Chapter Eighteen

Prom Night

We arrived at the Pine Place Conference Center, where the prom was being held. Tucker parked the car in the parking garage, and we walked in together, our friends nowhere in sight. He reached for my hand, still tentatively, still wondering if it was okay. I was visibly nervous but giddy. My face was so red because I kept trying to bite back a smile.

We stood in the elevator together, alone. The door closed and we looked at our reflection in the mirrors all around us.

"Well, this is a fucking weird sight," Tucker laughed. I was glued beside him, my hand tied in his.

I laughed, too. Then I groaned, "Is it too weird?"

"No," he said immediately to my reflection. He turned me to face him. "Please don't take it back. Not yet ."

I searched the urgency in his face and the elevator doors opened. I heard the sound of music coming down the hall. I walked out, still holding his hand, and questioned, "What do you mean yet ?"

"We haven't even gotten to the good part."

I blushed. "You can keep your condoms where you can't reach them."

He snickered, "My brain didn't go there, but I like that yours did. You dirty, dirty girl."

I covered my face, " Elijah ."

He pulled my hand away and looked down the hallway, dragging me into a stairwell. I had flashbacks to our cruise. I thought: this is it. He's going to kiss me again. This is the good part.

Tucker held both of my hands to his mouth, and he leaned up against the wall. He let out a breath. "Look, I'm trying to do first date stuff with you and that feels really, really impossible right now."

"Why?" I wondered.

He kissed my wrist-bones. "Because I don't normally get handsy on a first date."

"You don't?" I didn't want to think about him with other girls.

"Who do you think I am?"

I blushed again. I anticipated doing a lot of that during the course of the night. "I mean, it's just, with me…"

"Because it's you," he whispered.

"So, you treat your dates with respect?" I surmised. "And you don't respect me?"

"I respect you more than anyone, except for maybe my mother." He inhaled long and slow from his nose. "But I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you. And I don't need to get to know you because I already know everything about you."

I rolled my eyes and swayed backward. "You don't know everything -"

"Yes, I do." He snatched me back to him. The stairwell light buzzed. Tucker rested his forehead on mine. "Even the things you think I don't know, I know."

I looked at his closed eyelids, the way he breathed me in. He muttered, "Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Why do you always look so beautiful all the time?" His face contorted in pain.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

We breathed like that together for a moment, Tucker hunched down against the wall, my chin up to meet him. I thought of all the times I'd fallen asleep beside him, the times I'd sat in a car beside him, the times I jumped in the pool naked because he said I wouldn't do it. I wanted to pretend that the Tucker that played video games in Johnny's bedroom with me or screamed "I love you, Ella," in the school intercom was a different version of the boy sharing my oxygen right now.

But Tucker my prom date was the same Tucker who tossed me over his shoulder at a party, dumped my beer into the grass and shoved me in his truck. The same Tucker who let me listen to Taylor Swift and bought me ice cream when he drove me home after a baseball game.

I wanted to ask. I knew I could ask him anything.

I said, "What do you want to do on our first date that you wouldn't with anyone else?"

He lifted his head. "Well, for starters, I wouldn't tell you all of this shit."

I giggled. "You'd play it cool?"

"Yeah, of course." He focused on my neck. "And I want to do this ." He dipped a kiss under my jaw.

It made me ticklish and fluttery.

He breathed down the side of my neck. His hands moved to my waist. "And this." He kissed my shoulder. His hands moved up my sides. They pressed into my back, pulling me closer to him, and my head fell back, allowing him to kiss my throat. When he cupped the sides of my face, steadying my head, a door above us closed. Footsteps walked down the stairs, and I pulled Tucker's hands from me.

He nonchalantly nodded to whoever was behind me, I refused to look, and he seemed very calm and cool about it all, like he normally made out with girls in stairwells.

He probably did.

"Hey," I started. "What's going to happen in there? In prom?"

"Orgies."

"Sicko."

Tucker settled his hands back on my waist. "Dancing, hanging out…but you meant something specific." He squinted. He eyed his hands. "You mean with us?"

I liked hearing him use the word us to describe what was happening.

I considered what I needed. "Well, I just…I don't think I want everyone…people are going to look and talk-"

"Half the school thinks we're already dating. I saw Zoey in the hallway last week and she asked about you, referring to you as my girlfriend , and she's your blood relative." He slid his hands from me. "Is this about Johnny?"

He couldn't think…

"You don't want Johnny to know?" he asked, a little bit angry.

I said quietly, "Know what exactly? That we're in a stairwell right now or that we're kind of on a date?"

"Kind of?"

"Help me out here," I begged. "I'm just figuring this out as I go."

He straightened up. "Or is this about Kyle? Or Ryan Rice?"

I started, "Ryan Rice?" Then, I realized, "You're jealous ."

He widened his eyes. "I've had to sit in a fucking dugout or locker room for years listening to guys talk about how hot you are - I'm not the only one with eyes, Ella." His expression shifted. "And you wanted to be here with Kyle anyway. Anyone could have offered to take you to prom-"

I grabbed his face and pulled it to mine. Our lips met.

I didn't plan on kissing him. I was on my way to tell him that I didn't want him kissing me in front of the others, that I wasn't ready for that, but I needed Tucker to know that he's the only boy I've ever wanted touching me. Whether I knew it or not.

I pulled back just as his hands returned to me and his lips began to move.

I whispered, "Just shut up."

" Dammit, Ella ," he whimpered, his eyes still closed.

I giggled. "You only say that when I knee you in the nads."

He opened his eyes. "The sentiment is the same."

My hands went to his shoulders. I leaned back as he came toward me again, "I want to take it slow, okay? There's a lot that can…combust."

He nodded, running his hands over my face. "Yeah, I got you."

If he and I started dating and it went poorly, that would affect our relationship with Johnny, our Christmas Eve dinners, our family vacations, and maybe even our mothers' relationship. Gracie and Steven were pretty serious, so there was a chance they'd end up married and our family dynamic would be tattered.

I said, "We should go out there."

He took my hand and opened the door. In the hallway, I wrapped my arm around his as we walked toward the music. I pointed out, "By the way, you're the one who said we can't let Johnny see that we're on a date."

He stayed silent. I watched the turmoil on his face.

"I've never had a single romantic thought about him, ever," I explained.

Tucker stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. I jolted and whiplashed backward.

He said, "Have you thought about me like that?"

I could lie. I could say, well it's only because you initiate it. The truth is that I've had Tucker's hands on me and enjoyed it, whereas Johnny's never touched me, and I never wanted it. Gracie once referred to Tucker as a brother figure and I gagged at the idea. Johnny felt like a brother. Tucker could never.

"Yes," I answered. I wanted to explain it further. "When I look at Johnny, I see the five-year-old version of him and I think he does for me, too. I could never be romantic with him, that's disgusting."

I smiled at our tied-up arms. "But with you…I've never not known you. When I look at you, all I see is you. This you. In ten years, it'll be that version of you. It's easy to imagine being, I don't know, romantic, I guess, because it feels like you're a part of me."

He inhaled slowly, and his eyes darted from the prom entrance to me. Classmates walked past. He groaned, "Okay, I have to kiss you now."

I nodded.

Tucker wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a gentle kiss. He said into my mouth, "God, Ella. I did not think tonight would turn out like this ."

Inside, we found our friends and Tucker shook off his jacket at the table. I went to go talk to my friends from dance, he went to his baseball buddies. He stared at me from across the dance floor. I tried to explain to Macy what was happening.

"I thought you were coming with Kyle Huberman?"

I saw Kyle sitting alone at a table, looking at Tucker and looking at me. I didn't know who he came with, and I didn't care.

"I'm with Tucker," I told Macy. Saying it that way - I'm with Tucker - made me wonder if I was with him. What did tomorrow look like? Next week? This summer? I felt tingly at the thought of him as my boyfriend for real, knowing that we had committed to colleges hours from each other.

He walked over, taking my hand. "Dance with me?" he asked.

"You know how to dance?"

He pulled me into the crowd of kids. "Well, there's stuff you taught me…" He smirked. "But yeah, a little bit. Gavin's been making us take dance lessons for his wedding."

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he settled his on my hips. I dropped my jaw. "Who are you practicing dancing with?"

"My mom." He rolled his eyes.

Thinking of our dynamic, I wondered why she hadn't asked me to take lessons with him. Jake and Steven had long-term girlfriends. Tucker had only dated Angel for two months, Lori wouldn't want her around for wedding preparations.

He said, "But she said I should ask you."

"Why didn't you?"

His hands moved along my rib cage, his fingers sliding against the bared flesh, and my breath stopped. He swallowed, his mouth against my cheek. "Because I'd want to do this ."

I forced myself to remember we were in a room without our entire senior class and then some, people who already thought of us as a couple, but some who did not. I saw my Aunt Zoey, who transferred to the high school a year earlier, pouring soda. She thought we were dating, and she's witnessed us in my home, on our birthday, on holidays.

Tucker's hands ripped from my body.

Johnny pulled on my hand. "I'm gonna jump in," he said, not a question.

Tucker stepped back and clenched his jaw. We stared at each other, not sure what to do. I relaxed, putting my hands on Johnny's shoulders, and Tucker drilled a hole into the back of his head. I motioned with my eyes and Tucker reluctantly backed away, but he never stopped watching us.

Johnny demanded, "Why are you here with him?"

"Because Kyle ditched me."

He shook his head. "He's making moves on you, isn't he? Ella, tell him to stop ."

"What?" I gasped. "Why do you care what he does?"

"He's a player. He's got a new girl every week."

"He wouldn't do that with me, though."

"Oh, so something is going on between you two?" He waited for a response that never came. Johnny grabbed my arm and tugged me off to the corner of the room. "Ella, I called him last night and asked if he had anyone that could take you to prom."

"And?"

"He said he was going with Angel. So where is she?"

I paused. "He said she broke up with him."

Johnny eyed me with pity. "I guarantee you he broke up with her . Because he was tired of her. And then he needed someone to take to prom and you were available."

I looked up over his head, finding Tucker at the table, watching us. I told Johnny, "You know him. He wouldn't do that to me."

"He doesn't think about that. He thinks he can have you for tonight and everything will go back to normal tomorrow."

"You're wrong," I said. "You don't really know about us. We have something outside of our friendship with you."

Johnny groaned, "Really? Ella, come on . He's an opportunist. I love the guy but I'm looking out for you. You're just the girl for the night because he needed someone."

I thought of how he touched me. That couldn't be faked.

Johnny said, "He always thought you were hot. He just wanted a piece of you, Ell, I'm sorry but that's the truth." He pinched his eyes shut. "I told him to leave you alone. I knew he would ruin everything if he did something about it."

"No." I backed up. "You don't know what you're talking about."

I half believed it. Part of me saw the Tucker I knew on our family vacations, in my house, the version who wouldn't do anything to hurt me because it would upset his mother. But he had a life with Johnny, with his guy friends, outside of me. Who's to say which version of him was the one who pulled me into a stairwell.

"Whatever, I'm just telling you," Johnny said. He walked off.

I stood alone, wishing I knew how to feel. Right then, two girls from my grade came up to me. They held a plastic cup in each hand. As they stood in front of me, pushing me into a corner, they said, "This is for Angel." They tipped all four cups over my head, spilling Cheerwine all down my body.

One of them said, "You're such a whore, Ella."

The other said, "Fuck you."

After a moment of shock, I screamed, the cold liquid dripping down my head. It went between my body and my dress, over my carefully applied makeup, and down my back. My scalp stung from ice cubes. Everyone watched. I tried to breathe, but my vision blurred. I was so humiliated and angry and confused. A figure appeared in front of me.

"Ella?" Tucker said.

"Take me home," I ordered through tears. I stomped through the room, all eyes on me, and ran when I got into the hallway.

"Ella!" Tucker called out after me.

I didn't want to stop moving. I didn't want to stand in an elevator with him and have him try to hold my hand. I pushed open the stairwell door, walking past the place where I'd just kissed him, and hurried down the stairs. The smell of the soda burned. It dripped into my ear, down the tip of my nose. Droplets flicked off when I ran into the parking garage. I bolted to my dad's car and tugged on the locked handle.

Tucker came up beside me, but I pushed him away. "Don't touch me!" I screamed.

He was pale, hands up, afraid. "What happened?"

" You happened!" I spat. My body convulsed with tears. I pulled on the door handle over and over again until Tucker said:

"Okay!" He unlocked the door and opened it for me.

I sat down and put on my seatbelt. I thought of how pissed my dad would be when he discovered sticky soda marking the seat of his precious car. A black tear hit my lap, staining my ruined dress further.

Tucker got in the car and asked, "What did he say to you?"

He had been watching long enough to know that everything shifted when Johnny pulled me away from him. That's why he didn't want Johnny to see us, I realized. Because Johnny knew the truth.

I covered my face and ordered, "Just go ."

He quietly drove out of the garage. On the way home, he peppered quiet questions, begging me to explain, but I stayed silent. I couldn't speak between the sobs. My breathing quickened. I felt panic rise. I didn't know what upset me more - losing the perfect moments I'd had with Tucker, having my hair and dress ruined, or being embarrassed in front of everyone.

I couldn't breathe. It was the same panic attack I'd had before my driver's test, my first Sugar Plum performance and my last AP Chemistry test.

I demanded, "Stop the car."

"What?"

"Pull over!"

Confused, Tucker pulled into a small shopping center parking lot. I looked into the dark windows of the art studio I took classes at in elementary school. I jumped out of the car, prying at my cold, wet dress.

Tucker came around to the sidewalk. "What are you doing?"

I nearly tripped on the curb, hysterical and clawing at the straps of the dress. I couldn't get it off, but I needed it off . I needed to be able to breathe and I needed to not feel the burn of what had just happened. I reached for the bottom of my dress.

" Ella ," Tucker hissed, coming over to hold my arms down. "We are in public!"

I swatted his hands away. "I don't care!"

I peeled the dress over my head and let it fall into a damp heap on the sidewalk. I sucked in air, mindlessly thankful that I let Hattie talk me into the wearing the bra.

Tucker grabbed my bicep and demanded, "Get in the car." He didn't let up when I tried to push him away. His hands dug into my skin. I fell into the seat, and he shut the door before scooping up my dress.

"Good God, Ella," he groaned, coming back into the driver's seat. He threw his jacket at me. "Put that on!"

"Everything is ruined," I cried into my hands.

"Because some bitchy girls poured soda on your head?" He gripped my knee. " Talk to me . Tell me what happened."

I said, "You lied to me, didn't you? About Angel?"

He didn't move his hand, but he did move his gaze. He stared at my shoes.

"You broke up with her the night before prom. What a dick!"

"I didn't want to hurt her," he said slowly. "But I wanted - you needed -"

Someone knocked on Tucker's window. The light of a flashlight landed on my bare leg, where he was holding it, and a police officer said, "Roll the window down."

Tucker groaned, " Fuck ."

It didn't occur to me then why the officer would have come to the door. I knew I shouldn't be stripping my clothes off in public, but I didn't think we'd caused any real offense or done anything wrong. Tucker knew immediately what the officer would think was happening.

We were in a parked car after prom. I was half-naked and crying. He had his hand on my leg.

He rolled the window down. The police officer made his assumptions, asked his questions, and asked me if I was okay. When he was unsatisfied with the answers, he said, "I'm going to have you both step out of the vehicle."

I put on Tucker's jacket and held it closed in front of my body. I was instructed to sit on the curb while the officer interrogated Tucker beside the car.

"How old are you?" he asked him.

Tucker replied, "Eighteen."

The officer didn't buy that for a second - everyone assumed Tucker to be older - so he demanded to see our driver's licenses. He got mine from my clutch in the car and Tucker pulled his from his back pocket. The officer put them side by side and commented, "You have the same birthday."

"Yes," I said.

He raised a brow. "You're not…"

"No! Oh my god!" My head fell into my knees. One more humiliation to add to the night: he thought my twin brother was forcing himself onto me.

"Moynes," he said, reading my license. "Are you Hal Moynes daughter?"

I nodded.

"We play golf together," he explained. "What's he going to think about what's happening here?"

I lifted my head. "He's not going to have a whole lot of questions."

The officer frowned.

I said, "I'm often hysterical and improperly clothed."

Tucker made a sound that could have been a laugh.

"And you ," the officer directed to him. "I know you. You're Christian Harrison's kid. You pitched a great game last weekend."

"Yes, sir."

"You don't think something like this is going to affect your future?"

I insisted, "He didn't do anything to me, I swear."

Tucker and I met eyes.

"He would never hurt me." I felt my lip quivering. I knew he wouldn't hurt me intentionally, but he had, whether or not he realized it. I clarified, "He would never put his hands on me. Ever ."

The police officer would not let us go. He made us call our parents and refused to allow Tucker anywhere near me while we waited for them.

Tucker left in Christian's car, my dad drove the BMW, and I hopped in my mom's van. I explained to them, as best as possible, what had happened. I left out the part about Tucker using me for a date. I made it seem like some girls poured soda on me because they were jealous, nothing more. They were not surprised that I stripped off my dress in a panic. They never entertained the idea of me and Tucker having sex in the car. I called Lori that night to explain.

Tucker called me, too. He texted me over and over, all night and into Sunday. He showed up at the house and I refused to see him. I was afraid my dad would let him into my room without permission, so I shut myself in my closet.

At school on Monday, he was waiting in my parking spot. Beside my window, he said, "You can't avoid me forever."

I got out of the car to the sound of him apologizing. I leaned against my door, staring at the ground.

He said, "I didn't take you to prom just because I didn't have a date. I broke up with Angel because I wanted to -"

I stopped listening almost immediately. I'd spent all night thinking of how I could show my face at school again. At the end of the day, Tucker and I would go back to being friends or friends of friends, so my first priority was the gossiping voices and judgmental looks. I hadn't done anything wrong going to prom with Tucker. He did something wrong. I didn't need to cower. I didn't need to act upset. If I was unbothered by it all, then it would blow over quickly.

If Tucker was the prize, then I had won him. I came out of this humiliation with the victory. I just needed to present an unaffected front.

He was mid-sentence when I grabbed his neck and pulled him to me. I opened my mouth and sank my lips to his. He made a sound, grabbed me and pushed me up against my car.

There were whistles. Cheers. Honks.

We were in the school parking lot, but Tucker still put his hands all over me, conquering my mouth. I almost forgot why I was doing this. I whimpered, wishing Saturday night had gone differently.

The bell rang and I pushed him off of me. He stared, confused. His lips were wet and swollen, his hair disheveled.

"Now you know what it feels like to be used ," I snapped. I lifted my chin to his and said, "That's never happening again."