Free A Thin Line by DL White Page B

belong there.
    Morgan and I had gone shopping for dresses. Mine was black, sleek, strapless with a slit up the side that stopped mid-thigh. I bought a pair of heels that made my legs look like they belonged on Beverly Johnson. My mom did my hair and makeup. I was flawless, and proud to say so.  This would be our last Homecoming Dance and we planned to make it count.
    Preston arrived right on time in a black suit, baby blue dress shirt, skinny tie with blue pin stripes and black shoes buffed to a high shine. His hair was in its normal state of perfection.
    "Hey. You look great," he said, his eye roving from my hair to my feet and back up. "Really great."
    "Thanks," I said, flashing hot. Crazy how he still did that to me. "You look really nice."
    "Thanks. Is my tie straight?"
    "It looks fine." I gave him a peck on the lips, which my mom and Corrine insisted on getting on film.
    Our moms must have taken an entire roll of photos before we climbed into the Jeep and headed toward the Club. The parking lot was already crawling with cars, girls tip toeing across the pavement in long flowing dresses and guys strutting proudly, yelling jokes and names at each other. I heard the thump of bass coming from the dance floor. The beat matched the thump of my heart as we made our way inside.
    A disco ball spun in the center of the room, shooting out sparks of light. Couples were already mid floor, dancing, laughing and talking. A few people were gathered around the punch bowl, waiting for a cup. There were rumors that someone planned to spike the punch, so the bowl was being guarded by the Guidance Counselor.
    We met up with Morgan and Nate and danced our hearts out. Preston sweated all the way through his shirt, having shed his jacket early on. Morgan and I headed toward the ladies room to freshen up.
    "Did you guys get a room for tonight?" Morgan asked.
    "No," I said, frowning into the mirror. "Preston has to work tomorrow. He thought it would be better to work this weekend because he's taking prom weekend off." I dabbed a little powder on my face and pulled out a tube of lipstick. "He doesn't work until late tomorrow, so I think we're going to sneak up to the lake for a little bit."
    "Oooh.... bow chicka bow bow ," Morgan teased, snagging my lipstick before I could apply it to my lips. "I like this color. You think it would look good on–"
    A door slammed open behind us and we both turned to see who was making so much noise. Stacey Fullmer, my junior high nemesis stepped out of the stall.
    She moved around us to pump soap into her hands, lather and scrub them under the spray of cold water. Morgan and I ignored her, chatting away and fixing our makeup. I grabbed the lipstick back from her and applied a thick coat, then blotted with a paper towel.
    I snapped my clutch closed. "I'm ready. Are you?"
    "So ready," Morgan said, tossing her paper towel in the garbage, narrowly passing Stacey on the way out.
    "Hey, Angie," I heard behind me. Against my better judgment, I stopped and turned around.
    "Yes, Stacey?"
    She wore a lace dress that was nearly see-thru and barely covered her ass. "How do you like my handiwork?" She asked, ripping a towel from the machine and rubbing her hands dry.
    I stared at her, confused. "I don't follow. What are you talking about?"
    "Your boyfriend?"
    "Preston? What about him?"
    She sighed, tossed the paper towel into the garbage and teetered her way over to me in four inch stiletto heels. "I heard you bragging about going up to the lake tonight. Probably to fuck. I mean, that's why he and I used to go there."
    "Excuse me?" I was starting to see red, but trying not to show it. Morgan grabbed my arm, in case I felt like slapping her.
    "Oh, he didn't tell you how he heard about that place? Didn't tell you who took him there first? Who taught him all the sexy, dirty shit he knows how to do? He didn't, did he?"
    I shook my head. "You're a fucking liar. He's only ever been with me."
    She chuckled then her lip curled in an