Lana's Ex Prom Date Part 14

Toby is a great dancer. His skills calm my nerves, and I just hold onto his shoulders and let him lead the way while we sway to the slow song. "You sound like you don't like them very much," I say.

He nods slowly. "They're okay. They're nothing like your friends, who are awesome. Like I said yesterday...I don't really fit in with most people. The things everyone else loves I find annoying. My cousin says I have an old soul, and I think maybe she's right, you know?"

"I can see that," I say as I peer up at him. Toby Fitzgerald is still very handsome, especially in the glow of the prom lights overhead. But now he doesn't make my heart skip a beat like he used to. I see him in a new light-as a real person, with flaws and fears, and worries. I see him as a friend.

"I'm glad we came," I say.

The dancefloor has filled up with more couples now that the songs are slower and perfect for cuddling up with a partner. Toby's eyes glint under the dis...o...b..ll. "Me too. Who would have thought that randomly asking out a girl would turn into making a good friend?"

"You're telling me," I say with a snort. "You were always so high up and special, I never thought we'd ever talk to each other, much less be friends."

He frowns. "I really hate popularity. Some people seek it out and they're really good at it. But I hate it. It's like I've been destined to be some stuck up popular p.r.i.c.k my whole life and I never even wanted it." Another couple dances a little too close to us and Toby s.h.i.+fts on his feet, turning us away from them. "My brother adored his high school fame. He still skates by on that even though he flunked out of college and works on custom cars for our uncle's body shop. He's not even good at his job, but the family connection keeps him employed."

"How did your dad handle that?" I ask, knowing it's probably too personal, but I can't help myself.

Toby laughs. A real laugh, filled with sarcasm and irony. "Oh man. Don't get me started. Dad was p.i.s.sed when he dropped out of college, but he got over it pretty fast I mean we both have a trust fund, so we don't need jobs. But you see, here's the thing-my brother is clearly not gay because he's got a new girlfriend every other week." He rolls his eyes. "So my dad doesn't give him any grief."

"That's really sad," I say.

He nods. "Can you imagine if someone in my family did have a different way of life? My dad would freaking slaughter them. It's so stupid. I'd never judge anyone for something like that."

"I prefer to judge people who are a.s.sholes," I say with a smile. "Not for their preferences, but for their actions."

"That's a good way to go about life," Toby agrees.

A faster pop song comes on and I turn to get off the dancefloor. Toby holds onto my hand. "Where are you going?"

"I can't dance to fast songs," I say, eyes wide. "I suck at it."

"First time for everything," he says. Then he flashes me a wink that makes me unable to object. "It'll be fun," he says, pulling me back onto the dance floor. "Just have fun with it."

So I do. And it's awkward and silly and I feel kind of dorky, but I follow Toby's lead and jump around, flail my arms, and dance to the Lady Gaga song. I glance around and see that all the other people around are doing the same thing. We all look a little dumb, but we're all having fun.

I kind of want to let go a little more, but I do what I'm comfortable with, and dance around until the song ends. I have a bead of sweat on my forehead when the last notes trail away and everyone on the dancefloor slows down.

"That was fun," I say, panting for a breath. "But it was also embarra.s.sing."

"There's so much glitter around here," Toby says, glancing around at the fancy dresses all around us. "I could use another drink."

"Me too," I say, relieved to be walking off the dance floor. Dancing like that was fun, but I'm not about to become a Broadway performer or anything.

We down another fruity non-alcoholic drink and I reach into my dress pocket to check my phone. There are no new messages from my friends, but I think I remember Ashlyn complaining about how there's no place to put her phone on her dress.

The convention center is really filling up now and it seems like everyone in school is here. I gaze out at the crowd and look for Ashlyn's gorgeous dress.

Toby sees them before I do. "There," he says, nodding toward the left. "A slow song is starting. You should go ask Bennet to dance."

"I don't know..." I say, following his gaze. My two best friends are talking to each other near the entrance of the room. They must have just arrived.

"He probably doesn't want to dance with me."

Right as I say it, Bennet looks up as if he knows exactly where I'm standing. There's no way he could have heard me from so far away, but now our eyes are locked on each other. He looks handsome in his rented suit, his hands shoved in his pockets. His hair is still all messy. He smiles at me, this sad type of smile that I don't quite understand because it's so unlike him.

"Go on," Toby says, nudging me in the elbow. "Give him a chance."

I swallow, taking a deep breath to calm my frantic heart. "Are you sure?" I say, not taking my eyes off Bennet.

"Trust me," Toby says. "I can see Bennet's feelings for you from s.p.a.ce."

"Okay," I say, feeling my cheeks flush. "I'll go say hi."

My knees feel weak as I walk across the room. My subconscious knows it before I admit it to myself. I'm not just going to say h.e.l.lo to Bennet.

I'm going to ask him to dance.

Chapter 27.

Everything kind of slows down as I walk toward him. The music is loud and the ba.s.s thumps, propelling dancers to shake and move around, each one lost in their own little world. I walk slowly, each step across the carpet careful and deliberate. I can't screw this up, not after all of these years.

I don't know where Ashlyn went. I think I see her maroon dress swis.h.i.+ng as she walks off to talk to someone, but I can't take my eyes off Bennet. His tuxedo is old, borrowed from his late grandfather. It's a little too big on him, but I know it makes his grandmother happy to see him wearing it. He has a blue pocket square. I know it's stupid to think like this, but it matches my dress. Perfectly.

I don't stop until the tips of my shoes are inches from his. "Hey."

It's a lame introduction. A simple three lettered word to start off the talk I want to have with this guy I've known forever. But I never claimed to be elegant. I am awkward and lame and I'm not up to date on what people think is cool. But Bennet's lips quirk into a grin. He doesn't care about any of that. He gets me. He always has.

"Hey," he says, his smile widening. "You look really beautiful."

"So do you." My breath gets caught up in my throat but I play it off like I'm not freaking out.

Bennet lifts an eyebrow. "Well that's disappointing, because I was going for handsome."

I shake my head. "You failed. You're very pretty tonight. Downright adorable."

I can't hold back my grin and he rolls his eyes. "Oh well," he says, sliding his hands down the lapels of his jacket. "I guess I did the best I can."

I know if I don't just say it, the words will lodge in my throat and they'll never come out. I'll freeze up and move on and this moment will be ruined.

So although my knees are weak and my heart is pounding, I make myself say it.

"You want to dance?"

Bennet stiffens, his gaze drifting toward the dance floor. "I don't really know how..." he says, his features twisting with insecurity. Bennet was raised by the Single Ladies, just like me. Learning to dance was never on the itinerary when your only guardian spends all their time working hard to get the bills paid.

"I'm not good at it, either," I say. I reach for his hand, and for a horrible second, I fear he won't take it. But then he reaches up and his fingers wrap around mine, solid and warm and strong.

"Let's go," he says, grinning at me in a way I've never seen before. It sends a s.h.i.+ver straight down to my toes. "If I'm going to make a fool out of myself, I should do it with you."

I feel floaty as I walk behind Bennet while he leads us to the dance floor. I'm practically skipping, no longer afraid of tripping over my own feet. We step up onto the edge of the wooden floor and Bennet turns around to face me.

His brows pull together like he's concentrating and he quickly glances out at the crowd. "So basically we hold onto each other and sway," he says with a wink. "It can't possibly be that hard."

My hands are shaky as I reach up and lock them onto his shoulders. I feel the warmth of Bennet's hands on my sides. I've touched him a million times in my life. Shoved him over on the couch, used his lap as a pillow while watching movies late at night. I've worn his clothes and I even cut his hair once in seventh grade.

I know this boy as much as I know myself.

So why does touching his shoulders now send a zap of excitement through my heart?

The music s.h.i.+fts into a slow song, and Bennet's feet shuffle alongside mine. There are so many couples on the floor now, there's not much room to move around, even if you did know how to dance.

"I don't think anyone can tell we don't know what we're doing," I say while we shuffle along next to other couples.

Bennet nods. "We blend in with everyone else. This isn't too bad."

I roll my eyes. "Dancing with me shouldn't be bad, you dork."

His tongue flicks across his bottom lip and I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I didn't mean that. I like dancing with you...it's being in front of people that's weird."

"I don't care about any of them," I say.

He grins, his head tilted down so there's only a few inches of s.p.a.ce between us. "I don't either."

"I'm actually pretending that none of these people are here," I say, and I realize that it's true even though I'd said it in a joking way.

"Why's that?"

I shrug and stare at the blue satin square in his pocket. "All these people are better than we are, Bennet. They have expensive dresses and they know how to dance. I've never really fit in with the people at our school."

"I get where you're coming from, but we fit in right now." He glances around and then looks back at me. "We're both dressed up, and we're both teenagers. We fit in."

I laugh. "You just can't see it. I'm wearing a free dress that's like fifteen years old."

I frown and point to the top of my dress where the ripped out st.i.tches still show a little bit. "I had to cut off the sleeves myself. All these other people went to the mall and spent hundreds on their stupid dresses."

"Lana, you're still better than these people. Me, you and Ashlyn, we're the greatest people on this d.a.m.n planet." He grins, his green eyes looking romantic in the glow of the room. "So forget about everyone else and just have fun. This is prom night, remember?" He rolls his eyes. "It's our stupid rite of pa.s.sage that you and Ashlyn have forced upon me."

"Oh hush," I say, poking him in the chest. "You're having fun." When I go to put my hand back on his shoulder, I'm not nervous about it anymore. The movement seems natural, like I do it all the time.

We've s.h.i.+fted around on the dance floor a little, and when I gaze out near the drink table, I see Toby. He's standing with one of his friends, a ma.s.sive football player who looks like he's about to burst out of his tuxedo. Toby holds a drink and laughs at something the guy says. Then he glances over and he sees me.

He winks and gives me a thumbs up, which makes me smile like an idiot. I can't even help it-I am full blown smiling with all my teeth showing and it's so embarra.s.sing.

Bennet notices, and he glances over his shoulder, seeing Toby. His shoulders stiffen under my fingers. "Do you need to get back?"

"Huh?" I snap out of my grinning phase and look up at him. "You don't want to dance anymore?"

But I still had so many things to say!

"Your date is over there," he says, and I can tell he's trying not to add something insulting at the end of that sentence. "You should probably get back to him."

"He's not my date," I say, and then I stop and shake my head. "Well, he kind of is, but it's fine. He wants us to dance."

"Wow," he says. "That's weird, but whatever."

I want to tell him that Toby and I aren't dating and that this whole night is just a sham to appease his dad. But there's time for that later. I need to know if there's any truth to what Toby thinks is going on with Bennet and me.

"Hey," I say as my brain tries to work out exactly how I should ask what I want to ask. "So you know how we're pretending no one else is here?"

"Yes, I'm still doing that, by the way."

I bite the inside of my lip. Beside me, a girl tries to do this twirl move with her date but he screws it up and she almost goes flying to the floor. Luckily, someone else catches her. I look back at Bennet.

"If we were alone right now, and it was just me and you here... what would you say to me?"

He seems to consider the question. "Well, we could talk about anything. Just like when we normally hang out."

This isn't going the way I want it to go. I can't just come out and ask him if he likes me in a like-like way, now can I? But I need to find out if what Toby says is true. If you truly can see that Bennet likes me from s.p.a.ce.

"I'm being serious," I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Like...between me and you...is there anything you'd say?"

Something that looks a lot like pain flashes behind his eyes. "I don't know what you mean, Lana. You're my best friend. I tell you everything."

"But..." I sigh while we continue to sway along the dancefloor. "I guess I'm thinking about something a little more...private..."

"Like how jealous I am of Toby?"

I look up so quickly I almost break my neck. "You're jealous of Toby? Why, because he's popular and rich?"

Bennet snorts out a laugh. "Definitely not. Rich people have terrible lives underneath all the money."

After having met Toby's parents, I can't say I argue with that. "So what do you mean?"

His eyes s.h.i.+ft around us and then look back at me. "Are we pretending no one else is here?"

"Yes."

"And you won't tell your boyfriend?"

"Toby is not my boyfriend," I say, groaning. "I swear to you. He doesn't even like me, like not at all. We're friends."

Bennet seems like he might not believe that statement, but then he sighs "f.u.c.k it," he says under his breath. "If I could tell you one thing, it'd be that I wish I would have asked you out before Toby did."