Chapter 42

“They were like lightning and rain, existing together but clashing at their very natures.”
—T.S. Pettibone, Hatred Day

“UH ... DESI?” Kent stammered on Thursday at lunch. “Say, I know this is like way late notice and all, but ... I never got around to asking anyone to prom this weekend. Would you like to go?” My hackles raised. What did he think he was doing, asking my girlfriend on a date? Beca on one side of me and Joan on the other both grabbed my leg to keep me from jumping up.

“Prom? You can go to prom?”

“Uh ... Yeah. I’m a junior, you know?”

“I guess I was supposed to know that. Why aren’t you asking Brittany?”

“Are you kidding?” Brittany laughed. “What mother would allow her fourteen-year-old daughter to go to prom with a seventeen-year-old lech? Besides, Kent isn’t my boyfriend or anything. We’re just friends.”

“Fair enough,” Desi said. “Why me? You could have asked Rachel or Rebeca.”

“Oh, well ... um ... You see, I figured it was a longshot, but you have clothes.”

“We all wear clothes. Most of the time.”

“I mean, you’ve got interesting cosplay clothes that would pass for a formal and wouldn’t have to run out to buy anything. And I have a...” Kent paused a blushed crimson. “I sort of have a Hyakuya uniform I wore to Comic Con last year.”

“Hyakuya? As in Seraph of the End?” Desi exclaimed, hopping up and down. She settled quickly. “Ah ... I’ll have to ask permission, of course. And there is something you need to understand up front and I won’t go if I don’t trust you to abide by the rules. Jacob is my boyfriend,” she stated adamantly. “And I’ve contracted with him to give him my virginity when I turn sixteen. I consider it a sacred pledge and won’t be messing around in typical post-prom debauchery. Do you agree to abide by that rule?”

“Ye-yeah. I’m sorry, I thought Jacob was with Joan ... um ... or Rachel. I didn’t...”

“We don’t advertise broadly, but we five are in it together and plan to stay that way,” Desi said firmly. “Now, if you agree to the rules, I’ll ask permission.”

“Yes. I agree. I just thought it would be fun to go to the prom in something outrageous instead of all stuck up and formal.” I glanced at Joan and she smirked at me.

“Okay then. Jacob? May I go to prom with Kent?” We all gasped. When she said ‘ask permission’ we all thought she meant from her parents. She was asking me?

“Desi, I’m not...” she scowled at me. She obviously wanted support and I wasn’t giving it the way she wanted it. “You’re my girlfriend,” I said firmly. “Your virginity belongs to me. As long as you agree to protect it and as long as Kent agrees, I won’t stop you from going out to have fun. Agreed?”

“I agree, boyfriend,” Desi said. She hopped up and ran around the table bending over to give me a very hot sloppy kiss. If what I saw was any indication, when she bent over most of the people at the table could see down her cleavage to her navel. She ran back to her seat as my girlfriends started laughing. “We’ll need to make plans and you need to meet my parents,” she said to Kent. “Let me text you my address and you can come by this evening.”

I think Kent was a little lost and thinking he might have stepped into deeper water than he planned.

Prom. I think it’s become a way to get parents and teens to spend as much for a night of pretension as for a wedding. Our limo wasn’t the only one, by a long shot. In fact, it wasn’t the longest one, either. I couldn’t believe they make a Hummer limo. We watched five couples emerge from it and the driver let a line of us peek inside to see the luxurious seating and bar. He wasn’t moving because the couples who went to the prom left about an hour later and were spending the rest of the night driving around in the limo. A private party, I guess.

Our own limo was big enough that Em easily consented to picking up Kent and Desi as well as Brian and Joan. We worked out the change in logistics so the Limo picked up Brian and Kent first and then came to our house. By that time, Mom and Dad had already taken a memory card full of pictures of Em and me and then had to take another of Em and Brian. Then they left to go to Joan’s so they’d be there before we got there. We picked up Desi next and Em started to regret that we’d agreed to pick up the pair. Desi’s skirt was so full that she took up most of one seat in the limo by herself. We told Kent he had to squeeze in next to her, even if his splashy uniform got wrinkled. At Joan’s house, the other four stayed in the limo while I went in to pick up my date. Beca and Rachel had been with Joan to help get her ready and were going out together when we left. They had to run outside to look at Desi and Kent while Joan’s mother and my parents took another card full of commemorative photos.

Eventually, though, we all got to the prom, sending the limo back to pick up Rachel and Beca to take them to dinner. I’d been running—or jogging, I guess, over half an hour a day and my legs were feeling solid under me. It was a good thing because Joan and I seldom left the dancefloor. Our lessons for the past four weekends had paid off and we could dance to just about anything the DJ threw at us. Prom music tended to be a lot more slow music than fast and didn’t have the rave aura that the Valentine Dance had. Of course, I had a couple of dances with Em and with Desi as the other guys entertained the other girls. But mostly, it was Joan and me.

“I could dance with you all night,” I whispered in her ear.

“I hope so,” she whispered back and offered her lips for my kiss.

We did the obligatory things like getting our official prom pictures taken. I wasn’t sure why since I was sure our parents had taken a few hundred. But this one was...

V1 went to prom back in 1956. It was held in the gymnasium and the junior class had spent every afternoon for the week before prom decorating. Decorations were mostly crepe streamers, but they were hung from all the way up in the rafters. There were three mirror balls that just swung and spun slightly in the breeze. They were not motor driven. Tables surrounded the open space in the center, all of which was covered in canvas to protect the gym floor. Banquet tables that seated eight or ten had white paper tablecloths. Place settings included a napkin, plastic fork, and plastic cup for punch. A white arch decorated with plastic flowers was set in front of a blue backdrop and that was where prom pictures had been taken ever since the war. In my white dinner jacket, my picture made it look like my neck belonged on a giraffe, only outdone by my date’s outlandish hairdo. I’m sorry to say that I don’t even remember her name.

Things changed. Nearly a thousand people attended this prom. It was held at the convention center and was not decorated by teens. They must have spent $5,000 on the decorations and I thought that the school musical could have used some scenery like this. The theme was Kismet. The photo area was twenty feet across and offered a variety of niches in which to pose your photo. One of the most popular was the reflecting pool. The setting included lots of tile—fake—a billion little lights, a romantic table setting, a secret garden, and even an area with a Turkish carpet and a bunch of cushions surrounded by tented curtains.

Dinner included various kinds of hummus with pita and vegetables to dip, shawarma, yogurts, and dipped figs or pastries. It was no wonder the tickets for the event were fifty dollars apiece. Not a couple. Each.

And no one spiked the punch.

At midnight, the official prom ended and the event center was empty by twelve-thirty. I heard about a number of after-prom parties that were being held at various locations, but none of us was interested. We found our limo and made the rounds delivering people to their homes. First, Desi. Kent walked her to her door and I had to admit that he cut a dashing figure in the rather unconventional uniform. It went well with Desi’s dress. Em and Joan kept my attention focused inside the limo, so I didn’t watch to see if Kent got a kiss goodnight or maybe a squeeze of Desi’s nicely displayed melons. We took him home next.

Then, to keep the pretense that the men were taking their dates home, we got to our house and Brian walked Em to the door. I know that she planned to give him a nice kiss but this was the first time Joan and I had been truly alone all evening and we didn’t waste any time getting our faces together. We broke apart only when we heard the driver open the door for Brian to get back into the limo. He said goodnight to us at his house and thanked me for helping make this night possible.

“Could you just drive us around for half an hour before you take us to the next stop?” I asked.

“The car’s yours for three more hours. I can drive all night if you want.” I looked at Joan, whose eyes went wide open.

“I’ll let you know,” I said. As soon as the car was in motion, so were we. Joan and I had gotten pretty good at figuring out how the pieces fit together when we kissed over the past few weeks. We both had active hands going as well. It didn’t take long to have that blue strapless top pushed down below her boobs and my fingers working their way up under her skirt while I sucked on her nipples. Her hand was busy inside my pants, stroking my wood. I felt her pussy clench around my fingers as she came and then her face was in my lap as she sucked me earnestly. I groaned as I emptied myself into her throat.