The Prom

Author's Note: This story was created as part of a much larger story about a girl who develops a relationship with her gym teacher in high school. If conventionally unattractive women and large age differences are not your thing, please skip this story. Some background on the main characters:

Ciara Ackerman: She is a beautiful and sweet 18 year old senior with long glossy auburn hair who attends North Haskell High School. She is the student assistant to her gym teacher, Miss Treadway. She plans to stay in Thatcher Blake after graduation and go to college to become a teacher.

Miss Treadway: To a lot of people, Miss Treadway represents a textbook example of the fabled athletic butch woman—a real tomboy. She has this stern, steely guise that is amplified by her dark framed glasses and short cropped hair. Miss Treadway is also quite slender and toned for a woman who might be nearing the wrong side of 50—a similarity she shares with Miss Larsson. She favors the standard golf shirts and pressed shorts or track pants her colleague wears each day to work. Like Miss Larsson, she has a flat chest and she could easily be mistaken from behind for a teenage boy. In other words, Miss Treadway is neither pretty nor feminine.

Miss Larsson: This woman who is as old and tomboyish as Miss Treadway is extremely striking to look at. Decades of vigorous aerobic activity have given her the same athletic trim as Miss Treadway, and it suits her beautifully. She has this distinctive Nordic looking face aged from years of spending time outdoors and yelling at students to run laps. Her light, nearly white blond hair is cropped in a boyish bob that barely covers the bottoms of her ears.

Miss Blount: She is a gym teacher who teaches at Talcott, another high school in Thatcher Blake. You can read more about Miss Blount in the story, Shari Holds a Torch.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 and over...Enjoy!

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I leaned against the wall in the grand hall outside the ballroom of the Faust Hotel doing my best to disguise the fact I'd been crying so much that my makeup had smeared. Before anyone could notice, I dashed into the ladies' room, and did my best to repair the damage which thankfully was minimal. This prom night might have been the most magical night of my life if it hadn't been completely ruined.

I spent the entire day trying to make myself look perfect. Last week, Aunt Francie gave me some money so Amy and I could go to the mall to pick out a dress. We ended up at Wieboldt's where I found this diaphanous pale blue gown after trying on dozens of dresses. I applied minimal makeup; just enough to bring out the color of my eyes and enhance the natural pink fullness of my lips. I piled my thick auburn hair into a somewhat messy bun similar to a picture in this issue of Redbook I found lying on an end table in the living room next to Aunt Francie's cigarettes. I figured Francie wouldn't mind if I borrowed it long enough to copy the style. She never said anything to me about it, so I figured either it was okay or she'd simply forgotten about it.

I wasn't planning on going to the prom with Jason Pope. I wasn't planning on going to the prom at all. Since Jason gave up asking me to go, he ended up asking this girl, Hailey Quigley, who was in one of his other classes instead. But two weeks ago, Hailey got back together with her boyfriend, Craig Molander, so Jason hounded Amy and Jenna to convince me to go with him.

I really don't know why thinking about this is making me so upset anyway. I should have known that Jason had something up his sleeve the whole time! Did I lead Jason on? I wondered. Before the dance, Amy tried to convince Jason that we should join her and Brad at Valhalla for dinner but Jason had other plans. First he ended up taking me to the Armada downtown. The Armada is this super swanky steak and seafood restaurant that sits about a block away from the Valencia Theater. I've never been to the Armada, but I'd heard that it was a really romantic place to eat and the food was supposed to be excellent. The night should have been perfect!

Was it my dress? Was it something I said? I saw that Bobbie Brinkman had been standing near the restrooms earlier saying something to Jason. I wondered what Bobbie said to him. They were both too far away, and she'd kept her hand over her mouth part of the time so I couldn't make out what she was saying.

I swear I almost died when we'd gotten to the restaurant and saw Bobbie seated at the table next to ours. She was wearing this jet black gown with dainty little straps that made her look like an adolescent beanpole. Her date, Mark Perone, sat there looking like he'd rather be somewhere else. Mark is in the future leaders' class that Coach Stalcup used to teach until he'd gotten fired a few weeks ago for reasons nobody knew. I wondered if Mark had been asked to take Bobbie to the prom as a favor, or if he really asked her to go on his own.

Everything seemed to be going so well in spite of Bobbie and Mark sitting near us. But Jason completely stunned me when he suddenly dumped me on the car ride to the dance. All of those times when he told me how much he liked me, and all of those visits he paid me during PE class were thrown away all because I told him that there was no way I was having sex with him that night. Actually, I didn't want to have sex with him at all!

Maybe I should have stayed home. Going to the prom with Jason was such a huge mistake especially since my first date with him was such a colossal disaster. A shudder of disgust comes over me whenever I see a can or bottle of Orange Crush. And I still haven't gotten over the fact that he tried to force me to jerk him off in his dad's car after we left the movie theater.

I should have figured that whatever Bobbie was saying to Jason at the restaurant was something about me. We were driving along in his dad's Shelby Mustang when Jason pulled the car into the nearly empty parking lot of the A&P near the Blake Plaza Shopping Center. Before I could ask him what was going on with him, he demanded to know if I was "some kind of Jesus freak or something."

"No!" I said emphatically. "What the hell even gave you that idea?"

"Then how come you're wearing that?"

Jason was looking in the general direction of my chest when it dawned on me. Earlier in the day when I put on my dress to show Aunt Francie, she suggested that I wear a little jewelry. Something simple; delicate and feminine to show off my neck and collarbone. She started to go in her room to find something for me to borrow, but then I remembered the delicate gold necklace I'd been keeping in my jewelry box. A tiny gold cross adorned the necklace.

"Hey—Bobbie said something about..."

I tuned Jason out as I felt a momentary twinge of fright. Bobbie probably spotted the necklace when we were in the restaurant and told him...what? That I said the necklace was a present from Aunt Francie? I bit my bottom lip, and my cheeks felt like they were on fire. I knew Bobbie knew I was full of shit. For the last couple of years, she has been accusing me of having a crush on my PE teacher, Miss Treadway. When a few of us found out that Miss Treadway is actually Bobbie's aunt, we were floored—especially since a lot of us accused Bobbie of being the one with the crush! I was starting to feel so anxious the more I ruminated over what Bobbie could have possibly said that I didn't realize that Jason was still talking.

"So aren't you in that nutty Aim for Success group that Miss Treadway and Miss Larsson both run?"

I hesitated for a moment. I swallowed hard as my mind scrambled around for a suitable response.

"No—well...I was, but..."

Before I knew it, Jason started acting like a wounded child and accusing me of leading him on and stuff. He started saying that if I really liked him, we should skip the dance and go somewhere and have sex. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I called him an asshole before telling him in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't go to bed with him if he was the last guy on earth. Right after that, he started the car back up and peeled out of the parking lot before telling me we were through. I was really surprised he drove me to the Faust when he could have just as easily left me in front of the A&P to fend for myself.

The prom is being held in the main ballroom at the Faust Hotel. The theme reminds me of the radio station down at the Harmony Heights Mall. The ballroom had been transformed into a candlelit trippy looking enchanted forest that seemed more tacky than romantic. I couldn't really complain though. Amy Darcie, Jenna Swanberg, and Sara Bess were on the planning committee. Amy was the one who came up with the name, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road after the Elton John song that plays on the radio.

I wiped away a few stray tears from my face. I hope I didn't smear any more of my mascara. In less than three more weeks, I'd be graduating from North Haskell. This isn't really about Jason anyway. This was supposed to be one of the last chances to hang out with my friends and have a good time before we all moved on with our lives. Thanks to Jason and Bobbie Brinkman, I couldn't get through this night quickly enough!

The sponsors had just called the names for the members of the prom royalty. I didn't know if I could face going back in there. I didn't really care if Jason had found someone else or not. I had bigger problems. Somehow Bobbie had gotten to most of my friends. As a result, everyone, including Amy has been giving me the cold shoulder since I got here. Maybe Bobbie didn't say anything to them about me. Maybe they noticed that I wasn't with Jason and they didn't want to get involved with the drama. Maybe I was reading too much into things and my friends were simply focusing on their own fun. Just the same, I was still hurt...some friends!

Since there were still a few more weeks of school left, and I didn't want to waste my ticket, I figured I might as well go back to the ballroom. I couldn't hide away forever. Who knows? Maybe I could find another boy to dance with. I wondered briefly if anyone would at least extend me one pity dance even though I know how terrible I am at it.

Right away, I realized that going back in was a mistake. The band that was hired for the evening started playing Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues. Almost the entire ballroom paired off with their respective partners to slow dance. Even the teachers who were chaperoning the dance were getting into it. I noticed that Mrs. McBride had brought along her husband. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and I could actually see his hand firmly cupping his wife's ass as they danced. Mr. Beebe was barely dancing with Miss Court; they were too busy making out with each other. I thought Miss Court was supposed to be seeing Coach Stalcup. What gives?

My eyes scanned the dimly lit ballroom to see if Jason was dancing with anyone else, but I couldn't spot him anywhere. I did see Bobbie Brinkman and Mark Perone though. Instead of looking bored and slightly embarrassed like he did at the Armada, Mark looked genuinely happy with his arms wrapped around Bobbie's waist like she was his one true love. That was when I realized I didn't really belong here anymore. I already hate Nights in White Satin, but now I know that my dislike would turn instantly to burning hatred any time I heard that stupid song again.

Thankfully when the song ended, the band switched to a Bobby Darin song, Mack the Knife. A lot of the dancers cleared the floor in pursuit of cake and punch, leaving the dancing mostly to the teachers who really seemed to appreciate it. As I left the ballroom and started down the hall in search of an exit I heard a gruff, somewhat masculine voice call out to me.

"Hey there, young lady!"

I turned around in the empty hall looking for the source of the voice. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Miss Larsson leaning against the wall with her hands in her pockets. She was sharply dressed in a crisp white short sleeved shirt and black dress slacks. Another woman was with her dressed in a dark suit. It was Velma Blount, one of the PE teachers from Talcott. Miss Blount is similar to Miss Larsson in build and stature with boyishly cropped light sandy hair and dark framed glasses like Miss Treadway. I guess the high school principals in Thatcher Blake definitely have a type when it comes to hiring female PE teachers. I've only seen her once before, but I know that Miss Blount and Miss Larsson are living together.

I wondered what they were doing here. Suddenly, I jumped when I heard a couple of girls emerging from the bathroom snickering to each other about something as they headed back to the dance. Quickly, I tried to hide my face on the off chance they'd seen me. Miss Blount chuckled and a bemused smile crossed her thin lips.

"Wow! Jumpy one isn't she, Birgitta? But she sure does look beautiful..."

I am already having a bad enough night as it is. All I need is to be made to endure jeers of "dyke" and "carpet muncher" from the whole school on Monday because of stupid Miss Larsson!

"What's going on, Ciara? You look upset." Miss Larsson said. "Have you been crying?"

My face felt flush with embarrassment while Miss Blount snickered deviously to herself.

"Knock it off, Vel." Miss Larsson said to her companion.

A couple more girls came out of the bathroom. This time, I noticed Sara Bess dressed in a white gown with a lacy shawl around her bare shoulders. For a split second, I thought she'd seen me, but then I could hear the band starting to play another song. I think it was a Dusty Springfield song, but by now I was too worried about whether Sara had seen me or not to be sure.

"Can we not talk right here?" I hissed at the two teachers. "Someone might see me!"

"Come along with me, young lady."

Miss Larsson led the way down an empty hall. She stopped just outside a small coffee shop that was closed for the night.

"How did you know I was here anyway?"

I asked once I was sure we were alone. Miss Larsson explained that she called my house hoping I'd answer the phone. She was calling to invite me to an "Aim for Success end of the school year party". At least, that was the explanation she wanted me to give in case anyone asked me. Instead, she'd gotten Aunt Francie who told her that I was here at the prom with Jason Pope. I could have died right then. I can't believe Miss Larsson called my house like that!

But there is one thing I've gotten to know about Miss Larsson during my last year at North Haskell. She never lies about anything. I began to wonder why no one told me about a party during the last Aim for Success meeting. No one talked about a party at all! Was this supposed to be some sort of surprise? Miss Blount's gruff voice barreled through my thoughts like a speeding freight train:

"So what's a pretty girl like you doing here anyway with no date?"

I did my best to fight back the tears that threatened to spill out and ruin the mascara I re-applied in the bathroom. Of course I had a date! Didn't Miss Blount pay any attention to what Miss Larsson said when she spoke to Aunt Francie on the phone earlier? In a voice that shook more and more as I spoke, I told the two gym teachers what happened on the way to the dance.

"It...hasn't been a very good night."

I said softly. Who was I kidding? It was the understatement of the year! Miss Larsson reacted to my story with a sort of dismissive motion of the hands.

"I doubt that's the worst thing to ever happen to you, young lady." Miss Larsson said. "Why don't you come along with us?"

The two gym teachers started down the hall in the general direction of the exit, but I hesitated. When Miss Larsson realized I wasn't following, she told Miss Blount to go on ahead and wait in the car. By the softened look on her face, I knew that Miss Larsson had an idea of what I was about to ask her.

"Where is CJ?" I asked. "Why didn't she come with you?"

CJ is my PE teacher, Miss Treadway, Bobbie Brinkman's aunt. I blinked back a few tears as I felt a momentary surge of heat in my face. Of course Bobbie has to know that the cross necklace I'm wearing really belongs to her nutty old aunt! How could anyone not know? It was pretty common knowledge that Miss Treadway always wore this necklace. She'd even touch the little gold cross if she ever heard a student swear or say anything she deemed inappropriate. I suppose that Bobbie told Jason and anyone else who would listen that I'm wearing her aunt's necklace and her suspicions about me are true! Oh God! Is this what it's like to die in real life?

"Miss Treadway is busy taking care of a few things." Miss Larsson said in a voice that was flat, even a bit terse. "I figured you might be here with a date...better to just avoid conflict."

My heart jumped into my throat when she said this. I was so embarrassed, I didn't know what to do or where to look.

"Maybe I should just go home then..."

I didn't really care about disappointing Miss Larsson. I didn't care what Miss Blount thinks either. I hardly know her anyway. I choked back a sob as my face burned with shame because I was sure that Miss Treadway would be furious that I decided to go back out with Jason.

Bobbie Brinkman was right about one thing. I do have a crush on Miss Treadway. But what she (hopefully) does not know is that Miss Treadway and I are lovers. For several months I've been carrying on with Bobbie's aunt CJ, and our relationship has gotten very serious. I only went out with Jason Pope because I thought it would get Bobbie to shut up and leave me alone. Now because I'd made the stupid mistake of wearing my gym teacher's necklace to prom, my life as of Monday morning will be completely ruined!

"Come on." Miss Larsson said firmly. "Velma is outside in the car waiting for us."

I could hear the muffled tune of another slow song coming from the general direction of the ballroom as I followed Miss Larsson outside to the parking lot. Miss Blount pulled up to the curb in a Plymouth Fury that looked brand new. I heard Miss Blount speaking through the open passenger side window:

"It would be a great honor to be Ciara Ackerman's chauffeur for the evening. Hop in, my beautiful princess!"

Miss Larsson directed me to get in the back seat while she took the front passenger seat. I started to gather the wispy blue fabric of my gown up so I could step in the car when I hesitated for a second. I wondered if I should go back inside and tell Jason that I'm leaving. But I couldn't do that, and I knew it. What would I say to him anyway? Sorry, I've decided not to stay. I'm going to a party with Miss Larsson and some other old lesbian gym teacher from Talcott. Since I wasn't up to committing instant social suicide this evening, I settled in the back seat of Miss Blount's new Fury and closed the door.

Once the car exited the parking lot of the Faust, we drove pretty much in silence except for Miss Larsson's whistling. The old blond gym teacher was whistling the tune of some song like she usually does when I've seen her in the gym or the locker room. Her whistling is very strange; not feminine at all. In fact, she whistles like a lot of older men I've heard, like the head janitor at school, or the guy who works as a landscaper at the Emmerson Community Center. After several minutes passed, Miss Blount casually mentioned the need to pick up some coffee and dish soap when the A&P opens up tomorrow.

The car passed through a part of Thatcher Blake that I've only seen a few times in my life. It's not that Thatcher Blake is that big of a city. It is actually mid-sized with about 160,000 people not counting the neighboring towns of Haskell and Harmony Heights. It's just that I walk just about everywhere I need to go because I haven't made enough money at my job to afford a car, and Aunt Francie rarely lets me use hers.