Taylor
THE LAST TIME I WAS at a high school dance was…let’s just say, I was high school age, but my date wasn’t. How did Jason and I get drafted to chaperone a high school dance?
With the words of Miss Missy Sharp, PTA President, ringing in my head, I searched my closet for something to wear based on the chaperone dress code. I read the email she sent me, “Mrs. Bishop, please stick to the chaperone dress code. Nothing too low cut in the front or back. Skirt should be no more than two inches above the knee. No midriff tops. If you opt for slacks, please no skinny or tight pants. And no stilettos or stripper heels.” I laughed and shook my head at the absurdness of her email.
I reached into my closet and pulled out a fuchsia jersey Donna Karan, with a deep neckline that hugged every curve I had. I looked at myself from all angles in the mirror. This dress should get me out of chaperone duty.
I walked downstairs to the kitchen. “Okay, guys, how do I look?” I slowly turned around and modeled my modest attire choice for the evening.
“Mom, you look great,” Zach said as he smiled.
“Thank you.” I looked at Jason. “Honey?”
He smiled and then a frown covered his face. “No.”
“No?”
“Zach, let Jessica know we’ll be ready in thirty minutes. Your mom and I need to talk.”
Zach kissed me on the cheek and left the kitchen. “Mom, you look great.”
“Thank you baby.” I turned toward Jason and he was still frowning. “What’s wrong?”
He stepped to me, rubbed my shoulders and kissed me. “You know I love the way you dress. It’s one of the things that drew me to you…those curves are dangerous, and that’s why you need to change.”
I stepped out of his grasp. “Excuse me?”
“Honey, we are chaperoning a high school dance at an all boys school.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t the boys bringing dates?”
“Let’s be real. You don’t look like the typical parental chaperone they’re used to seeing at a dance.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a walking sex dream.” He stepped closer and I stepped back. “Come on baby…it’s the truth.” He stepped closer and eased his hands around my waist.
“You want me to change, because…”
“I don’t want to spend the entire dance monitoring the restroom, because all the stalls are full of horny teenaged boys trying to deal with the reactions their bodies are having when they see you in this dress.” He kissed me. “And don’t get me started on the dads. I’m not going to jail because I hit some middle aged man for getting too friendly with my wife.”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Too sexy, huh?”
“If it was just us going out, I’d be cool, but not tonight.”
“I’ll change.” I kissed him.
“Thank you.”
I looked around the gym and I couldn’t believe the way some of the mothers were dressed. I’m so glad not to be part of the “mommy click.” I had changed into a more modest, fitted taupe Alaia dress with a deep scoop neckline and mid-thigh full skirt. For me this was practically a heavy bathrobe. But some people, like Missy Sharp, found it too revealing, and I was banished to the coat check and told if there was one that fit, to put it on. It was very hard not to pop Missy in her mouth.
I snuck out of my cell to the gym to watch Zach and Jessica…they looked so cute dancing. I stood at the punch table trying to stay out of trouble, when I noticed a young man sitting by himself. I filled two glasses with punch and walked over to him.
“Hi.”
He looked up and his eyes were filled with sadness. I looked around and sat down next to him. “Hi.” I handed him one of the glasses.“Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Jamal.”
“I’m Taylor. Why aren’t you dancing?”
“My date abandoned me.”
“Why would she do that?” I sipped some punch.
“She said she only came with me to make Tyrone Reynolds jealous.” He sipped some punch.
“Who’s Tyrone Reynolds?”
He pointed across the room to this kid who was six feet tall and a wall. “Looks like he’s here with someone else.”
“She said that’s his rebound.”
“I see. So you’re going to sit and sulk?”
“Or go home.”
“Or ask someone else to dance.”
“Everyone has a date.”
I nodded. “Come on.” I put my glass down next to my seat, stood up, and extended my hand to him.
“I can’t. Rules say no dancing with teachers or the staff.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m neither. Come on…take my hand.” My hand was dangling. “Jamal, this is a one-time offer…three…two…” He grabbed my hand and stood up. “We are going out there in the middle of the dance floor, and show what’s her name?”
“Felicia Owens.”
“We are going to show Felicia what she’s missing.” I led him out to the dance floor and we danced for three songs. Then the band played a slow song, and he almost passed out. I looked past him to Jason and nodded to him to rescue me. “Put your hands around my waist.”
“I can’t Miss Taylor.”
“Jamal, do it. Be a badass and every girl in here will want to get with you.”
“Really, Miss Taylor?”
“Dude, you are dancing with a sexy, older woman.”
He laughed. “Okay, Miss Taylor.” He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist, and I put my hands around his neck.
We swayed back and forth to the music. I was careful not to get too close, remembering Jason’s comments. “Don’t look now, but she’s looking at you.” He started to turn around. “I said don’t look.”
“Really?”
I looked at Jason and he was walking towards us. He stopped and tapped Jamal on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but this beautiful young lady wanted to know if she could dance with you?” he asked.
I looked at Jamal and a huge smile covered his face. “Miss Taylor, do you mind?”
I addressed the cute girl. “He’s an excellent dancer.” I stepped aside and she slid into his arms.
He mouthed to me, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I turned to face Jason. “Seems I’ve lost my dance partner.”
He extended his hand to me. “Would you do me the honor of this dance?”
“I don’t know. Do you think you can handle being close to me in this dress?”
He slipped his hand around my waist, pulled me to his chest and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’ve been waiting all night to dance with the prettiest girl in the room.” He crushed his lips against mine and it felt like it did the last time I was at a high school dance. And like my last high school dance experience, I got the same physical reaction from my date.
“Do you need to go to the restroom?” I teased.
“Only if you come with me.”
“Mr. Bishop, I believe that is against chaperone protocol,” we smiled. “But I think I left my other jacket in the coat room.”
“Really?”
“I was told if there was a problem, the coat room monitor could help me.”
“Seems you’re in luck, because I’m the coat room monitor.”
“I guess this is my lucky night.”
“Follow me, and I’ll see what I can do about helping you find your jacket.” I took Jason’s hand and escorted him to my assigned chaperone station, the coat room.