Free Prom Kings and Drama Queens by Dorian Cirrone

together?
    “Hey,” Brian said, “cool. Grapes.” He spun around.
    “Can you guess who I am? Grams gave me the idea.” I thought for a minute. “You’re Galahad, right?” Then, as if on cue, Brandy rubbed her practically naked gymnast body up against him and purred, “My knight in shining armor.”
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    I looked down at my costume. Why oh why hadn’t I thought to come as Guinevere?
    When the elevator doors opened, we all stepped in.
    At least I fit in this time.
    I punched the PH button and wondered what to expect when I got upstairs. I’d never been to a popular crowd party before. Most of the parties Lindsay and I went to were pretty tame. Pizza, popcorn, a movie.
    Twice a year—at Christmas and at the end of the school year—a few of us would get together and Lindsay’s mother would let us eat the food gifts she’d gotten from her fourth graders while we sorted through her other presents to see if there was anything we wanted.
    The minute the elevator doors slid open onto a makeshift dance floor with blaring music, it was pretty clear this party would be nothing like sharing cheese logs and sifting through a stack of Best-Teacher-in-the-World mugs.
    While several couples were grinding in the middle of the living room, others hovered around a bar in the corner of the room. Behind it, Austin stood surrounded by several liquor bottles and various mugs and glasses with sports team logos.
    “There you are,” Lindsay said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her. At the same time, Brandy tugged on Brian’s sword and dragged him in the direction of the bar. Brian rolled his eyes and 88

    mouthed “help” toward me.
    Help? Me? Brian wanted me to help him get away from Brandy Clausen? Hooray! It was like a dream come true. I was trying to figure out exactly how to do that when Lindsay whispered, “What do we do now?” I knew what I wanted to do—rescue Brian from the Clausen clutches. But I couldn’t abandon Lindsay. “Try to mingle?” I said.
    Lindsay nodded as we stood there awkwardly, looking around for a way to blend in. I imagined how dorky we probably looked: a stick of gum and a bunch of grapes amid a sea of half-clothed gymnasts, Girl Scouts, and geishas rubbing up against one another on the dance floor.
    Suddenly, I heard a familiar rattling noise behind me. I turned to find Daniel shaking his Goobers box over his head in time to the music. “So what do you think?” he said.
    “About what?” I yelled over the music.
    “You know, the whole half-naked girls-slash-athletes party scene. It’s the American Dream, isn’t it?” Again, that was the kind of superior attitude that annoyed me about Daniel. Why couldn’t he just enjoy the party? Why did he have to analyze everything to death? This wasn’t psychology class.
    “Why do you come if you have such contempt for it?” I said.
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    Before Daniel could answer, Lindsay broke in,
    “What are they doing over there with the lemons?” She scrunched her nose as we watched Brianna suck on a slice and swig something out of a tiny Miami Heat glass.
    “Chocolate cake shots,” Daniel said. “It’s some kind of liqueur with vodka and sugar on the lemon. Austin’s got this party thing down to a science. Beer doesn’t get the girls drunk enough because they don’t like the taste, and they don’t want to gain weight. The shots taste good and get them drunk faster.”
    “What’s so great about that?” Lindsay said.
    Daniel laughed. “Think about it.”
    Lindsay’s aluminum foil sounded a nervous crinkle.
    I glared back at Daniel. “You seem to know a lot about these parties. Again, I ask, why do you come if you hate it so much?”
    Daniel popped a Goober into his mouth and held out the box toward me. I shook my head. “I don’t hate it,” he said. “I don’t love it either. As for the reason I come—” He gestured toward the bar with his head.
    “She’s over there, chugging a chocolate cake shot.” I followed his signal but