Continuum (16 page)

I arrive with minutes to spare, but Gina is already there atwitter about last minute disasters.  Her blonde coif is now perfectly blown out and falls in soft waves that bounce with her agitation.  She is wearing a tight red dress with a dramatic low back and a slit up to her thigh.  She is standing barefoot, her matching red peep toe heels are slung on her right hand which she is using to gesture angrily at the catering table.

I hear something about mismatched linens as I sneak past her and head to the entrance of the gymnasium.  The only thing left for me to do is to secure balloons to the table and hang a sign advertising the price of the tickets for those who hadn't already purchased their tickets.  After everything is in place, I head back inside to man my station.  My official duty during the dance is to make sure the punch bowl is full and that it doesn't get spiked it did last year.  Like it does every year.  I guess Gina didn't trust me with the general public, but the punch was manageable.

People, mostly underclassmen, start trickling in 15 minutes after the doors open.  30 minutes later, I am sitting next to the punchbowl, my face resting on my propped up arm.  More than an hour into the dance, I hear a familiar giggle at the entrance.  

The first person through the doors is Mackenzie, followed in quick succession by Chloe, Sophia, and Emma.  The theme for the evening is, of course, navy and silver.  Everyone but Mackenzie is wearing a variation of a navy bandage dress that hugs every curve and grazes midthigh.  Chloe’s dress has two triangular cut outs at the ribcage, giving the illusion that she is wearing a bra top with a skirt attached.  Sophia’s dress features a cut out in the back that curves down so low it just covers her butt.  Emma’s dress has a trapezoid shaped cut out at the neck, her cleavage dusted with glitter.  

Mackenzie is poured into a backless silver dress that dips low in the front and has a flirty, short skirt.  The molten color shows off her tan skin which she has carefully buffed, moisturized, and bedazzled.  They're all teetering on strappy four inch heels as they shuffle into the gymnasium.  I mentally pat myself on the back for not subjecting myself to that.

Mackenzie’s eyes meet mine as she makes her assessment around the room.  The lower classmen that have already fill up most of the outer tables look at them with reverence.  Mackenzie’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of me in my dress, but an impassive expression falls over her face once again like a mask she’s slipping on.  She sneers and leans over to whisper something to Emma.  Emma laughs briefly before her eyes dart guiltily in my direction.  

Ethan

I arrive on the party bus with the rest of the guys and their dates.  Mackenzie had refused to ride on the bus and instead chose to rent a limo with her friends.  She has been radio silent most of the afternoon since I once again affirmed that I preferred riding with the boys and their dates on the bus instead of in the limousine with her and her friends.  But the closer we got to the dance, the more she thawed out.  She had text messaged me about a thousand times throughout the afternoon as she was getting ready at the salon with the girls.  

We enter the gym, I follow behind Sam who is dateless by choice.  He is followed by Liam and brunette Julie, who is decked out in a low cut, navy corseted dress with silver ribbons threaded through the back.  Julie is gripping onto Liam for dear life as she takes tentative steps in her silver sandal heels. Chris is holding an all white corsage with a navy ribbon for his date Sophia who opted for the limo.  Max is with a sophomore girl whose name I had already forgotten, wearing a simple pale pink dress.

The rest of the guys are wearing the standard jock uniform for special occasions—khakis with a white dress shirt and navy tie and their letterman's jacket.  I feel overdressed in my slim cut navy suit and light blue oxford shirt.  I had even picked out a skinny silver tie to match Mackenzie’s dress. 

Mackenzie waves eagerly at me from across the gym.  I’m surprised she has that much range of motion.  She’s wearing a very tight, very sexy silver dress.  As I get closer, it appears that her skin is covered in a million particles of glitter.  She quite literally gives the impression of a sparkling trophy.  

I’m not really sure what the new dress code all the girls bemoaned actually banned as I walk through a sea of girls in equally revealing dresses.  My eyes continue to scan the crowd as I approach Mackenzie and her friends.  Fallon’s not here.  I don’t know if I should breathe a sigh of relief or feel disappointed.  Instead, I put on my happy face as I greet my date.

Mackenzie’s blond curls are trembling with excitement as we make our approach.  She eyes my suit and her glossy pink lips break into a huge smile, revealing her perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth.  “EEE-than, you look so amazing in that suit.”

“Thank you, Mackenzie.  You look....” I rack my brain for an adjective. “...dazzling,”  I’m not sure if it’s a compliment.  

She does a slow spin to show off all angles of the dress.  The very brief skirt flares out as she moves, showing off her long, slim legs.  She is almost as tall as me tonight in her towering silver heels.  The dress is backless, showing more of her tan, glittering skin.  

“Uhm, here.  I got this for you,”  I show her the white peony and silver ribbon corsage my mom had picked out.  She squeals with delight and unexpectedly throws her arms around me leaving a light dusting of glitter on my suit.  

She pulls back and sticks out a bronzed wrist to accept it.  As I attach it she gushes, “It’s perfect!  You have great taste.  Thank you, I really really love it.”

I shrug modestly, she can really overdo it, “Your welcome.”

Sam’s booming voice echoes through the room, “Fallon Pierce!  As I live and breathe...  Am I really witnessing this?  You?  At a dance.  I didn't think I would see the day.”  

I follow the sound his voice to over by the refreshments table, just in time to see Sam pick Fallon up in one of his signature rib cracking hugs.  Half the room is openly staring at them as he sets her back down on her feet.  Fallon grimaces, her face flushed with embarrassment from the sudden attention.  She’s wearing her usual leather jacket over a simple black dress.  I hardly recognize her.  She looks so beautiful that my heart aches to see her.  

“Neither did I, Sam.  But here I am.  Capital punishment wasn't an option,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Well you look fantastic, Fallon,” he says with a wide boyish grin.  He’s getting a kick out of her discomfort.  

A flicker of jealousy flares inside me at his easy familiarity with her but I quickly smother the feeling.  Sam is my friend.  I have no claim over Fallon.  Mackenzie loudly clears her throat and tugs on my elbow, trying to regain my attention.

Ignoring Mackenzie, I resist the urge to go up to Fallon.  But still I can’t tear my eyes away from her.  She really does look fantastic.  The simply beaded black dress fits her slim figure perfectly, highlighting her small waist and slender shoulders.  The black fabric against her lily white complexion makes her skin look iridescent.  I note the motorcycle boots with a smile.

Sam leans in and stage whispers next to her ear, “I would ask you to sit with our table, but the Wicked Witch of Everest Heights would have a house dropped on me.”

“Don't even worry about it.  I have a job to perform,” Fallon nods at the empty chair next to the punch bowl.  

He gives her a questioning look, “They have you serving punch?”

“My job is not that glamourous.  I’m supposed to be keeping troublemakers away from the punch which I’m not doing a very good job of at the moment.”  

“Are you suggesting that I am a troublemaker?”

Fallon rolls her eyes in response, “Do me a favor and try to keep your buddies from adding extra ingredients into the punch tonight?”

Sam's laugh is easygoing as he gives her a wink before replying solemnly, “I make no promises, Miss Pierce.”  

The corner of her mouth lifts in a small, crooked smile,  “Boys will be boys.”  

“Hey, save me a dance later?”

She gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “Yeah right, Samuel Jordan.  You know me better than that.”

“Right.  The no dancing rule.  Can't blame a guy for trying, right?  Have a good time tonight,” he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek.  The green eyed dragon roars inside me and I beat it back once again, finally forcing my eyes to tear away.  Sam rejoins our group and Mackenzie claws onto his forearm in an instant, chastising him in an angry, whispered voice as they walk to a table toward the front of the room.  It is going to be a very long night.

Fallon catches my eye and gives me a small, weary smile before turning away and busying herself with the punch bowl.  I turn and walk toward our table and take a seat next to Mackenzie who is still absolutely seething.  She is still whisperingly exasperatedly to Sam.  Emma is shifting uncomfortably, stuck sitting between them.  Sam brushes Mackenzie off in a way only he can.  

Unperturbed, Mackenzie and Emma start whispering in conspiring tones.  I recognize this from lunch, they are plotting something.  They straighten up and conversation at the table resumes.  Mackenzie places her hand on my forearm, giving me her most winning smile.  I have a hard time concentrating on their conversation.  Sam is leaning back in his chair, swirling his glass of punch, joking and laughing with Liam.  When I glance back toward the punch bowl, Fallon is already gone.

Fallon

Seeing Ethan and Mackenzie together was harder than I thought it would be.  He looks so dashing in that suit, his tie matching Mackenzie’s dress perfectly.  In fact, everything about them looks picture perfect--they make a beautiful, flawless couple.  Homecoming King and Queen personified.

I sneak a glance at them from under my lashes and my stomach twists as Mackenzie places her hand on Ethan’s arm possessively.  I try to focus on the pineapple rings floating in the punch but my vision blurs as tears well in my eyes.  Something is seriously wrong with me.  I was the one that pushed Ethan away.  Mackenzie’s laughter carries across the gymnasium, the sound cutting right through me.  

I think I’ve had enough of punch duty.  I pick up my bag from under the table and grab my jacket from the back of the chair.  I shrug on my jacket and slip out of the gymnasium through a side door leading to the girl’s locker room.  The door clicks quietly shut behind me.  I gulp in huge lungfuls of air, but I can’t seem to get the suffocating feeling to lift from my chest.  

I can still hear the muffled sounds of the music and chatter through the closed door.  I cut through the locker room and down another long empty hallway before exiting into the empty picnic area.  A rush of cool air hits my face and I take a deep, shuddering breath.  The quiet of the night is a relief.  I close my eyes as they start to water.  From the sting of the cold air, of course.  

Putting down my bag on the nearest faded red tabletop, I plop down on the bench.  I dash away a wayward tear with the sleeve of my jacket.  I know I'm still on the hook for clean up duty but I really just want to bail.  I’m angry at myself for trying to compete with Mackenzie for Ethan’s attention.  Seeing them together in all their perfection...  I’ve never felt so foolish.  

It’s gotten a lot cooler now and my exposed legs are cold, but I don’t care.  My head feels less cloudy out here in the clear outdoor air.  Or maybe its the distance from Ethan that allows me to think more logically.  My breathing is erratic from trying to suppress my tears.

I rest my arm on the table and press my forehead against it, trying to focus on my uneven breathing.  I am being completely illogical.  I have purposefully and willfully done everything in my power to avoid Ethan.  I have no claim on this boy yet there was no denying the gut wrenching jealousy I felt watching Ethan with Mackenzie.  Who was I kidding anyway?  Mackenzie always got what she wanted anyway.  It was the Mackenzie way of life.

“Is this seat taken?”  I whip my head up from the table.  Ethan is standing on the other end of the picnic table, pointing to the bench across from me.  My heart leaps in my throat.  I was so lost inside my head, I had not heard his approach.

I try to clear my throat, but my voice is still barely a whisper, “Uhm, no it’s not.  Please sit down.”  I almost smile, remembering our first interaction as these picnic tables.  I had thought in much simpler terms then.

Ethan slides into the bench, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sits.  His eyes are wary as he folds his elegant hands on top of the chipped red table.  He leans forward, letting out a gust of held breath, “So... You’re at Homecoming.”

“I didn't really have a choice,” I mumble back, concentrating on his folded hands against the faded backdrop of the table. 

“What do you mean?”

“Principal Mullens's idea of disciplinary action.  Punishment resulting from my out of character behavior on D-day.”

“D-day?”

I look up from the table to gauge his expression, “Dance day.  The day the invitations go out for Homecoming.  They call it D-day.”  

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Ahh... so this is your punishment for fighting with Mackenzie?”  

I bristle back, annoyed by his choice of words, “For defending myself against Mackenzie.  Zero tolerance policy and all that good stuff the school board likes to impose on the student body.”  

“So no in school detention or even suspension... your punishment is to be on the dance committee?”

“You can add shrink to his list of credentials.  Mullens’s thinks I’m too secluded from my peers,” I mutter, thinking back to what happened right before I ended up in Mullens’s office.  I look down at my right palm, which still has a small bandage on it after my last encounter with Ethan.

His derisive snort pulls me back into the present, “Really?  That’s what he chose?  How included did you feel?”

I roll my eyes at the memory of Gina ordering me around, “Basically, I was Gina's slave all week.  She seemed to thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.”  

He bites down on his bottom lip, fighting back a smile, “And you?  Did you enjoy it?”