Chapter Sixteen

Promposal

Kyle Huberman asked me to senior prom. He played baseball with Tucker and started eating lunch with us, sometimes coming over to Johnny's to hang out or going with our small group of friends to dinner at Gordie's on Friday nights. I liked him. He had freckles all over his face, reddish blonde hair and a goofy, asymmetrical smile, and he laughed at my jokes. Tucker always stood between us, I felt like he was hiding me, but one day Kyle found the space to ask me to a movie.

"She doesn't have time," Tucker answered for me, eavesdropping. When I gave him a look, he said, "You don't! You have ballet rehearsals."

He wasn't wrong, but I did go to a movie with Kyle that one time. He didn't try to kiss me or hold my hand, which I was glad of, but he put his eyes on me every few minutes, gauging my energy. I swallowed a lot. He went to get me a soda. My hands felt sweaty.

At some point that year, I became aware of the rumor about me and Tucker. Those in the know, like Kyle, understood we were not a couple, but that fact made me more nervous. He witnessed Tucker's handsy-ness and I feared he might think it was okay for him, that I was the kind of girl who liked having my hair touched or being thrown over someone's shoulder. So many things were only okay when Tucker did it because I trusted him, I liked playing with him, and I felt special to him. I didn't want any other boy to treat me that way.

The next weekend, Kyle did the whole promposal thing after a baseball game. I don't know how the coach allowed it. Right after they shook hands with the opposing team, he ran onto the field shouting my name. Four other teammates came rushing out with a sign and noisemakers. The stands had just started to clear out and Kyle yelled loudly, "Ella Moynes! Will you go to prom with me?!"

Everyone cheered. My face burned. I said yes, and Kyle broke into a smile.

Macy sat beside me in the bleachers, we didn't have rehearsal that Saturday, and she pushed me toward the dugout. "Go! Go talk to him!"

I was nervous and my heart beat out of my chest. I moved slowly toward the fence, waiting for Kyle to come out, but Tucker appeared first.

"Let's go," he growled.

I didn't drive to the home games because I felt uncomfortable with the tight parking lot. I would catch a ride some someone and always assumed that Tucker would drive me home, which he did.

"Wait," I argued.

"Ella - let's go ." His face was red, he was sweaty. He gripped his bag with one hand and reached for my arm with the other.

Kyle jogged up after him. "I'll take her home." He smiled at me, then looked at Tucker's hand on my elbow.

Tucker shook his head, moving his grip to my fingers. "No, I'm supposed to do it."

I protested, "Eli -" He tightened his hold on my hand. "Ow!"

His face shifted and he released me. "Sorry, I'm sorry." He exhaled. His eyes landed on Kyle, and he stared angrily at him for a moment before spitting, "Whatever. Do whatever you want."

I'd never seen him this angry before. I didn't know where it came from. He pitched a great game, they had won, and he usually would have swooped me up and spun me around, high on the thrill of victory. I considered he thought I stole his thunder. Then, I realized he might be angry for a different reason.

"Hold on," I told Kyle. "I'm going to talk to him. Just give me a minute."

He frowned. "Okay…"

I ran after Tucker. "What is your problem?" I demanded.

He opened his back door and tossed his bag in the seat. He slammed the door, opened it, slammed it shut again.

"Tucker!" I crossed my arms. "Are you mad at him? Are you…jealous?"

He cautiously met my eye. "He was only hanging out with us to get to you."

"So?"

"So, he's an asshole ." He pointed at me. "You can't go to prom with him."

I coughed an offended laugh. "Excuse me? Since when are you in charge of my life?"

"Since you need to be protected from assholes," he said.

"He's a nice guy."

"Yeah, sure." He shot, "I know you went out with him, by the way, Johnny told me."

"I wasn't keeping it a secret from you."

"Then, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't he tell me?"

I asked slowly, "Was I supposed to tell you?"

Did Tucker want to know about my romantic life? Johnny didn't care. He'd tell me about his opinion of the guy and then let me do whatever I wanted. But Tucker looked cheated, slighted, like I had done something wrong.

Tucker flinched. "Did he kiss you?"

Under Tucker's gaze, the question was an accusation. I didn't want to say yes , that would have resulted in more car door slamming, but I didn't want to say no , that would have given him too much satisfaction. I tucked my hair behind my eyes and muttered, "None of your business."

He interpreted that as a yes. He cursed under his breath. He walked around the front of his truck. "Are you coming or not?"

"No," I answered. "I'm going to ride with Kyle."

" Fine ."

The Friday night before prom, I got a text message from Kyle. I had just finished painting my nails and had a whitening strip on my teeth. My face broke into a smile when I saw his name, a smile that didn't last long.

Without explanation, he decided to go with someone else. He broke it off between us, at 9:34 the Friday night before senior prom.

I laid in my bed, my nails drying, holding my phone with a shaking hand, and stared at the chiffon floral printed dress that hung on the back of my closet door. My first thought: I'm not going to wear that dress.

Hattie had taken me shopping. When she tightened the straps and noticed the small cutouts on the sides, my tanned spring break skin showing, she covered her mouth and sighed. "God, I can just imagine Tucker's face when he sees you in this."

I spun around to look at the low back and the way the bottom of the dress waved over my hips. "He's not speaking to me," I had said.

For the month between Kyle asking me and the night before prom, Tucker ate lunch elsewhere. He didn't hang out in the parking lot after school, he went straight to baseball practice. He texted Johnny before they hung out to see if I was around. He didn't look at me in the hallway. He didn't leave me notes on my locker.

We're not really friends, I reminded myself.

The night that Kyle ditched me, I went into a panic. I called Johnny, sobbing, demanding that he take me to prom.

"I'm going with Sarah," he said. "Just go by yourself."

"I can't go by myself!" I wiped my snotty nose on my comforter. "Kyle will be there with whoever he left me for, and I'll feel like such an idiot sitting all by myself." I asked if he could call around, find someone who didn't have a date.

He said, "Call Tuck. There's got to be someone on the team he can hook you up with. A junior maybe."

I laughed at the thought. The last person I wanted to speak with was Tucker. He'd be so smug - I told you he was an asshole - and he'd prefer that I stay home in my sweatpants anyway.

I spent all of Friday night and Saturday morning in my bed, watching movies and texting my girlfriends while they went to get their hair and nails done. I called out of ballet rehearsals. I told everyone I was sick. At that point, I nearly was. After midday, someone knocked on my door.

"Hattie?" I sat up, watching my sister come in with her makeup bag. She should have been in Georgia, in grad school. I wasn't supposed to see her for weeks. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled. "Getting you ready for prom."

My throat clogged. "But I'm not going."

"I know what happened." She went to my vanity and turned on the lights.

I tucked my feet underneath me and said, "Mom called you?"

"No." She set her makeup on the counter. "Tucker did. And he paid for my gas."

"Wait, wait, wait." I crawled to the edge of the bed, watching her fix her dark bob, the sides of her mouth twitching. "What do you mean? Tucker called you and he told you to come here? Why would he do that, how does he even -"

"He's downstairs," she interrupted. "Dad's going to let him drive his car so you don't have to show up in that dirty truck. God knows what's growing in that thing." She raised her eyebrows at my confused expression. "He's taking you to prom."

"Tucker's taking me to prom?"

"Yes."

"And he's downstairs?"

"Yes."

I shot out of bed. My socks slid on the carpet, and I bounced down the stairs, running into the kitchen. My mom looked up from the soup she stirred on the stove. I skated to a stop and begged, "Where's Tucker?"

"Outside. Ask him if he wants any -"

I ran out into the garage. I scooted down the aisle between the van and the lawnmower and our bikes to where he stood beside my dad's silver BMW, the two of them talking. Tucker looked up when he saw me. His eyes softened. I walked up to him, my socks wet from the damp driveway, my oversized New York City Ballet shirt swinging in the breeze, my greasy hair sticking up.

"You're taking me to prom?" I awed. "But what about Angel? I thought you were going with her?"

My dad moved out of the way, and Tucker blinked, swallowing. He ran a hand through his hair. "She broke up with me."

"Oh."

Tucker paused. "So, I just figured…it makes sense for us…you know…"

"You called Hattie?"

His cheeks turned pink. "Well, I mean, I figured you'd need all the help you can get." He gestured to my appearance. "By the way, you should get started on that."

I didn't think I had tears left, but they sprang to the surface, my heart swelling. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around Tucker's waist. I buried my face into his chest and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I'd never hugged him before. We weren't huggers.

After a moment, his hands found their way to my back and his nose landed atop my head. "Please go wash your hair," he begged, hot breath hitting my scalp.

I lifted my head. "I promise, I'm going to be the hottest date you've ever had."

He winced. "That's what I'm afraid of."

I reached up and pulled his face down, kissing him on the cheek.

Tucker closed his eyes and sighed. He muttered to himself, "This is a bad idea."

After I showered and Hattie curled my hair, I stepped into my dress. I planned to not wear a bra, but she insisted on a strapless one, saying, "For the sake of that poor boy who is doing you a service, wear the bra." I wanted my hair up, but she argued against it. "Tucker likes your hair down." I didn't normally wear much makeup, but Hattie was always good with it. She used a light hand when applying foundation, saying, "You want him to be able to touch your face."

I squirmed. "Hattie, this is not a date ."

She ran body shimmer down the length of my arms. "Look, you are going to prom with a gorgeous boy who thinks you are the hottest thing in the world. Do you know how many girls would kill to be on his arm? Relax . Enjoy it."

I put small gold earrings in.

Hattie relaxed into a chair. "So, what's the plan with your friend group?"

"Um." I sat on the bed and slid my shoes on. "We're meeting at Johnny's for pictures and then going to dinner and then -" I stopped. "Do I have to, like, stand with Tucker for pictures?"

"Yes, he's your date."

"Is he going to buy my dinner?"

"Of course."

"How do you know?"

She lifted her mouth in a half smile. "Because he's Elijah Tucker. If you said, ‘ Hey can you fly up to Saturn and steal me a ring, ' he wouldn't hesitate. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you." She started putting her makeup away. "I don't know why you're always saying that Johnny's your best friend and you and Tucker are just acquaintances . Johnny would never do any of the things Tucker does for you."

There was a knock at the door. It creaked open and my mom and Lori peeked their heads inside. Their jaws dropped and they started with the whole, oh my god you look so beautiful speech. My mom spun me around to look at the spaces of exposed skin on my dress.

"Hattie said it was fine," I argued.

My mother grimaced. "Well, Hattie dresses a little more suggestively than I would like."

"Ella is worse!" my sister argued.

Lori snapped a picture of me with her phone. "Elijah's downstairs. He's actually very nervous. I've never seen him nervous for a girl."

"He's probably freaked out by all of this." I gestured to their presence.

My mother and Lori exchanged a look. "Also, Ella, Lori had a talk with Eli about you two."

I balked. "What kind of talk?"

"We want you to be safe," Lori said. "We're realistic. We can't keep you two apart all of the time. Eli has protection -"

"Oh my God!" I covered my face. "Please stop!"

I marched toward the door and hurried out of the room, trying to get away from that conversation. I came down the stairs to Tucker standing by the fireplace in a dark suit, his hair slicked back, a box in his hand. My dad was helping fix his tie.

Tucker turned his head. He froze, his eyes staring me, watching me cross the living room. " Jesus Christ ," he breathed.

"You look nice," I said brightly.

"You, um…" He ran his eyes over my dress and hair. Hattie was right about the hair. His jaw muscles popped. "You look beautiful." He swallowed. "I mean, you always look beautiful, but you look really…" He trailed off.

I tapped the object in his hand. "Is that for me?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." He took the corsage out of the box. His hands shook. He dipped his head low - we had an audience - and mumbled, "I don't know why I feel so fucking nervous." I held out my hand and he slipped the flowers onto my wrist.

Hattie came up beside me and handed me his. "I picked this up on my way into town."

Strangely, I didn't feel nervous. Tucker's energy shook and mine stayed calm. His eyes bore into mine while I pinned the flower onto his jacket. I squeezed the sides of his arms. "Calm down," I mouthed.

He exhaled and nodded.

"Okay, we're going over to Johnny's for pictures."

My mother said, "We're coming, too!"

"Of course you are," I said. I took Tucker's hand, pulling him with me to the door. I kept our hands together as we crossed the front yard to Johnny's, where our friends were assembling at his front door. Tucker looked at our joined hands several times. He was usually the confident, charming, suave one. I usually needed to be steadied.

Mrs. Wagner said, "Tucker, hop down a step. You'll tower over everyone. Who's your date?"

"I am," I announced.

Johnny's eyes narrowed. "How did this work out?"

Tucker didn't answer, just looked at the ground. I stood in front of him while our parents snapped pictures and I muttered, "You can put your hands on me. You actually have permission now."

His hands hung at his sides. I reached back to grab them and wrapped his arms around me. I heard his breath sharpen and felt his body stiffen. As we dispersed for our separate cars, Lori asked for a few more of just me and Tucker. She wanted one where our heads were aligned. I climbed up two steps and slung my arms around his neck.

"This is the perfect ass-grab moment," I whispered. "It's right there."

His hand brushed against the side of my leg. "If I touch your ass, my mom's going throw another condom at me."

I snorted a laugh and settled his hand on my waist. "Thank you for this," I said. "I'm sure you would rather be here with your girlfriend."

Tucker's hand tightened, pulling me closer. His eyes focused on my face. "I'd always rather be with you."

I smiled. I turned my head and kissed him on the cheek.

He breathed, "You have to stop doing that."

Hattie called out, "That's the one." She put her phone down with a smirk. "I'll save that one for your wedding."

Tucker didn't relax at the restaurant. In the bathroom, Sarah said, "What's up with him tonight? He's so quiet."

When she and I returned to the table, I realized what was different. In a different setting, he would flick my leg when I walked by or tickle my sides. He would drape his arm across my shoulder, and I'd smack it off. He'd get close to my face, make some comment about how good my hair smells, tease me about my bare back.

However, tonight he was my date. As I sat in my chair, he sat up stiffly beside me. He didn't touch me or talk to me, and I ached for it. Despite his strange behavior, I was glad Kyle bailed on me and that Angel broke up with him. Tucker would have spent the whole time glowering at Kyle and I'd spend the whole time uncomfortably watching him with her.

I kept throwing him looks, waiting for him to crack. Before our food came, he finally looked over and asked me, " What ?"

I pushed out of my chair and took his hand. "We need to talk." I dragged him into the hallway bathroom.

He raised his hands, questioning.

"Stop being weird!" I demanded.

Tucker fell back against the opposite wall, rubbing his face. "Well, this situation is weird."

"Why did you offer to take me if you don't to be here with me?"

"I do want to be with you!" He sighed. "And I want you to have a nice time, and I'm afraid I'm going to mess it up."

"How?" I crossed my arms.

He threw me a look. "Tonight is different . We're not just friends of friends or whatever you like to call it - we're on a…" He stopped, going rigid.

I inhaled, sharp and surprised. "Are we on a date?"

He stared at the ground.

"Elijah?"

He flinched when I said his name. He grumbled, "I don't know."

I imagined Tucker on dates all the time. I considered that he did everything he did with me - touch them, tell them they're beautiful, lean in a little too close. He projected confidence all of the time.

I crossed the space between us, asking, "Do you want it to be a date?"

Tucker searched my face. "I just don't want to mess it up."

My stomach swooped. Even if that wasn't yes , it was something near to it. It wasn't no . I wouldn't have said no , either. In fact, he looked so handsome in his suit, his face so innocent and nervous, that I found myself saying, "We could try it out."

He blinked. "Try what?"

I muttered, "A date."

His chest heaved and his spine straightened, his eyebrows knitting together, his eyes trying to read every line on my face as though I might be joking or tricking him. "Is that what you want?"

"Well, if it makes things easier between us." I shrugged. "I guess we could give it a try. Do you want to?"

"Yes," he said immediately. "My mom's going to be really glad I have all those rubbers."

" Stop it !" I pushed his smirking face away. My cheeks turned pink. "Our food is here."

Tucker glanced back at the table. His face fell. "We can't let Johnny see."

"Good thing he doesn't know you've already kissed me." I tried to laugh it off, but it was the wrong time to bring that up. Tucker stared at my mouth. I remembered what his hands felt like. We hadn't talked about it.

I took a step back. "Um, if we were on a date that we were keeping secret from our best friend, what would happen next?"

He leaned his forehead against mine, smiling, and my breath hitched. He wove his fingers into mine. "Come on."

Tucker led me back to the table. He sat down after me, Johnny's eyes scrutinizing our steps. I gasped a little when Tucker scooted my chair closer to his. He relaxed his arm around the back of my chair. As we ate dinner and joked easily with our friends, his thumb drew circles on my shoulder.

I tried to focus on my chicken and not think, I'm on a date with Elijah Tucker. I'm on a date with Elijah Tucker.

His hands ran down the length of my hair, brushing against my shoulder blades. He kept checking in with his eyes, raising a brow, asking if it was okay. My body was familiar with every move he made, but I had never put my hands on him, except to knee him in the groin or tackle him to the ground. I'd never been affectionate like he was with me.

My heart slammed into my chest. I put my right hand on his knee. He looked at me sidelong, and his fingers fell on my knuckles, caressing them. He turned my hand to gently trace the lines of my palm with feather-light touches, never removing his eyes from mine. Our hands pressed together. Our fingers twisted. If I looked down, I might not tell whose was whose. I felt dizzy and lightheaded. The rest of the table turned into a blur.

I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him to push me up against a wall like he did on the cruise and drag his tongue through my mouth. I thought of how his hand moved inside my Sugar Plum costume, and how hard he breathed against my open back. If his hand had moved a little higher, he would have touched my boob.

I suddenly understood why our parents were so insistent about open doors and condoms.

The check came, Tucker paid for our food, and we went back to my dad's car. I felt nervous now that we were alone and had no eyes watching us.

Before we left the parking lot, he asked, "Still good?"

I nodded.

Tucker reached his hand out, and I gave him mine. He brought my knuckles to his mouth and kissed them. He sighed, "God, Ella. Even your hands are perfect."

I thought it should feel weird. I thought it would be strange, but it wasn't, not any of it.

I thought: I'm so glad we're not friends.