he just let Mr. Pearson pose us.
It was so tempting to let her stand there.
"Okay," said Mr. Pearson. He took a few steps and turned around, training his camera on us.
"One, two--"
"Wait!" I shouted.
Mr. Pearson moved the camera away from his face. "What's the matter?" he asked.
"I just need to ... hang on a second." I stepped from under my dad's arm and went over to Mara.
"Come be in the picture," I said.
"It's fine, Lucy," she said. "Why don't you just get a picture of you and your dad. I really don't mind."
She's telling you it's okay. Just take the picture without her.
I shook my head. "No, really," I said. "I'd like one of all of us." And as soon as I'd said it, I realized it wasn't even a total lie.
She and I looked at each other for a minute, and then she smiled at me. I smiled back. "Okay,
then," she said.
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She followed me over to where my dad was waiting, and we let Mr. Pearson arrange us so that
my dad was on one side of me and Mara was on the other. Just as Mr. Pearson was about to snap
the picture, there was a scream. I looked over in the direction it came from to see Emma and
Amy racing across the lawn to where we were standing. "Wait!" shouted Emma.
"We want to be in the picture," said Amy. They slid in on either side of me and put their arms
around my waist.
"We did her hair," Emma said to Mrs. Pearson, who was standing next to her husband.
"Well, it's lovely," she said absently.
"I did her hair," said Amy. "You did her makeup."
"That is such a lie," said Emma. "I totally did her hair!"
"Oh my god, what are you talking about?" Amy stamped her foot. "You didn't even touch her hair."
"Girls, girls," said my dad. He put a hand on each of their shoulders and nudged them to face Mr.
Pearson.
"Did so," muttered Emma.
"Did not," answered Amy.
"Let's focus here," said my dad, and I felt Emma's and Amy's arms tighten around my waist as I
smiled and Mara said, "Cheese."
"One, two, three," said Mr. Pearson. And for a second after the shutter clicked we all stayed just where we were. A family.
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Chapter Twenty-nine
"Whoa, dude," said Connor, as we stepped into the lobby of the Plaza. He shaded his eyes with
his hand. "That's bright."
While we'd all sipped genteely at our flutes during the champagne toast at Madison's, like
consuming alcohol was no big deal, as soon as we got in the limo everyone started chugging
from flasks that Connor, Dave, and Matt had brought. Unfortunately one sip of whatever they
were drinking was all I could handle. It burned my throat and I gasped.
"What is that?" I asked.
"J.D., baby," he said, tapping the flask against his chest and belching. "Your good ole friend Jack Daniel's."
We'd been warned that once we arrived at the prom, we couldn't leave, so everyone wanted to
drink as much as possible on the thirty-minute drive to Manhattan.
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Kathryn, who apparently was a good friend of Jack Daniel's, sat on Connor's left, while I sat
squeezed between him and the door of the limo. The closer we got to Manhattan, the further
Kathryn's dress edged up her leg and the less aware of my presence Connor seemed to be.
I don't know what I'd expected, but prom wasn't exactly turning out to be the most magical night
of my life. If anything, it seemed to be like a lot of other nights. As soon as we arrived at the
hotel, all the girls went into the bathroom and all the guys went into the Palm Room. It was
almost as if we'd come together and they'd come together. Standing in the bathroom with
Madison and Jessica, I had the strangest feeling that we weren't even at the prom; we were just in
the bathroom at Piazzolla's. When we walked out, we'd be in the familiar linoleum and wood
dining room, and there'd be Dave and Connor and Matt sitting at a table littered with pizza crust
and crumpled paper napkins.
The table didn't have any pizza crust on it, but by the time we got there, the guys had thrown
their dinner rolls at one another. Madison went ballistic, and Matt looked sheepish. We sat down,
and without thinking, I took my napkin off my plate and lay it on my lap. Jessica hit Dave on the
shoulder and gestured for him to put his napkin on his lap. Then we all just sat there, not saying
anything.
Across the room I saw Jane come through the doorway. Her dress was bright yellow, long and
tight, with a
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plunging neckline, and she looked gorgeous. She paused to survey her domain as Sam walked in
behind her. Even though he was backlit by the bright light of the hallway, I knew it was him
because his hair was standing almost straight up, like he'd been pulling on it nonstop for hours.
When the door shut behind him, I saw he was wearing red Converse sneakers with his tuxedo,
and I couldn't help laughing to myself, as if Sam had just told me a great joke. I began to stand
up, planning to walk over and tell him I thought the sneakers were a good call, but just as I did,
he put his hand on the small of Jane's back to lead her to their table.
And all of a sudden, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. Because seeing Sam guide Jane across
the room, I knew. I knew. I knew why, that day in the studio, he was the person I'd imagined
slow dancing with. I knew why I'd missed him when he wasn't in class this week.
Most of all, I knew why tonight felt like the least magical night of my life.
I stayed where I was, half standing, half sitting, frozen for the long minutes it took Sam and Jane
to find their table. Then I forced myself to stop watching them, dropped to my seat, and took a
deep breath, unable to get out from under the hot wave of sadness that had washed over me.
"They really look great together, don't they?"
"I know. I love her dress."
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"It's sooo sexy."
Like everyone else, I had my eyes on the dance floor, where the prom king and queen were
dancing. Their crowns caught the reflected rays of the twirling disco ball and sent diamonds of
light around the room. Their arms were around one another, and I was trying to think if I'd ever
heard of a culture where brothers and sisters danced as closely as Kathryn and Connor were
dancing. Every few seconds someone whistled or yelled, "Go for it!" or just started clapping.
Kathryn was clearly relishing the attention. She kept smiling and waving, and when her crown
nearly slipped off, she caught it and dropped it back onto her head in a single graceful gesture
without missing a step.
I could feel Madison and Jessica's concerned stares even without looking at them. From the
second the prom committee chair had announced the names of the prom king and queen, they
hadn't left my side, telling me how crazy the committee was, how they'd just wanted seniors to
win, how Connor was totally in love with me.
"Connor's not even having a good time," Jessica said. She had her arm around me, and she
squeezed my shoulder.
"I think they look really awkward together," said Madison. "She's way too short for him."
"Excuse me," I said. "I'm going to go to the bathroom."