Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Chapter Eight: Prom Night

I am posting this chapter early since I will not be able to get it posted this weekend. It is also a much longer chapter and more things are going on. Remember, feedback is appreciated whether you like the story or you have something to say that I got wrong on the story. So if you got questions or just want to say keep going, a reply is appreciated.

Anywhere here are the previous chapters:

Chapter 7

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Chapter Eight: Prom Night

by Write and Left

It was late Saturday morning and tonight was the day of the senior prom. Bridget stood sat with Lia in her room trying to cheer her up.

“Daddy looked forward to seeing me off on my prom date. I should call James and tell him I’m not going,” said Lia. “It won’t be right.”

“You’re going and that is final,” said Bridget. She put her arm around Lia. “Besides, your dad would want you to go to prom.”

“I suppose,” said Lia, “but you have to come to too.”

“I don’t have a date,” said Bridget. No had wanted to go with her to prom because of the very public accident she had. Since Lia’s father had died only a few days before, the other students stopped teasing Bridget since she was Lia’s best friend, but Evan Fiscus was still taking Julia Grass instead of her.

“That’s just an excuse,” said Lia.

“It’s not. The prom committee made a rule that everyone has to have a date.” Bridget didn’t really want to go. Still it would pass the time before she could find Flower and have her lead her to the terrorist. Still that would not happen until then end of August. It was still the miiddle of May. There was one more week of regular classes and then finals week. School was almost over.

“I’ll get you a date then.” Lia ran out of her room and into her bathroom and slammed the door.

Bridget spent the time laying out Lia’s dress and other accessories on her bed. She had been trying since Evan left her to set Bridget up with a date, but even David Krouse refused. Lia had picked out a nice dress. It was not as dowdy as she expected a dress for Lia to be, but it also would not look like a satin feed sack strapped around her like a towel. She even had a little matching purse.

“Okay,” said Lia, as she came out of the bathroom, “I got you a date.”

“With whom,” she asked. “If it’s anyone from school with a bucket of pig’s blood, they’ll rue the day they messed with me.”

“Pig’s blood?” asked Lia, “You suddenly got a whole lot of knowledge about geeky literature Miss Romance Junkie.”

Bridget worried that she gave herself away again. Quickly she covered: “Well I thought Carrie was a romantic comedy. It didn’t end how I thought it would end.”

“Well, anyway my dad’s boss said he would do anything for me. To make a long story short, his son just got home from college and he is taking you to prom.”

“No,” said Bridget. “I don’t have a dress; I don’t have my hair done; and I don’t have anything to wear. Prom is tonight. Besides, I am worried about embarrassing myself.”

“Yeah, we better get to the mall,” said Lia. She grabbed Bridget’s hand and dragged her out to the car.

“I told you it’s too late to get a dress.” The clothes racks in the prom dress sections were sparse. The sales girl was busy consolidating the remaining dresses to a single rack.

“I need a prom dress,” Bridget told the sales girl.

“What size are you?”

“Um, three, I think.”

“I think that dress and that dress are both threes.” She pointed out a hideous green and yellow dress and a very lovely pink dress.

“I’ll try on the pink one,” said Bridget as Lia lifted it up by its hanger.

Lia twirled it around and smiled. “I told you we’d find a dress for you.” She looked at the dress and frowned. She held the dress to the sales girl. “This one has a big blue stain.” Sure enough, a blotchy ink spot covered the bottom of the dress.

“Oh crap, the ink tag must have broken.” The sales girl took the dress and took it to the back room.

“Now what do we do?” asked Bridget.

She pointed at the ugly green and yellow dress. “You can get that one.”

“Absolutely not,” said Bridget. “I am not wearing that ugly dress no matter what.”

Lia pulled out her cell phone. “I guess I better call James and cancel.”

She grabbed the phone away from Lia. “Fine, I’ll wear the dress.” She picked the dress up by its hanger and carried it into the dressing room. As she undressed, she called out to Lia. “You owe me for this.” She kicked off her shirt and pants and pulled on the dress. When she slithered in to the silky dress and looked in the mirror. She stuck out her tongue at her reflection in the mirror. “You had to fit perfectly, didn’t you, ugly dress?”

She heard rattling at the door. “Do you have it on yet? Does it fit?”

With reluctance, she opened the door and spun around for Lia. The sales girl got a weird look on her face when she glanced at them and Lia spun her back.

“Your diaper is showing.” Lia walked around her and zipped up the dress.

Bridget felt her cheeks pinken. “It’s not a diaper; it’s a pull-up,” she hissed.

“Well, it’s covered now,” said her friend.

“Fine,” said Bridget. “Unzip me so I can get dressed and go home.”

“Does the dress fit?”

“Yes, now unzip me,” said Bridget.

As soon as Lia unzipped the dress, Bridget shut herself in the dressing room and took off the cursed garment. She pulled on her jeans and T-shirt and hung up her ugly dress.

“I’ll take this one,” said Bridget to the sales girl.

The sales girl blushed and didn’t look at Bridget during the entire time she rung the sale. Bridget could hardly wait to get away. When the transaction was finished, Bridget took her new dress and walked out of the store without waiting for Lia.

When Lia caught up, she said, “If I have anymore incidents to send to Seventeen’s Tragic Proms, I Angela Murphy will hold you personally responsible.”

Lia just laughed. “Don’t be so traumatic, Angela.”

Bridget looked at her nails and sighed. The polish matched her dress, but it was the ugliest shade of green and yellow she had ever seen. “I look like a freaking dandelion,” she said.

“And I really thank you for doing this for me, especially since your outfit didn’t work out,” said Lia. Her gorgeous red dress made her look almost heavenly. Bridget tried not to be too angry since she knew Lia had never got to be the hot friend with Angela around. Going to prom dresses in the outfit she was wearing would only be a little embarrassing. Ever dress at her previous high school’s prom had to have been as hilarious as looking at her mother’s prom pictures had been to her. Who knew? Maybe the garish dress she was force to wear would look styling when she went back to look at it in the future why everyone else would look foolish.

At least her hair was coifed professionally. Lia looked beautiful and she hoped prom would be perfect for her. That was the only reason she had gone along with being dressed like a lawn pest. “Do I look okay,” asked Lia.

“You look lovely,” Bridget said.

“You look really good too,” said Lia, “and don’t worry your pull-up isn’t showing since you are zipped up.”

“No mention of that when our dates get here.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the doorbell rang.

“Ooh, someone’s here,” said Lia and walked to the door. She opened it and a man stood at the door. He dressed sharp, his brown hair was short and trim, and he was broad at the shoulder. He held a wrist corsage in his hand and he smiled. His tuxedo might have been a little tight and he had a light line scarred his tanned face, but he was almost like a god.

“I hope you are not James,” said Bridget.

“I’m Derek Stevens,” he said. “You must be Angela.”

“Of course it’s Derek,” said Lia. “You know who James is.”

“I got you a corsage.” He held up a box. “I didn’t know what color dress you would wear, so I got red.” He looked at her dress and just shook his head.

Bridget held out her hand as Derek slipped the corsage on her wrist. “Thank you and sorry about the dress. I bought it today. There is a reason why most girls don’t buy prom dresses at the last minute.”

“I didn’t mean to imply–,” he started.

“I just hope you don’t mind how horrible I look,” Bridget said.

“Stop gabbing and stand over there for pictures,” said Lia. She had her digital camera out and took pictures of the two of them. “Now hold each other tight.”

Bridget felt chills go through her as she stared up at Derek Steven’s eyes as he held her for the picture. It was all she could do to contain her disappointment when he let go of her when the picture was taken. She felt glad for the protection of her pull-up as she was sure she felt slightly damp with the excitement of the embrace. You can’t be acting like a horny little school girl, she thought.

The doorbell rang again. “That must be James,” said Lia and opened the door. Bridget recognized him from school. He wore glasses and was in their physics and pre-calculus class. She supposed she recalled Lia speaking to her at some point, but she didn’t think they were dating.

“Your limo awaits, my dear,” he said to Lia and held out his hand for her to take it.

“Oh cool, you rented a limo!” said Lia.

“Not exactly,” said James. He led them out to a big black Ford Crown Victoria. “My dad got it for me at auction. They had about four or five they auctioned off. They used to be owned by the Feds.” He opened the door to let Bridget and Derek into the back seat and then opened the front door to let Lia in the front.

“It looks like the inside of a cop car,” said Derek. He pointed to the metal divider between the front and back seat.

“Sorry, I just got it today,” said James. “That can come off I think.”

Bridget put her finger on some holes near the side window. “At least they took the bars off the back window,” she said.

“Unto prom,” said Lia as the car began to move forward.

“Yeah, unto prom,” said Bridget. She promised herself she would have a good time no matter what.

James parked the car at the school and walked around to open the door for Lia. Bridget looked over at Derek. “Aren’t you going to go around and open the door for me?”

He pulled on the door handle. “It won’t open.”

Bridget tried to open her door and it was stuck as well. She tapped on the glass. James opened the door for Lia fine, and opened it for Derek. He flipped a switch on the inside of the door. “Oops, it has cop car doors.” At least they wouldn’t be stuck in the back seat of the car on prom night.

The four of them walked into the gym together. The prom committee had decorated the place with crepe paper streamers and a flower-covered arch at the entrance to the gym. The photographer was set up in front of the arch, so there was a bit of a bottle neck getting into the gym. Confetti covered tables were placed beneath the basketball hoops and the center of the gym was the dance floor.

Bridget blushed when she looked up on the stage and saw that one of the band members from the live rock band waved at her.

“Is that your father’s band?” asked James.

It was her father’s band. A girl’s father at prom was the dream of every high school kid, wasn’t it? Only if that dream was a nightmare. “I’m love prom so much,” said Bridget to Lia using her sarcastic voice. “Everything is working out perfectly.”

“I wouldn’t mind having my father at prom, Angela,” Lia whispered.

Bridget decided to change the subject before Lia’s makeup ran. “Let’s grab a spot at one of the table and sit down.” She looked over to their dates. “James, would you and Derek get us some punch?”

Lia and Bridget went and sat down at the table and watched everyone dance. “Look,” said Lia, “there is Evan Fiscus and Julia Grass.” Julia hung on Evan’s arm as they walked across the dance floor. “It looks like she had to do last minute dress shopping too.” Julia wore the exact same dress as Bridget. It looked just as hideous on her as Bridget thought it looked on herself.

“Now they’re coming over,” said Bridget. She hoped she would keep her promise to be nice.

“Hi, Lia,” Julia said. “I’m so sorry about your father.” Julia took Lia’s hand in both of hers. “I’m glad you could still make it to prom.”

Lia looked confused about Julia’s behavior.

“She’s been really nice since Tuesday,” said Bridget.

“Thank you,” said Lia.

“Oh, Angela,” said Julia through a big fake smile. “I’m so mad at you. You stole my dress. I searched for weeks to find a dress that was unique and made me look beautiful.”

“I’m sorry,” said Bridget, “I got it last minute and it and another dress with a big ink stain were my only choices.” She took some satisfaction in saying in not so many words that it was the last dress she would even want to be seen dead in. “I wasn’t going to go to prom, but Lia wanted me to, so I am here.”

Julia gave no indication that she was insulted by Bridget’s comment. “You’ll have to introduce me to your date. I didn’t know you had gotten another one.”

“It’s a friend of Lia’s from outside school,” Bridget said.

“My dad’s boss’s son,” said Lia.

“Well I can’t wait to meet him,” said Julia.

“I bet she does,” whispered Lia.

The band began to play a slow dance song and Evan must have sensed things were going to get out of hand between Julia and Bridget. “Julia, let’s dance.” He dragged her off to the dance floor.

“Well that wasn’t awkward at all. Thank you for coming. I know you don’t like to dance and you would have to see Evan and Julia together. Thanks for putting up with it all,” said Lia. She pointed to the guys. “At least our dates are back.”

“Here are your drinks,” said James. Derek and James handed them each a glass of punch and sat at the table beside them. “So do you think Julia got the most votes for prom queen, or do you think it is Marcy Phillips?”

“I’m hoping Marcy. Even know Julia was being nice the past few days, she still is a ho,” said Lia.

“Which one is Julia?” asked Derek.

“That girl there,” said Bridget as she pointed at Julia, “the girl in the hideous green and yellow dress.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black,” said James.

“I think you look rather nice in that dress,” said Derek.

“Then you have as good of tastes as Julia,” said Bridget. She giggled and put an arm around Derek. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“How about we dance?” Derek suggested when the song changed to a Latin number. “You do know Salsa, I hope?”

“Of course I do,” said Bridget. She looked over to Lia who was waving her hands in the negative and mouthing, “No.”

“She’s going to embarrass herself,” Lia said to James.

“More than before?”

Bridget barely heard them. She got on the dance floor and put her right hand on his shoulder. He took her left hand in his and they began to dance. “I’m a little rusty,” she muttered. She had last danced with a man about a year before her incarceration. In prison there was no longer anyone to dance with so she hoped she did okay. Let’s see, she thought, right foot back, right foot forward, left foot up and down, left foot forward, left foot back, right foot up and down. She hadn’t lost her touch at all.

He knew a lot of turns and he changed them randomly as they danced. She spun as he turned her and before she knew it, she was laughing and smiling as they danced. A few more songs later and she was hot and sweaty. Bridget was glad for the thin layer of baby powder between the fabric of her dress and her skin. She didn’t have to smell like an ox.

The song changed to a slower rhythm and she let him lead her back and forth across the dance floor. There wasn’t as many turns to this song, but she still followed his lead. At the end of the last song Derek laid her back in a dip. The music was so sensual she thought that he was going to kiss her. She looked at his lips and parted her own, ready to let him ravage her lips, but he just stood her up again and escorted her back to their table.

“When did you learn salsa, Angela?” asked Lia. “I’ve never seen you dancing to anything but hip hop.”

“The last song was bachata anyway,” said Bridget. At least her relationship with Edwardo Lozano for a few months back in college taught her something: Latin dance and running from Consuela Lozano. That bastard never told her he was married. “Besides, the guy does everything. All I have to do is move my feet and follow.” She smiled.

“Where is Angela Murphy and what did you do to her,” said Lia. Bridget quit smiling. She had been tormenting her just a little, but she didn’t think she gave herself away.

“What do you thing I read about in all those romance novels?” asked Bridget. “I’ll tell you: hot Latin lovers.”

Lia laughed.

“James, aren’t you going to ask Lia to dance?” Bridget asked.

“Don’t go there, Angela. I can’t do all that stuff,” said James. “When there is hip-hop or slow dancing I can do that.” The band started to play Soulja Boy and James pulled Lia onto the dance floor.

“You want to dance to this?” asked Derek.

“Not a chance,” said Bridget. “I like you, but I am not doing that.” She pointed at Lia and James trying to jump as if they had a Superman cape when the part of the song that went, “then Superman da oh.”

“Point taken,” said Derek. He looked over at Bridget. “You know you seem a lot more grown up then I imagined when Dad said I would be taking a high school girl to prom. I didn’t expect I would be wiping noses and changing diapers, but I thought there would be a lot more, ‘OMFG, LOL,’ type talk.”

Bridget felt her cheeks burn at the mention of him changing diapers, and she hoped he didn’t expect she was really wearing diapers when he saw her face turn pink.

“When did you graduate?” asked Bridget. “I assumed you would be a freshman or a sophomore in college.”

“I got one more semester and then I’ll graduate in December.” He smiled. “I don’t really relish another winter in Massachusetts, but it will be a light load.”

“Wow, I’m really a step down for you,” she said. “Is that Massachusetts as in MIT?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going to be an engineer and build things. I don’t want to be a hewer of wood and a drawer of water.” He frowned. “Lately Dad’s been wanting to give up running a lumber company. Too much looking over his shoulder for crazies like the people who set that trap for Lia’s dad.”

“They affect my life too. Saw some protesting outside Burger King the other day,” said Bridget. She recalled seeing the protestor with Flower and the terrorist at the movies when she saw Star Trek.

“Well there is a difference between peaceful protesters and the people that leave nails in trees to maim or kill lumberjacks.”

“They are the same people or at least they hang out together,” Bridget yelled. “If you think the Meat is Murder crowd is any different from those tree spiking murderers, you are wrong.” Other students were staring at her. The song had just ended so they only heard her say the last three words, but she had drawn attention to herself. She shut up.

Lia and James walked back since they were playing another Latin song.

“I’m sorry, I was just upset because I love Lia,” Bridget told him. “Here you were thinking I was so mature and I had an outburst like that.”

“I know how you feel,” said Derek and patted her on the back like she was a child.

“Arguing with Derek, Angela?” said Lia. “Shame, shame.” She ran her finger along her other index finger as the gesture for shame.

“We had a little disagreement,” said Derek. “We made up.”

“Prove it,” said James. “Take her back out on the dance floor.”

Bridget stood up and took his hands in hers. “Yes. Prove it.”

He took her out on the dance floor for a little more dancing. Bridget stumbled a few times as she thought of the terrorist’s friend at the Burger King. She decided to concentrate on dancing so she could enjoy herself and let Derek spin her until she was dizzy on the next meringue song.

“I got to go to the bathroom,” said Lia. “Come with me.” She dragged Bridget out of the gym and out into the hall toward the bathrooms.

Bridget went in a stall and pulled down her pull-up and sat down to pee.

“So I think I’m going to give up my virginity to James tonight,” said Lia from the next stall."

“Did you tell James you would do this?” asked Bridget. She didn’t think they were really that close.

“Not yet,” said Lia. Bridget heard her start to pee. Bridget did the same. She handed needed her pull-up after all, but she was not taking chances. The only wetness in her pull-up was from sweating so much. Dancing is sweaty work, dancing in a diaper, even if it is a cloth-backed pull-up is even sweatier. It wasn’t pee, so she pulled it back up.

“So do you love him?” asked Bridget.

“No,” said Lia, “but it’s prom. Everyone loses their virginity at prom.”

“I would wait. What if James gets you pregnant or gives you a disease? I would hold out for a college boy.” Bridget sighed at the thought of letting Derek take her to bed. “You have seen Derek, right?”

“Thanks, Angela,” said Lia, “you’re pretty smart. I guess I don’t want to end up a ho like Julia Grass.”

“I don’t think she is losing her virginity at prom,” said Bridget. “That ship has sailed.”

“Yeah, freshman year.”

They got back from the bathroom just in time for the class awards. The class president got up on the stage and pulled out a clipboard. “Hey everyone, this is the moment we’ve all been waiting for, when we give the results for those who done the most to be remembered in this class.” The class vice president handed him a stack of envelopes. He pulled out the first envelope. “We have a boy and a girl for each category. When I call your name come up and stand by your counterpart for the class favorites dance.” He opened the first envelope. “Prom King is Evan Fiscus.” Evan walked up, took the plaque that was handed to him and walked down to stand in the middle of the dance floor. The class president took another envelope. “Prom Queen is Marcy Phillips.”

Marcy squealed like a stuck pig and took her plaque and ran down to the dance floor and threw herself in Evan Fiscus’s arms. She gave Julia Glass a dirty look.

“Now our Most Likely to Succeed students: the boy is James Duane and the girl is Lia Jones. Both of them did nothing but study, and you know how successful people like that become.”

Bridget clapped as Lia and James went up to collect their awards. As Lia left the stage after getting her plaque she stuck out her tongue at the valedictorian Cindy Ericson who had thought she would be Most Likely to Succeed.

“Now our high school is like many others where students try to impress one another with their clothes. Why do they do that? Because they know they will be awarded with the Best Dressed award. Daniel Crawford and Jana Smit come up to accept your award.”

The two student ran up to the stage. Daniel Crawford, not only had a smart tux on, but the tux had tails. He also carried a top hat and a walking stick. Jana Smith wore a Renaissance-style dress. Her honey-brown hair cascaded down her back like loosely wound golden springs. Bridge thought she deserved the award.

“Now we have our final award: the Most Embarrassing Incident.”

Bridget froze. A few students glanced in her direction, but she thought they wouldn’t be that mean to bring up the accident that happened just before she became Angela Murphy. She hoped not.

“This award goes to Darren Farling for his performance on the field at the homecoming game. Darren scored every single touchdown in the entire game. Of the five touchdowns he scored, only three of them were for East High. That my friends is embarrassing.”

As Darren sheepishly stepped up to receive his award, all eyes went to Bridget.

“Usually we tell the embarrassing story that is cause for this award, but everyone knows why you are getting this prize. Angela Murphy come up and get your plaque. Don’t hide or we will tell the story.”

Bridget walked up and took the plaque out of the class president’s hand. He gave her a hug. “Thanks for being such a great sport,” he whispered. Bridget walked down the stairs to stand with Darren Farling.

“Don’t pee on me, Accident Girl,” said Darren as he put his hand around her back to slow dance with her.

The music started and Bridget began to follow his lead. “If I didn’t care about embarrassing my date, I would,” Bridget said.

“I think he would be embarrassed to even be here with you,” Darren said. He turned her hard, almost making her lose her step. Bridget just glared at him. It felt like the song was going on forever. Would the humiliation ever end?

As soon as the dance was over she returned to her table were Derek was sitting. “So, what was this embarrassing story they were talking about?”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled and thought about how grossed out he would be if he knew she still had accidents. “Everyone was too embarrassed to go to prom with the girl that had that embarrassing incident,” she explained. “If I tell you, you won’t like me anymore.”

“Okay,” said Derek. “I guess it must be pretty traumatic if you feel that way. I won’t pry.”

Bridget took a Kleenex and dabbed her eyes, careful not to wipe away her makeup. “My makeup’s not too smeared, I hope.”

“It’s fine,” he said. The band started to play another slow song. It was Elvis. “Want to dance?”

“Yes,” she said, “but only fools rush in.”

“I can’t help it,” he said as he led Bridget to the dance floor. He held her close and they slowly dance. The song was so soft and Elvis’s voice just made her want to be closer to Derek. She couldn’t help it and threw both arms around his neck, squeezing her body against Derek’s on the dance floor. His hands lowered themselves to the small of her back, but it didn’t go any lower. Derek was too much of a gentleman.

Bridget had counseled Lia to not give up her virginity to James tonight, but just like Elvis, she couldn’t help falling in love with Derek. If he asked her, she would let him have sex with her. She thought of the pull-up under her dress and how she would hide it when she let Derek undress her. It somewhat took her out of the mood, but the song had ended and the music had stopped.

The class president got back on the stage and said, "I want to thank the prom committee and senior class of 2009 for an excellent prom. Drive home safely everyone and thank you for making the class of 2009 the best.

Derek walked her back to the table where she retrieved her purse.

“Wow Angela,” said Lia, “I couldn’t dance that sensual with my dad on stage.” She held her hands over her eyes and turned around.

Bridget was torn between looking up at the stage for her father and comforting her friend. She chose the stage. The lights obscured the band from seeing what was happening on the dance floor, so she felt safe. She noticed Derek was looking up at the stage as well. She turned and put an arm around Lia.

“I’m sorry,” Lia said. Her mascara was running. Bridget took a Kleenex from her purse and wiped away her tears. “I’ve ruined my makeup.”

“It lasted through most of prom,” said Bridget. “Let’s just smile for another half hour and well be home and we can stop pretending to have fun.”

“Oh, I did have fun, Angela,” she said. “I just know my daddy’s not going to be at home worrying about me that makes sad.” She started to walk out with Derek and James.

“I’ll admit I had fun too,” said Bridget.

“Angela, we forgot our plaques!” Bridget and the guys waited as Lia ran back to the table and retrieved the awards. She handed Bridget her plaque. “We don’t want to lose these.”

“You do remember how I won this, don’t you?”

“Oh,” Lia said. She looked a bit embarrassed.

“Thank you for going to prom with me, Lia” James said.

“And thank you for taking me,” Lia replied. The group walked back to James’s car and they all piled in.

As James started the car, Bridget held up a hand and said,

“Home James, and don’t spare the horses.” Tonight certainly hadn’t been ruined for her. It had been embarrassing at times, but she was glad she came even if she held a plaque in her hands that she earned by pooping and peeing her pants. The only thing she would really regret about this night was not sleeping with Derek.

Re: Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Chapter Eight: Prom Night

Another well written and layed out chapter, keep up the good work WritendLeft

Re: Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Chapter Eight: Prom Night

I am really enjoying this story.

I think you were pushed for time when you wrote this as there are a number of errors throughout this chapter. Typos and a couple of places where it did not make sence when first read.

Re: Life and Death Choices Made Casually: Chapter Eight: Prom Night

Oops. I wanted it out before I left for the extended week end.