Chapter 24

I had chosen my food and was trying to decide which of the two candidate tables to sit at when a huge, meaty paw grabbed my upper arm and steered me in a direction I hadn’t intended to take. I wasn’t too worried: all I had to do was scream like a girl and one of the teachers on duty would surely intervene. But I was rather curious to find out Jaymon Solassie’s intentions.

The direction he steered me was like a voyage upwards through the school’s social strata, ending up firmly in nosebleed territory. There were two occupants of the table that proved to be our final destination: Cayenne Proctor and Joanna Kafkasian. Jaymon ‘encouraged’ me to take a seat opposite the two girls then sat down next to me.

If someone were to draw up a state rich list, the Kafkasians would at least be in the top three. But their riches had been hard-earned and the family hadn’t yet given up their work ethic, so they didn’t flaunt their wealth unnecessarily. Their son, Marcus is a year older than me, the school football team’s starting quarterback and star player. His girlfriend, Cayenne Proctor, is the same age as me and blessed with hair the colour of ripe corn, blue eyes and a killer figure, highly toned by her cheerleading activities.

The Kafkasians’ daughter, Joanna, is also my age, with a slimmer, smaller-breasted figure than Cayenne’s, chestnut hair and soft hazel eyes, looking very much like I’d expect Terri to look in a couple of years time. She is also a footballer, the round ball version, and the midfield playmaker of the school team. And allegedly Marcus won’t let her date any boy who doesn’t meet his approval, which means she doesn’t date.

“Hello Kevin,” said Cayenne in a matter-of-fact voice. “Thank you for joining us.”

Since I hadn’t really had much choice in the matter, I just nodded.

“I’ve heard nice things about you,” she continued. “You scrub up nicely and you know how to treat girls properly. And I hear you don’t have a prom date.”

My gut instinct was giving me mixed feelings. She was undoubtedly about to pair me off with one of the cheerleaders who were less fortunate in the looks department but tolerated for their strength and athleticism, but at least she’d be a girl and at least I’d have a date for the prom. But surely Cayenne thought I was gay, didn’t she? “You heard right, I don’t have a prom date,” I confirmed.

“I have a business proposition for you,” said Cayenne. “Marcus was going to be my prom date but he was on the reserve list for a state football camp this weekend. Someone dropped out and he was offered their place. Marcus was going to decline so as not to ruin the prom for me, but his parents and I persuaded him to go.”

Unusually our school didn’t have a prom for its final-year students, although they could attend our year’s prom as a guest if invited by someone eligible. The precise reason is lost in the mists of time: it might be because demob-happy students had a tendency to cause too much damage, or because the school thought final-year students consumed their share of the meagre budget with their graduation ceremony, or because leaving final-year students to arrange their own celebration was a suitable initiative test in preparation for their coming lives in the real world.

“Turning down the football camp would have created a black mark against his long-term prospects in the game,” continued Cayenne, “whereas if he goes and does well, it would go a long way to winning a college football scholarship. Financially he doesn’t need one, but it would generate a lot more respect in the game if he earned one.”

I nodded. I could see the logic in what she was saying.

“I’m a shoo-in for Prom Queen and I don’t want to miss the experience,” said Cayenne. “All I have to do is turn up with a nicely turned-out partner who is prepared to hold me and sway in time to the music for a couple of dances until the voting takes place. Prom King is moot, since Marcus wouldn’t have been eligible anyway. I’ve talked it over with Marcus and he approved of you as a safe choice of stand-in, especially since you’re gay...”

Jaymon smiled predatorially at the word ‘gay’.

“ ... please will you be my escort to the prom?” Cayenne asked.

The girl virtually every male student with a pulse would give their right arm to go to prom with was asking ME! I was so stunned I couldn’t speak.

“It won’t even cost you anything apart from your prom ticket,” Cayenne added, as though she thought my silence suggested I was thinking of turning her down. “The Mountview Deluxe Hotel in the centre of town is part of a chain that is trying to cash in on the prom phenomenon by setting up a range of packages for prom attendees. Marcus got a discount on their top-of-the-range prom package for helping to test it, and that includes tuxedo hire and limousine rental. All you’d have to do is visit the tuxedo hire store for a fitting. The package also includes an all-expenses-paid hotel stay for the night, but obviously we wouldn’t be using that part.”

Okay, I would be being used, but I’d get to go to the prom with a very attractive girl and I might even get to hang out with Joanna, my secret crush. Just like at lunch the previous day, I couldn’t keep my mouth closed. “I want a dance with Joanna as well,” I said.

Joanna blushed attractively. Jaymon growled menacingly. Cayenne gave me a frosty stare. “I’m not Jo’s pimp,” she said. “Your duty is to make me look good until I’m elected Prom Queen. What you do after that is no concern of mine.”

I put a positive spin on Cayenne’s words. She hadn’t actually said ‘no’; it would be up to me to ask Joanna after the Prom King and Queen presentations. “Okay, I’ll do it,” I decided.

Cayenne stretched her hand across the table. I took it - I was holding the hand of a goddess - and we shook. Sadly no sparks flew; in fact it most reminded me of holding my mum’s hand.

“Deal?” she asked.

“Deal,” I confirmed.

“Can you go for a tuxedo fitting after school?” Cayenne asked. “I’ll need to go with you because I’ve got the receipt for the prom package.”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Meet me in the car park after lessons. I’ll drive us there.”

“Okay.”

As I tucked into my neglected meal, the girls chatted. By the time I’d finished eating, I couldn’t resist asking the question that had been bugging me. “Joanna, who are you going to the prom with?”

Looking Joanna in the eye I got the strange impression of sadness, but my question elicited a cute little lopsided smile.

“Jaymon’s taking me.”

Jaymon grinned.

I realised he wasn’t just Joanna’s prom date, he was also her jailer, appointed by Marcus to keep boys away in his absence. It looked as though I wouldn’t be getting a dance with Joanna after all.