Lana's Ex Prom Date Part 12

I look at the last text from Toby. He sent it this morning.

Toby: Did you ever pick your dress color? I have just about every color of tie to choose from between me and my dad's closet.

Finally, I can write back.

Me:Do you have light blue?

Toby: Yep!

Okay, now I'm kind of freaking out. I am going to prom. I mean, I knew I was going all along I guess. But now it's real. I have a date and a dress and Toby has a tux and a matching tie.

I stare at my dress in my lap when my phone buzzes again.

Toby: So I'll get you at six tomorrow?

Me: See you then.

Toby:Looking forward to it Ugh, why does he have to do that? You shouldn't send a girl smiley faces after you've dumped her. Every time he says something nice to me, I have this flashback of that stupid kiss. He was shocked and startled and caught off guard. G.o.d, Lana. How stupid could I be? Guys don't want girls kissing them first!

I still need to wash and iron the dress, but for now, I decide to try it on and see if my hair covers the part of the dress where the sleeves used to be. I slip out of my clothes and pull on the dress, twisting it sideways so that the back zipper is in the front. I zip it up and then s.h.i.+mmy it back around. Now it's a strapless dress, and I'm a little nervous it won't hold up on its own, but once I put on my strapless bra and pull it up, it looks nice. And it fits!

I stand in front of my mirror, a five dollar garage sale purchase, and then twirl around. Yeah, you can see the old st.i.tches, but maybe after was.h.i.+ng and ironing it'll look better. Plus, you can only barley see it, and I think the slight flaw still looks loads better than those stupid sleeves would have.

I smooth my hands over my skirt and examine my reflection. I guess I look okay. At the very least, I don't look horrible.

"Wow."

I whip around and see Bennet standing there in my doorway. His eyes are on me, then my dress, and his cheeks flush red in a way I've never seen before.

"Shut up," I snap, feeling my own cheeks heat up. "It's the best I can do."

He runs a hand through his hair, leaving his palm on the back of his neck. "You look beautiful."

I roll my eyes at him and turn back around to look at the mirror again. "I'm serious," Bennet says, stepping into my room. "I thought you were complaining about not having a good dress?"

"This isn't a good dress," I say, sighing. "It's an old dress from Mom's craft supplies. I cut the sleeves off to make it look a little better."

Bennet's gaze drifts down my dress and back up again. "It looks good. You look amazing."

"You have to say that," I say, looking down at my skirt.

"Why would I have to say that?"

I reach out and punch him in the shoulder. "Because we're best friends, stupid. You have to say nice things because I'm a girl and you know girls are sensitive and you'd feel bad if you told me I look like a loser who's not good enough for my date."

He bites on his bottom lip. "Lana, Toby is the loser who doesn't deserve you. You look really beautiful in this dress and no one will know it's not brand new."

I tilt my head. He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. "You are a great person, Lana. You're beautiful and sweet and fun. Don't let anyone make you think differently."

"Where's this coming from?" I say. My throat is suddenly very dry.

Bennet shrugs. "Just thought you needed to hear it."

"Well...thanks," I say. I don't know why, but tears feel like they're lingering just behind my eyelids.

Bennet releases my shoulders and takes a step back. "So, prom tomorrow." He glances down at his blue s.h.i.+rt and faded pair of jeans. "Guess I better go find something to wear."

I shrug. "You could wear that. I'm sure no one would notice."

He laughs. "Maybe I will. Save me a dance, okay?"

I nod and watch him smile as he leaves my room. Bennet has always been a great friend. But now he feels...I don't know. Like he's something more than that.

Chapter 24.

Prom day I wake up with b.u.t.terflies in my stomach. I call Ashlyn, but she doesn't answer, probably because it's early in the morning and the girl loves to sleep. I think about calling Bennet, but then I don't. Things were a little weird between us yesterday, what with him being all nice and stuff after days of being mean to me about Toby. Weird. Just weird.

I eat some breakfast in an attempt to calm my nervous stomach. Since it's Sat.u.r.day morning, Mom is at work at the salon. She did leave me a note on the fridge.

I'll fix your hair at 3pm, honey! I also have time for Ashlyn if she wants.

Love you, Mom Great, Mom's at work so I have until three to sit around the house all alone and panic about prom. Awesome! Not.

I take a hot shower and wash my hair so Mom won't have to wash it later on. I'm looking forward to the hair and makeup styling she'll do for me today. I'll once again look as nice as I looked on that first date with Toby. Too bad hair and makeup will forever remind me of that date and everything that came after it.

Ashlyn must still be sleeping, because by noon I haven't heard from her. I could go over to Bennet's but instead, I choose to be lazy on the couch and catch up on some TV.

My phone rings just after noon. It's Toby.

My heart races and suddenly I just know he's going to cancel our prom date. He'll say never mind, he can't do it. And although I'll be upset, I guess it'll work out for the best. I'll still go with my friends.

With a shaky breath, I answer the phone.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Hey, Lana. It's Toby."

I roll my eyes even though he can't see it. "I know. What's up?"

"Do you have a minute to talk?" He sounds nervous, which is weird.

"Yes, what's up?"

"Can we talk in person?"

I look down at my pajamas, unmatched and ugly, and estimate that it'll take me around ten minutes to get dressed into something less embarra.s.sing. "I guess."

"Great, I'm here."

The call ends at the same time my doorbell rings. I groan and throw my phone on the couch pillows. I really don't want him to see me like this, all ugly no makeup and faded sleep clothes, but then again, he did dump me, so I guess it doesn't matter.

I trudge to the front door and open it. Toby is normally so s.e.xy he could pose for a magazine every waking moment, but right now he kind of looks like s.h.i.+t.

He's wearing basketball shorts and a baggy white s.h.i.+rt that's given out free for donating blood. "You okay?" I ask as I let him inside.

He chuckles. "I slept in this."

"I can tell," I say, taking in his flip flops and messy bed hair. "What's going on?"

He sighs. "I just wanted to talk. Is your mom here...? I don't really want to be overheard."

I shake my head. "She's at work. Look, if you don't want to go to prom, it's totally fine-"

"No, I want to go." He gazes around my tiny foyer and then points to the couch. "Let's sit down."

We sit and I mute the television. I'm very much aware of my dump of a house and how it's nothing compared to the mansion Toby lives in, but again, he dumped me. I don't really have to care how he perceives me now, even if deep down I still do care a little bit.

Toby takes a deep breath and looks at his hands in his lap. "My dad is an a.s.shole. A hard a.s.s. A big mean businessman type of guy." He exhales slowly, like saying those words took all of the energy out of him. "I'm not like my dad. I don't play sports and go hunting on the weekends. I'm not into all that ultra manly stuff."

He shrugs and looks over at me. I'm still trying to figure out where he's going with this, but I don't say anything and he continues, "I like photography. Art. I like humanitarian projects and I want to travel the world when I graduate. I want to post photos of the things I see on Instagram."

"I don't know what this has to do with me..." I say when he pauses a little longer than what is a comfortable amount of silence. "And you don't have to be a manly man. No one cares about that."

"My dad cares," Toby says, his voice hard. His jaw tightens and he shakes his head as if he's having an argument with himself. "I spent all of my freshman and soph.o.m.ore year having my dad call me gay, a f.a.ggot, you name it. He saw my Instagram account one time and he yelled at me for two weeks straight, saying I was posting gay photos online." He grimaces as if saying those words is painful. Honestly, hearing them is pretty painful too.

"That's..." I lift an eyebrow and he laughs sarcastically.

"Exactly. My account isn't about men kissing men or anything. It's artistic photos. I don't have a single photo of two men kissing, but my dad seems to think everything I do is gay and he is very much against that."

"So...are you gay? Is that why you broke up with me?"

He doesn't answer right away, so I add, "I don't care, you know. There's nothing wrong with being who you are."

He swallows and looks down at his hands again. They fold into fists and then flatten out on top of his shorts. "I'm not gay. I'm not anything, really."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugs. "I like girls. I mean, you're very pretty and I can recognize and appreciate that. I also notice when guys are attractive, but that doesn't mean I want to run off and make out with them, you know? Anyhow, my dad is an a.s.shole, like I said. He can't stand the idea of his son being gay and he won't believe me when I say I'm not. Apparently, if I'm not dating girls constantly then I'm an embarra.s.sment to him. He's been threatening to send me to military school."

"Wow...that's..." I breathe in and then can't think of anything to say.

"It's bulls.h.i.+t," Toby finishes for me. He finally said if I don't get a girlfriend he's kicking me out. He's sending me to Was.h.i.+ngton to the most extreme military school there is. It's where they send felons and horrible teenagers. I can't go there."

I see the fear in his eyes, and I can't say I blame him. Toby clears his throat, the shame evident on his handsome features. "So one day when he was going off on me, I just snapped. I lied and said I had a girlfriend and we were going to prom. My dad freaked. He loved it. He actually smiled at me and asked why I hadn't told him. I made up another lie that I was shy and it took me a while to ask out my girlfriend."

I narrow my eyebrows. "This was before I asked you out," he explains. "It made my dad so d.a.m.n happy that I had a girlfriend, that he dropped the talk of military school and things were okay for a while. So then I realized I needed a prom date to convince my dad I wasn't lying."

"Why didn't you just get a real prom date?" I ask. I pull a couch pillow into my lap.

"I don't like anyone. I don't know how to describe it, Lana. It's not you-I swear. I just don't want to be in a relations.h.i.+p. I don't want a girlfriend because that kind of thing just doesn't interest me. Like I said, I want to travel and grow and learn things. I don't want to do the typical high school bang-a-bunch-of-girls thing."

My cheeks redden for some reason and Toby gnaws on his lip. He runs a hand over his face, and I can sense how ashamed he feels. "I've tried to like girls and have a girlfriend, but it's just not my thing. Maybe I'm broken, I don't know. But I needed a prom date and I saw you in cla.s.s on day and realized you were pretty and nice and I was pretty sure you were single so... I thought I could be your friend and ask you to prom. But then you kissed me-"

I groan. "Can we just pretend that never happened?"

He laughs. "It was a nice kiss, Lana. You don't need to be embarra.s.sed. It just made me realize you might be starting to fall for me. And it was my fault because I was leading you on, but I didn't know how to get a prom date without being somewhat romantic, you know? And I really want to go to prom with you. I think it'll be fun. I just don't want a relations.h.i.+p and I swear it's not you. It's me." He puts a hand to his chest. "I'm broken. I'm screwed up in the head. I'm not like most guys who just want s.e.x all the time. You didn't do anything wrong, Lana, I swear. I just had to end things before you got hurt."

"I get it," I say. And I do. With any other guy, I might think I'm being pranked, but I believe him. This kind of embarra.s.sed sincerity can't be faked. And it actually feels good to finally get to the bottom of this situation. He didn't break up with me because I'm gross or not good enough for him. It has nothing to do with me at all.

"Thanks for telling me," I say. "My self-esteem just got a lot higher."

He smiles. "Good. Because you're really great, Lana. I mean it."

"So, this is why I need to act like we're together when I meet your parents?"

"Please." He clasps his hands together like he's pleading with me. "Please, please, please. It would mean a lot."

"I got your back," I say, grinning. "I'll be clingy and bat my eyes at you and act like you're the best boyfriend ever."

"Thank you," he says, bashfully looking away. "I mean it."

"So, you'll be here at six?" I say, trying to lighten the mood. After learning about Toby's home life, I feel a thousand pounds lighter, but I can't help but feel bad for him. It sucks having a dad like that.

"Six," he says. "Then we'll go to my house and let my mom take pictures and stuff." He rolls his eyes. "They're going to be so happy that their weirdo son actually has a girlfriend."

I flip my hair over my shoulder like I'm some stuck up starlet. "I'm happy to help."

Chapter 25.

Mom clears her schedule for half an hour so that she can be home with me for the big goodbye. That's what she calls it: the big goodbye. It's a little overdramatic if you ask me, because going off to the prom isn't like dying or whatever. But I'm glad she's here regardless.

Mom makes my hair and makeup look as great as it did on my first date with Toby. I make a mental note to ask her to teach me her ways so that when I'm older, I'll have a chance at looking professional and cla.s.sy. Toby arrives exactly on time. The s.h.i.+ny black limo looks a little out of place parked in front of my house.