Lucy sipped her white lightning from the DJ booth. Her heart had thundered for a few beats as Claudia ladled it from the punch bowl before explaining “white lightning” was Prohibition slang for bootleg liquor. This concoction, conversely, was virgin sangria—mostly Sprite and orange slices. Not nearly potent enough to blind anyone.
She twiddled a dial on the lighting board as her classmates trickled into the gymnasium. The dance committee had all arrived early to make sure the lights on their reimagined Broadway never went dark. Lucy hadn’t escaped her house without a few obligatory pre-prom photos, however. She didn’t really mind. A few years ago, Lucy wouldn’t have believed her parents would ever let her attend.
Although Jess looked incredibly sophisticated in black satin, her short hair sculpted in a Marcel wave, she adamantly refused to join them in the photos. Lucy had been surprised—Jess didn’t seem like the self-conscious sort—but selfishly glad. Going to prom with her best friend was the way things should be. Claudia’s turquoise dress had a drop-waist cinched with peacock feathers that complemented Lucy’s crescendo of gray. They struck a pose gleefully. Giggling, arms around each other, huge smiles.
No matter what lay in store for her, Lucy would have these photos as proof that, at least for tonight, life had been good.
Pride swelled inside her as more students took the dance floor oohing and ahhing at the scenery. Lucy had positioned the spotlights so they hit the mirror ball in such a way that blue and purple snowflakes fell on the speakeasy patrons.
“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
Claudia thrust out her hand, a mischievous grin spreading her lips.
“I told you I was manning the battle stations,” Lucy protested.
“I wanna dance with somebody who loves me.” She winked.
“Where’s Jess?”
“My moll’s outside yammering on the phone.” Claudia shrugged. What could be so important that Jess would take a call in the middle of prom?
Lucy sighed. She had zero interest in dancing but she couldn’t leave her bestie hanging. “Don’t touch any of the dials,” she commanded the DJ, another Heron student, with more piercings than she could count. He grunted his compliance.
“He’ll be fine,” Claudia assured her and tugged Lucy down the rickety stairs toward the center of the gym.
To her left, King Kong did a tap dance on the Empire State Building. To her right, cars beeped their horns in a vintage Times Square.
“It’s incredible, Clauds.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to you,” Lucy corrected.
Looping her arm and swinging Lucy onto the dance floor, Claudia compromised, saying, “Thanks to us!” and erupted into contented laughter.
Lucy tried to follow her lead as Claudia performed some kind of mash-up between swing dancing and the Charleston. If only she’d been a teenager in the ’90s when moshing was cool. Headbanging Lucy could manage. Nevertheless, after a few minutes she was breathless and chortling and didn’t give a damn if she was writhing like she’d stuck her hand in an electric socket.
When she spied Jess making her way back toward their vicinity, she pecked Claudia on the cheek. “Thanks for the dance, doll face. I’ll cut in later.”
“You’d better!” Claudia wagged her finger.
The second Jess laid her hand on Claudia’s waist, Claudia smiled at her like she was her whole world. Tightness pinched Lucy’s chest. They would beat the odds and make long distance work. They had to. Claudia deserved to be happy more than anyone she knew. And Lucy wanted to believe in love, believe that someone would stare at her with the same adoration one day.
If she made it that long. The deck seemed stacked against her.
Perspiration trickling down her spine, Lucy decided to get some air. She was halfway out the side door of the gymnasium when a familiar voice asked, “Leaving so soon?”
Lucy twirled on the spot.
Wow.
Ravi stood before her in white tie and tails, light bouncing off his patent-leather brogues, no glasses. He’d even slicked his hair back with gel.
“Just something you had lying around?” she said.
“A gentleman never travels without formalwear.”
“I can see why not.”
Lucy detected pink undertones to his cheeks even under the lavender mood lighting. He coughed into his hand.
Methodically, Ravi raised his eyes to hers, appraised the length of her body, and met her eyes again. “You look captivating tonight, Lucinda.”
Captivating. He did have a way with words. There was nothing Lucy could do about the buzzing beneath her skin.
“Dance with me,” she said, feeling brave. He licked his lips. She held his gaze and leaned into him. “Ravi.”
One second. Two seconds. Three.
He lifted his elbow to escort her. “It would be my honor.”
Lucy had gone to school dances with Cole, of course, but she’d never had this same exhilaration coursing through her veins, as if someone had popped a Champagne cork inside her. They wove their way between the other couples but Lucy was scarcely aware of their existence.
Wordlessly, Ravi interlocked his fingers with hers and placed a firm hand on her lower back. It felt so right there.
The tempo slowed to a ballad as he pressed her closer, searched her face. A smooth, yearning saxophone played the opening bars to a Cole Porter song Lucy knew well. She wouldn’t put it past Claudia to have provided the DJ with a set list of Prohibition Era music.
Ravi’s fingertips tensed on her ribs as he led her in a box step. Mostly that involved swaying to the beat. Good thing. Lucy was positive she’d be swaying in his arms, no matter what.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I was thinking the universe has a sense of humor.”
“Oh?”
“This song. I’ve got you under my skin.”
“I see your point.” He laughed, twirling her in and out.
“You’re good at this,” Lucy told him.
“I’ve had lessons,” Ravi explained. She arched an eyebrow. “The benefits of a boarding school education.”
Lucy laughed as he spun her once more, then she slipped her hands around his neck, teasing the tiny hairs resting there. She felt an involuntary tremor cascade through him.
Ravi touched one finger to the tourmaline at her throat and she held her breath. “I like what you’ve done with it.”
“Beautiful and practical,” Lucy quipped.
“Like you.”
Oh boy. The tourmaline could do nothing for her pulse now.
Ravi glanced at his hand as if remembering he was still technically a chaperone for the evening, and dropped it back to Lucy’s hip.
“I hope the Eaton High prom doesn’t disappoint,” she said lightly.
“Nothing about Eaton has been a disappointment.”
Emboldened, Lucy tipped forward until they were almost nose-to-nose. She couldn’t kiss him in the middle of the dance floor, all of her classmates and Principal Petersen ogling them, but she wanted more.
“Let down your shield.”
The song was almost over.
His eyes went wide and curious. “You don’t know how hard it is for me not to let you in, Lucinda.”
“Stop trying,” she said.
Ravi obeyed. Tingles crashed over her and Lucy laughed in a giddy way. “I wish you could feel what I feel,” she murmured into his ear.
He braced one hand between her shoulder blades and dipped her, low and deep. “Believe me, I feel far more than I should.”
His gaze traced her like a caress.
“I’ve heard enough shoulds to last a lifetime, Ravi.”
Lucy floated up, up, up. There was hunger to his energy tonight.
And she liked it.
Extraordinarily slowly, Ravi raised her back to an upright position and drew up his shield. That had been more intense than kissing. More intimate than anything Lucy had ever done with Cole.
“It’s hard for me to keep you out too,” she told him, and a pained look crossed his face.
Nearby, one of the bulbs on a floor light blew. Perfect timing.
“I’d better go check on that,” she said.
“Lucinda—”
Now she really did need a breather.
Flashing him a wobbly smile, she promised, “Be right back,” and dashed off before Ravi could finish whatever he’d been about to say.
Prom had been perfect. Reality could wait.