Making Out (13 page)

Lisa Marie beamed. “Fabulous!”

“Me, too,” Marianna said, glowing with total happiness.

What could be better than this? Prom night . . . Luke . . . her dress and the corsage he'd brought her . . . her friends nearby . . .

She never wanted it to end.

The DJ segued into a slow song, and Luke pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder. Their hipbones were almost touching.

“We should have been doing this all year,” he whispered in her ear.

Ummmm. She wanted to stay in his arms all night . . . forever . . .

When the slow song ended, Luke took her hand and nodded toward the exit. “Let's get something to drink.”

Marianna followed him happily. She was dying of thirst—they'd been dancing forever.

She thought he would head for the refreshment table the prom committee had set up, with soft drinks in plastic cups and platters of finger foods, but he passed it by. Instead, he led her to the elevator in the lobby. “Brad has a keg in his car,” he explained, pushing the down button.

Even the elevator ride was a turn-on. Alone in a cozy space . . .

She nestled close to him, and they both spontaneously looked up at the mirrored ceiling, their eyes meeting at the same time. It made them laugh.

Too bad the door opened so soon. Marianna thought he'd been about to kiss her, but just then they arrived at the parking garage.

In the dimly lit garage, a couple of other St. Claire's guys were standing at the back of a Ford Explorer a few rows down, just about to close the hatch.

“Leave it open,” Luke called.

The guys left the rear door up and strolled past Luke and Marianna with red plastic cups in their hands.

“Hey, Perchik,” one of them said.

“Hey, Perchik's chick,” the other said.

Luke and the guys laughed, and Marianna glowed more. Was it true? Was she Luke's official girlfriend?

He squeezed her hand. “Feels good to get away from the noise for a while,” he said.

When they reached the car, he let go of her hand and drew off two cups of beer into red plastic cups. “They match the prom committee's cups, so we can take them upstairs,” he said.

“Clever.” Marianna took a drink and closed her eyes. The cold beer felt wonderful on her hot, parched throat.

“Yeah,” Luke said. “Brad's idea.”

“Bradley Boulter? He's with Lisa Marie tonight.”

“No. Brad Morganthal.”

Oh, right. Morganthal was on the cross-country team.

“Have I mentioned you look amazing?” Luke said, pulling her close to him with one arm. He bent his head slightly, and Marianna lifted her face instinctively for the kiss. She closed her eyes as she felt his soft lips on hers. This was better than the beer. When Luke pulled back, his eyes were dancing. “Want to spend the night in the Lincoln Bedroom?” he asked.

Marianna's eyes popped open wide. The Lincoln Bedroom . . . at the
White House
? Could he possibly be serious? She knew a few girls who had gone to the White House for parties with the president's daughters. But how on earth . . .

“You're kidding, right?” she said.

A grin spread across Luke's face, and he nodded toward a long black Lincoln Town Car parked a few spaces away. “Right there. Dave Smethurst rented it and dubbed it the Lincoln Bedroom. A bunch of us chipped in. I think it's occupied right now, though.”

Marianna glanced and saw the back of a white prom dress on someone who wasn't exactly sitting up straight. She couldn't see much through the windows, though—they were tinted pretty dark.

“Looks busy in there,” she said.

“Yeah. We'll come back later,” Luke said.

She smiled up at him, and he pulled her close for another long kiss, this one more passionate. Marianna felt light-headed. She'd been waiting a long time to feel these things. To be kissed like that . . .

It was definitely not a letdown.

She put one hand on the back of Luke's head, wishing she didn't have a beer in her other hand. Wishing she could just spend the rest of the prom right there in the parking garage.

She'd danced enough already, shown off her dress and her shoes and her guy to enough people, gotten enough compliments to last a while. Now all she wanted was some alone time with Luke, making out, getting lost in his arms.

She hadn't really decided how far she'd let him go—that wasn't something you planned in advance, was it? But there was one thing she was sure about: She wouldn't go all the way. She wasn't ready for that yet.

Luke kissed her cheek and then took her hand, leading her back into the hotel.

What time was it, anyway? Marianna wondered. She had already calculated that it was eleven minutes from the hotel to her house. That left nineteen minutes to fool around after the prom ended. Assuming they stayed for the whole thing . . .

Luke looked down at the cymbidium orchid corsage he had pinned to the strap of her dress.

“Oops. Sorry. I think I crushed your flower,” he said.

“That's okay,” Marianna said. “Crush it all you want.”

 

 

 

 

“I thought you were here with me,” Bradley shouted as Lisa Marie rocked out on the dance floor.

What? She couldn't really hear him. And to be honest, she didn't exactly care what he was saying. She was having more fun than a girl had the right to expect on prom night.

Who wouldn't want to dance in her shoes? Although she had to admit, the Jimmy Choo knockoffs were beginning to hurt. She was surrounded by five gorgeous guys, all of them vying for her attention, bringing her drinks when she took a break (she loved rum and Coke, thank you, Marco, for carrying that flask in your jacket), and making her feel like the queen of the prom. For all the other girls who were there with just one guy Lisa Marie felt nothing but pity.

Bradley mouthed some words again, this time pointing to Lisa Marie, and then to himself. “Can we dance one of these alone?”

Okay—so there was a downside to having five dates. Bradley was becoming a pest. Lisa Marie made a face, pretending she couldn't hear him over the music, and turned her back. She found herself dancing face-to-face with the one guy she could see going solo with. The one who knew how to push all her buttons . . . all the good buttons, anyway.

Li'l D was wearing a black tux with a black shirt that was open at the neck—no tie. His dreadlocks were pulled back and tied behind his head, making his architectural cheekbones even more noticeable.

“Hey, baby,” Li'l D said. He eyed her black satin dress. “Nice gown.”

Lisa Marie smiled, and Li'l D returned the smile with a barely perceptible nod. Everything about him was minimalist and cool. He hardly moved when he danced, but he moved enough so you could tell he was feeling it—feeling the music, feeling her. It worked.

“Yeah,” Li'l D nodded approvingly. “You are by far the best-dressed bitch at the ball.”

Lisa Marie laughed, loving the way he talked. He had this uber-cool street cred/attitude thing going on, but at the same time, it was obvious there was a lot more to him.

Li'l D moved closer, close enough so that their bodies bumped every once in a while. His eyes drilled into hers, like he was seeing her soul and simultaneously exploring every intimate crevice of her body and brain. Lisa Marie had to admit that when he looked at her that way, she had a change of heart: Maybe it wasn't better to be there with five different guys. If she and Li'l D could spend some time alone getting to know each other, just talking . . .

She twirled and caught a glimpse of Bradley, who was glaring at her from the edge of the dance floor. What's his problem? Did he really think she was going to dump all these other guys and just hang with him?

Oh, Christ. Now Ramone was staring at her, too, looking pissed off.

Screw it, Lisa Marie thought. She didn't owe them anything. They'd
all
been playing with her at Starbucks—she knew that without a doubt. If she'd taken any one of them too seriously, she'd be the one getting burned.

Besides, the word around school was that Ramone was trying to get back with Tara, his ex. So let him.

Lisa Marie let herself go with the music, bumping and grinding when she turned her back on Li'l D, then pressing up against him when they were face-to-face. Then a slow song came on the sound system. She waited, wondering if Li'l D would take her in his arms, but he didn't. He just kept moving to the music, close to her, drilling her with his intense eyes.

That's okay, too,
she thought, matching his mood, slowing down, moving the way he did. There was something even sexier about dancing so slow and close, without touching.

Was this the best night of her life? Duh.

A lot of people had left the dance floor, ready for a break, or a drink, or whatever. They were probably headed upstairs, she decided. Some of the wealthier kids had rented hotel suites for the night, for after-parties, even though it was technically against school rules. From what John had said, she figured she'd be going up to one of the parties, too—but not yet. She had no desire to leave the dance while Li'l D was still there.

Just as Li'l D reached out to put both his arms around her waist, the crowd thinned a little, and Lisa Marie caught a glimpse of Todd standing on the other side of the room.

He was just standing there all alone, staring at her.

How long had he been doing that? It creeped her out a little bit. Not because he could ever be a stalker or anything. He just looked so lonely . . .

For a minute she felt a pang of guilt. Poor guy. All alone at the prom, couldn't get a date . . . Except . . . why should she feel guilty?
You dumped me, remember?

As soon as Todd caught her eye, he headed toward her, making a beeline straight through the dancers.

Oh, no. Not now. Please . . . don't spoil this moment. Was he actually going to cut in?

Yup.

He tapped Li'l D on the shoulder. “Do you mind?” he said. Li'l D didn't say a word. He simply backed off without an argument, putting his hands in the air as if to say,
She's all yours
. But he gave Lisa Marie a sexy wink right before he turned away.

“What?” Lisa Marie asked, putting her left hand on Todd's shoulder and her right hand in his palm. At least she wasn't going to dance close with him or let him wrap his arms around her possessively in front of the whole school.

“What's wrong? You can't even stand to dance with me now?” Todd sounded like a hurt puppy.

“Look—you broke up with me,” Lisa Marie snapped. “So I'm just not sure what you're doing.”

“I told you I wanted to get back together,” Todd said, waltzing her gracefully around the floor.

Weird,
Lisa Marie thought. She hadn't realized Todd knew how to waltz. Or that he was such a smooth dancer. Was this the first time they'd ever slow-danced together? It couldn't be. She tried to think back, but the rum and Coke had made her head feel kind of fuzzy.

“Sorry, Todd,” she said. “But I'm here with a lot of friends.”

But she didn't have to say that last part—he got the message. When the song ended a moment later, he just said, “Thanks,” and walked away.

One thing you could say for the guy: He wasn't dumb.

 

 

 

 

As Heather walked back into the ballroom, the DJ turned on the disco ball again, and the sparkling light began flashing everywhere, like little bits of mirrored confetti raining down on the prom.

Where was Tony, anyway? she wondered. It was getting late. If they were going to hang out, they'd better hook up soon.

By now, some of the black streamers had fallen from the ceiling and were littering the floor. Fewer people were dancing, although the floor was still crowded enough so that you couldn't see straight across it. Clumps of people had spilled out into the lobby, where they were lounging, kicking off their shoes and stripping off their ties, or just hanging out in the halls outside the ballroom.

The prom's almost over,
Heather thought. And she still hadn't had enough fun, drama, or memorable experiences to fill a diary page.

If she was going to make this one count, she had to get busy.

She headed for the refreshment table, deliberately taking a wide path around Katie and her friends who were huddled off to the side, talking on someone's speakerphone cell, trying to solve the big crisis, whatever it was.

“Hey!” Lisa Marie came up to Heather at the refreshment table and squeezed her arm. “Having fun? Where's Tony?”

“I haven't seen him yet.”

“Oh, wow.” Lisa Marie searched the crowd herself. “I saw him a few minutes ago . . .”

Well, at least he's here,
Heather thought. She was afraid maybe he was going to be a no-show.

“Don't worry about me. I'll bump into him sooner or later,” Heather said.

And if she didn't? She'd have to cope. There were plenty of other guys out there she could experiment with. Marty Alexander, for one. She could feel him eyeing her every time she passed the group of guys he was hanging with.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Lisa Marie asked, clearly worried that Heather was having a bad time.

God. This was the last thing she needed—Lisa Marie pitying her.