Page 30 of Sam & Justin

I watched Sam drive out of the parking lot before turning around and walking back into the school. We had three hours to set up the prom and get ourselves ready. I already had everything I needed, hung in a garment bag at my house. I knew I’d need another shower because the day had been warm and I was sweaty. I needed prom to be perfect. Not just for me, but for everyone in our class.

And for Sam.

I was pretty sure he’d not gone to our senior prom the first time around. This was the perfect do-over for him. It was also the right cap to put on top of our weekend. We were going to dance and create memories. Maybe it would be something we could talk about when he was back in King’s Bay. Or maybe, worst case scenario, it would be something for me to think back to inthe middle of the night, weeks after the reunion, when I hadn’t heard from him.

I was in my head when I reached the big gym, and I was happy to find it empty. Vanessa and her army of student volunteers were still cleaning up the front of the school from the pictures. I was sure she’d sent a second contingent of student volunteers to clean up from lunch, if they hadn’t already done it while everyone was passing around their yearbooks and taking our class picture. Vanessa may not have had my organizational skills, but she had an authoritative voice. I wouldn’t be surprised if she could lead a small army into doing whatever she wanted, though she also gave the impression that she’d be on the front line with them.

The impression probably had to do with her muscles more than anything.

The quiet of the gym was a welcome reprieve after the noise of the weekend. It was one of the first times I’d been completely alone since registration on Friday. More like since I’d woken up on Friday. Twenty-four hours might not have seemed like a long time to most people, but I valued my alone time. I valued the peace and quiet of a night home with a bottle of beer, binge watching one of my favorite shows or burying my nose in a book. Even on the nights when I went out with my friends, I always ended up back in the same place.

I let the silence wash over me as I went to the supply closet. I did a quick mental check of everything before I pulled up the to do list on my phone. I’d organized everything already, and while I knew the plans, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it. I had to make sure that everything was done correctly, after all. Istepped into the closet and decided the first thing to do would be to set up the tables for the formal dinner. They were already loaded onto a cart, and I attempted to push it out. I grunted and groaned, but the damn thing wouldn’t move.

“Trouble?” Vanessa asked from the doorway a few minutes later.

I looked up, my face redder than it had been even when Sam made me blush. “It won’t budge.”

Vanessa laughed, the sound filling the small space around me. “Did you unlock the wheels?” Unlock the wheels? I must have looked confused, because Vanessa shook her head and reached down to flick a small silver switch on one of the front wheels. “It locks so it doesn’t roll away or cause an accident. All the carts do.”

“Oh.” I frowned and gave the cart an experimental push. It moved. “I guess I’m an idiot.”

Vanessa stepped out of the way so I could push the tables out. She followed behind me with a cart of chairs. We had two tables positioned when the student volunteers began to file into the room. Setting up the tables and chairs went fast with all those hands. Then, we began pulling out decorations. It took less than an hour for the gym to be transformed into a 1980s wonderland. It was full of neon painted decor, balloons, and even speakers covered with something that looked like giant backlit cassette tapes.

“Okay, I’m seeing the vision,” Vanessa commented as we stood in the middle of the room, left empty to serve as a dance flooronce the party got going, and looked around. “I can’t believe you got this place transformed. You can barely even smell the gym socks.”

“Ness!” I scolded. I did not want to think about gym socks at the prom. I wanted to think about romance and stolen moments with Sam before it all ended. “Can youpleasenot make me think about sweaty gym socks right now? I want to admire our work, not think about someone smelling that!”

“How about instead of thinking about sweaty gym socks and admiring the work, you go home. You could use a shower.”

I lifted my arm to do a quick smell check and wrinkled my nose. She had a very fair point. “Noted. I’ll be back by 5:30.”

“Telling you that we’ve got everything from here would be a waste of my breath, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah. I need to be here to make sure everything goes right. I put way too much work into planning this to leave anything to chance.”

“Because people coming to a school dance requires insane organizational skills…”

“How about you go home and get showered and dressed, too,” I shot back. I did not want to argue with her over this. The sooner I got out of here, the sooner I could get back. Then I could use the dance and the excitement as a distraction. I wouldn’t have to think about the fact that Sam would be gone in the morning. I could just enjoy his company. Worrying could be left for later.

I said goodbye to Vanessa and made my way to my car.

Once I got home, it was a race against the clock. I hopped in the shower and made my way to my bedroom. Hanging in the front of my closet was the suit I’d picked out for the evening. I found it at one of the local thrift stores, and I loved it the day I bought it. It was bright and colorful, a picture-perfect example of 1980s camp. I’d been enamored by it the moment I saw it. I even had my mom tailor it to fit me perfectly.

But the day I bought it, I’d been planning on going to this thing alone. I hadn’t been able to foresee the possibility that I might have someone to go to prom with me. Now that I had a date with Sam, I was second guessing everything. How could I show up in green sequins?

But I didn’t have anything else to wear.

My heart began to race in my chest. This was stupid. Why was I getting so worked up over something like this? It was just a tuxedo. It was just a single night. I was building it up to something more in my head, into something bigger than it actually was. It wasn’t like this night would make or break my future relationship with Sam. He wasn’t going to see me in this tuxedo and decide that every heated moment we’d shared overthe weekend had been a mistake. He wasn’t going to decide that he never wanted to talk to me again because of my clothes.

But what if he did?

I grabbed my phone and hit my sister’s contact before I even realized I was making the choice.

“Help!” I gasped into the phone. Gasped? Oh, I was really panicking.

And my sister could hear it. Unfortunately, it triggered her panic, too. “What happened? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

I forced myself to take a deep breath. The last thing I needed was to freak my sister out. I needed her help with a fashion disaster, and she couldn’t do that if we were having matching panic attacks.