Lana's Ex Prom Date Part 13

But that's nothing compared to how out of place Toby looks in his handsome tuxedo as he walks up the broken sidewalk to my porch. I'm standing here in my dress, feeling a little awkward, but mostly excited. Toby and I have worked things out and I believe him, which is the most important part. I guess I always knew it was a little weird for a guy like Toby to suddenly like me, but at least we can be friends now that I know the truth. Mom takes photos of us with her cell phone. Instead of taking them inside the house, she has us stand in front of the limo so we have a nice background.

Toby and I laugh while Mom takes at least a dozen photos of us in the exact same position. I glance over at Ashlyn and Bennet's house, but I don't see them and I'm grateful for it. They're meeting us at the prom later on, so hopefully they're not sneakily watching us through the window. That would be embarra.s.sing.

Mom kisses the side of my head. "I have to get back to work, but you two have fun, okay?"

"Will do," I say.

"Thanks for letting me take your daughter to prom," Toby says. Mom winks at him.

The limo smells like a brand new car, and the leather scent of the seats is intoxicating. Everything is clean and new and nice. We hang out in the backseat while our driver takes us across town to the nicer part where all the houses are huge and have a ton of land surrounding them.

Toby and I have fun examining the interior of the limo; the wine gla.s.ses and sparkling cider in a mini cooler, the radio and TV screen that hangs from the ceiling. But when we turn into a gated community, Toby's demeanor s.h.i.+fts.

"You okay?" I ask, staring at the seriousness behind his eyes. His hair, normally s.h.a.ggy and free, has been slicked back like Loki from the Avengers movie. It's a good look on him.

He looks over at me as if he'd forgotten I was here. "Yeah," he says, exhaling. "We're about to see my parents."

"It'll be fine," I say, offering him a rea.s.suring smile.

His shoulders straighten as the limo rolls to a stop. "I hope so."

A man opens the front door just as Toby is reaching for the handle. Toby's dad is a tall, stout man, with thick black hair and a stern expression that seems to be imprinted in his facial wrinkles.

"h.e.l.lo there," he says, extending a hand to me. "I'm Mr. Fitzgerald."

I know better than to offer a man like this a weak handshake, so I do my best to be all strong and mighty when my hand touches his. "Lana Clarke," I say. He nods curtly.

"Come in for photos," he says, stepping back and welcoming us into his home.

Toby takes my hand, his palm a bit clammy against mine. I've promised to be his pretend girlfriend for the evening, so I smile up at him as if I'm enamored with his charm, and I hold his hand tightly while he leads me through a marbled foyer and into their living room. The ceilings are scary high, with chandeliers in almost every room. A thin woman with wiry blonde hair enters the room. She's wearing a black dress and I get the feeling she's like one of those fancy women on TV shows who dresses nice every day of her life.

"h.e.l.lo," she says, her voice faint. She doesn't shake my hand, but she smiles sweetly and I smile back.

"Hi, Mrs. Fitzgerald. It's nice to meet you."

"You too, sweetheart. I'm so glad Toby has brought you over to meet us."

Beside me, Toby stands rigid, his eyes on me, his hand shaking in mine. I can't believe he's so terrified of his family. It makes my heart hurt for him. At least we're almost out of high school. Just a couple more months and Toby can go off to college and stop dealing with them.

Toby's mom is holding a camera, one of the big kinds that professional photographers use. "Okay, now how do I turn this on?" she says, turning it toward Toby.

He reaches for it, but then his dad steps forward. "Let me see it. You'll screw up the pictures, Linda."

He yanks the camera from his wife and presses a b.u.t.ton to turn it on. The camera's lens slides out and a little light blinks from the top of it.

"Pose," Mr. Fitzgerald says. His voice is so booming and demanding that I kind of want to run away. Instead, I stay strong for Toby and I wrap my arms around him, leaning my head on his chest just like how happy couples pose all the time. It's romantic and sweet, and Toby's dad can't possibly think we're faking it.

Toby's hand is warm on my back. His dad snaps one photo and doesn't bother to look at it.

"Have a good time," he says, turning off the camera. Then he turns and leaves the room.

Toby's mom rushes forward, her entire personality seeming to switch on the moment her husband leaves. "Honey, you look so handsome," she says, grabbing Toby's arm. She smiles adoringly at him.

"Thanks, Mom." He smiles back at her, and I can tell it's not his mother who makes his life h.e.l.l.

"You two have a good time," she says, turning to me. "Your dress is so beautiful, Lana. You both look very nice."

"Thanks." I can feel the blood pool in my cheeks, but I'm hoping Mom's makeup magic prevents it from showing.

Mrs. Fitzgerald leans forward and whispers, "Sorry about your father." She rolls her eyes. "You know how he is."

Toby nods. "It's fine. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," she says. She winks at us and then walks us to the door.

"That wasn't so bad," I say after we're safely back in the limo.

Toby laughs. "You're a terrible liar. But thank you."

We go to Campioni's for dinner. It's the most romantic restaurant around, an Italian place known for their homemade pasta. It's also a popular prom spot, because the moment we walk in, I notice that every table is filled with sparkly dresses and crisp black tuxedos.

"Reservation for Fitzgerald," Toby tells the hostess. She leads the way to our table, and I look over at him.

"Reservation?"

He grins. "Only the best for my fake girlfriend."

I'm already holding onto his elbow, but I lean against him for a second. "I could get used to this fake girlfriend stuff."

"I really appreciate this, Lana." We settle into our booth, a small secluded table at the back of the restaurant. Toby laces his fingers together on top of the table. "I feel a lot better now that I came clean with you."

"Me too," I say, and I'm not even embarra.s.sed by it. "I mean, I did like you, but I could always tell there was something off. Like... it didn't feel real between us."

He nods. "I should have been honest from the beginning. I'm really sorry, but I'm glad you chose to continue being my friend."

"Well, you're a cool guy," I say.

He lifts an eyebrow. "Or maybe you just feel sorry for me."

I give him an evil grin. "Maybe I do."

We order food and it's the most amazing thing I've ever had. I know this place is expensive, but my new goal in life is to save up enough money to take my mom here for her birthday. She'd love the pasta and the garlic bread. She'd love all of it because it's amazing. As an added bonus, the back of the menu tells the story of the married couple who started this restaurant twenty years ago. Mom is a big fan of supporting family businesses over big chain stores. We're definitely coming here for her birthday.

"When are your friends meeting us?" Toby asks after we've decided we're too full for dessert.

"Probably around eight," I say. I go to look for my phone, but realize I left it in the limo. "What time is it now?"

Toby checks his watch. "Seven-thirty."

"Cool," I say with a nod.

"Tell me about Ashlyn and Bennet," Toby says.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugs. "You all seem to be really close."

"We are."

"So what's that like?" He reaches for another piece of garlic bread from the bowl in the middle of our table. "I've never been too close with any of my friends. Sitting with you guys at lunch made me realize how much I've missed out on by having friends who suck."

I chuckle. "Oh, it's great. We all grew up together as neighbors, so I guess we've always been friends." I explain our situation to him, tell him about the Single Ladies thing, and share a few of my favorite memories of growing up with my two best friends. Toby listens intently, smiling at the parts that make me smile.

"That's really nice," he says after a while. "Did you and Bennet ever, you know, date?"

"What?" I laugh. "No." For some reason, the moment I deny it, I get a nervous rush of b.u.t.terflies to my stomach.

"Hmm," Toby says, his thoughts far away.

"Why are saying hmm?"

He shrugs. "Well, I don't know. It's nothing. But it's kind of obvious that Bennet is in love with you."

"No way," I say, shaking my head.

He gives me this look, his eyes piercing into me with a truth I've never seen before. "Think about it, Lana. It's obvious."

"Hmm," I say. My mind rushes back through years of memories, thinking about everything Bennet and I ever did together. The way he acts, and the stuff he does for me when he doesn't have to. That birthday present that took him six months to pay for.

"I guess I've never thought of that," I admit. There's a lump in my throat and suddenly I realize how much I want Toby's words to be true.

"I guess I never thought of that," I say, my heart pounding with the possibility of something great. When it comes to guys who would be perfect for me, I can't see anyone else fitting that description better than Bennet.

Toby shrugs. "Maybe you should think about it."

Chapter 26.

The Hockley convention center seems like a normal building on the outside. The parking lot is filled with cars and we're not the only limo here. Our driver pulls up to the very front and then he gets out and opens our door for us. I'm suddenly very nervous as Toby steps out and then reaches his hand down for mine. Other seniors and their dates are standing around, taking photos and meeting up with their friends.

Even though Toby and I are friends now, being around him in public still makes me feel weird. Like at any given time someone might point at us and laugh and tell the whole world that I'm not cool enough to hang out with a guy like Toby.

Luckily, that doesn't happen. I hold Toby's hand as we walk up to the entrance of the convention center. There are teachers at the door, dressed in formal wear. Mrs. Morales takes our tickets and lets us inside. It's incredibly weird seeing our teachers dressed up for the night.

I hold on tightly to Toby's hand as we enter. The building is one large area with dark carpeting and columns that have been wrapped in white tulle and clear lights. There's a buffet of snacks and drinks along the right wall and in the middle of the room is the dance floor. It's wooden and raised a bit from the rest of the floor. A dis...o...b..ll spins, lighting up the room in sparkles.

Fancy circle tables and chairs are situated around the dance floor. They're decorated with beautiful purple tablecloths and sparkly centerpieces. Clear lights are everywhere; on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, and even inside tinsel gla.s.s vases on the tables. It's all so beautiful and I'm impressed that our small school managed to pull off something so lovely.

"Should we get a drink first?" Toby says as we meander through groups of people.

The dancefloor is a little barren, with maybe only a dozen people dancing to the song that's playing over the loud speakers. I remember hearing something about the StuCo trying to hire a live band for the event, but it was too expensive so they opted for a DJ. He's dressed in a dark blue tux, his dreadlocks spilling over his shoulders while he works the music from a corner of the room. A few girls in skimpy prom dresses are talking with him even though he's at least thirty years old, if not older. I can't blame them though-he's pretty hot.

"Drinks are good," I say with a smile. I'm still nervous as h.e.l.l being here, but I'm trying to have fun.

There are a ton of reasons for me to run to the bathroom and throw up right now: My dress is old and outdated.

I'm not even with a real date.

My date is so much more popular than I am.

I'm thinking about Bennet and that's making me crazy.

I might throw up.

Oh c.r.a.p, it might really happen.

I let Toby lead me through people until we get to the drink table. There's sodas and punch and a fake bartender guy who is serving up non-alcoholic versions of popular drinks.

"What would you like?" Toby asks.

I shrug. "Whatever you're having."

He orders us two drinks that come in plastic cups with a cherry and a slice of pineapple on the rim. I feel fancy drinking it even if there is no alcohol. And honestly, I really don't need anything that'll alter my mental state right now. I'm nervous enough as it is.

"To-by!" someone calls out, their deep voice booming over the music. We turn around and see three guys walking over to us. Bryson, Tyler, and Nick. I don't know them personally, but everyone knows their names. They're high school royalty just like Toby. Girls have been doodling these guys' names in their notebooks since about the third grade.

"What's up, man?" Toby says, fist b.u.mping Tyler, who looks like he might possibly be drunk right now.

They chat for a minute, and none of the guys look my way, not that I'd expected them to. I'm invisible in the whole scale of teenage stuff at West Canyon High School, but I'm fine with that. Being popular seems exhausting. I can tell that Toby is annoyed with their small talk, and he keeps giving me these little helpless looks to apologize while the guys talk his ear off.

Finally, their dates all come back from the bathroom at the same time. I stand straight, and I hold onto Toby's hand, and I pretend I'm not as bothered as I am when they walk up, their hair perfect, their bodies slim and beautiful, their dresses to die for.

"Hey," one of the girls says to me. It's short and simple and she quickly turns her attention to Tyler, but I appreciate it anyhow.

"Guys, I think we're gonna dance," Toby says after a few minutes of small talk. "We'll catch up with you later."

"Your friends are all very pretty," I say as Toby leads me onto the dance floor. "Even the guys."

He laughs, and he twirls me in front of him, his hand taking my waist and the other one sliding down my arm until it's wrapped around me. He must have had dance lessons at some point in his life because he's very confident on the dance floor. "Their parents are all friends with my parents. It's like we've been destined to be friends since the day we were born."