,” the valet urges as he and his colleague start to busy themselves with our luggage.
“Miss Landry?” Leo holds his hand out for me, and I take it.
He pulls me close, and we walk through the entrance to the hotel: an ornate chandeliered lobby with marble floors and gold leaf decorations. A member of the school staff is standing there and directs us down a corridor toward the ballroom. My breath is taken away when we enter the room. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Balloons hang everywhere, along with streamers and signs congratulating the class of 2005 on reaching the end of their high school careers.
People are already on the dance floor, and the DJ is playing ‘Don’t Cha’—a tune by a new girl band called the Pussycat Dolls. I really like it, and my body instantly starts to sway to the rhythm. One of the things that drew me to this particular dress was the fact I could dance in it. Many of the girls have on tight dresses, but this one is more flowing—the kind a ballroom dancer would wear to allow them to move.
Leo waves to a couple of his friends, including Sebastian. It seems our friend has been blessed to have lost Erin as his date because he’s currently surrounded by three other girls that I know from my biology and math classes.
“What do you want to do first?” Leo shouts in my ear over the music
“Shall we get a drink?” I reply, waving to the girls as Sebastian leads them onto the dance floor.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Erin glaring at them while her date, Thomas, mucks around on one of the two pool tables that have been placed in the room for additional amusement. She tugs on Thomas’ jacket indicating she wants to dance, but he ignores her and continues his game. I can’t help but think it serves her right, but I’m not the sort of person who’d say that to her face. I don’t really want her to hate her evening. I want everyone to enjoy their prom. It’s not always possible to get what you want, though, so for now, I’ll settle on Leo and I having the best of times.
Leo hands me a lemonade and grabs himself a diet coke from the bar.
“It’ll be strange for you when you’re in Europe. You’ll be able to buy alcohol in most places,” I shout at him in a brief pause between the songs.
“I suppose so. But I think I’ll be too busy dancing to want to drink. It’ll only slow me down.”
“Or give you a better sway, depending on how much alcohol you drink.”
“It’ll be harder when I come back here to visit you and can’t drink what I like.”
“I’ll just have to come to Europe all the time then.”
“You know you’re always welcome.”
Leo leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips.
The opening bars of ‘Boulevard of Dreams’ by Green Day start and Leo’s eyes and mine go wide. This is the song we’ve been practicing our dance to. We both quickly deposit our drinks on the counter. They’ll be cleared away by the time we come back, not that we’d drink them after leaving them alone. This is prom, after all—they’d likely be spiked with something. There are a few bad apples in Leo’s year determined to ruin everyone’s innocent fun.
Leo leads me onto the dance floor, and as Billie Joe Armstrong’s velvety tones start to sing about, ‘walking a lonely road’, we launch into a passionate tango. Leo has choreographed everything and spent ages making sure the steps are perfect for him as a dancer and me as a novice. It’s a fierce dance, and everyone around us stops to watch. I mess up a few times, but as Leo flings me around the dance floor and even lifts me into a couple of stunning poses, our classmates scream and shout in awe.
Eventually the song finishes, and everyone gives us a standing ovation. Even a couple of the teachers come up to congratulate us. It was a risk doing such a provocative dance, but the song is just beautiful, and the dance fits it perfectly. Leo has the biggest smile on his face as he receives all the applause from the audience. I’m so proud of myself for giving him this moment. He’s been victimized by a few of the jocks over the years for his love of dance, but tonight he’s proved it can be cool. He even starts teaching a few of them some steps as I return to the bar and get myself another lemonade.
“He’ll be famous someday dancing like that, sugar.” I turn around to see Erin standing beside me.
“I hope so,” I reply.
She has a drink of her own, so I don’t offer to get her one. I always try to be friendly toward her even if she’s horrible to me.
“When does he leave?”
“Not long. A week.”
“You’re going to miss him.”
“With all my heart.”
What does she want? Why is she choosing this moment to talk to me when she’s been mean to me ever since my daddy died?
“I’m such a fool.”
“What?”
“For thinking he wanted me. He was never going to be my beau. It was obvious all along you two would be the couple who stayed together.”
“Nothing’s certain, Erin. Our lives are going to take very different paths for the next few years.”
“You will always come back together again. Don’t worry. Fate has decreed it.”
Erin pushes away from the bar, her lemonade straw pressed between her lips as she goes. I want to say something to her—offer her an olive branch, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe it will happen one day, or maybe tonight will be the last time I ever speak to her. I don’t know which it will be, but I fear it’s the latter. Tonight is the start of something new. The progression from childhood to adulthood. Nothing will ever be the same again.