High School Confidential

This Night I had a dream, which was not all a dream. -- Lord Byron, "Darkness" This night, a silvery, swollen moon floated in a heaven of diamond stars. Beneath the graceful silhouettes of tall palms, water bubbled slowly into a Moorish reflecting pool of rough stone, rocking a bed of fragrant lilies. A steady beat resonated from the adobe arches and crumbling walls that surrounded a wide square of tables and dripping sprays of red bougainvillea. This court formed the heart of an ancient mission where Father Jun"pero Serra, driven unstoppably onward by a vision only he understood, had elevated the host and established the future County of Orange. Tomorrow the bells would toll over the chapel as they had for centuries. But here lay no space for yesterday or the morning. Here only the moment unfolded. This night, my date turned to gaze lovingly into my eyes. Her long blond hair blew in the soft, warm air, danced above her sparkling white gown. I in my tuxedo put an arm around her shoulder as we advanced slowly along the flagstone pathways. A hundred people stood scattered across the grass, talking and laughing in couples or groups, resplendent in their evening wear. As we passed through them, my date put her hand on mine. "Nice!" I said, smiling tenderly. "I love it. Nice touch." "See?" she said. "We're such a happy couple." We shared another vulnerable grin. "Jeremy!" Alexis Newton wore a tight pink Dior dress with her hair pulled back into two pigtails. She sipped Diet Coke from a plastic cup through a straw and waved. Her friend Padma hovered nearby, giggling. "Hey, see, I told you I'd introduce you guys," I said. "This is my girlfriend Heather." "Hi," said Heather. They shook hands and exchanged warm smiles. "You've got a good man standing next to you," said Alexis. "Your boyfriend's really nice," said Padma. Her long black hair was elaborately done up, the silver flower ring in her nose glinted. "Thanks," said Heather. "Are you guys going over?" I asked them. "Yeah, soon," said Alexis. "Our dates have gone missing." She pulled her brows down. "Grrr. I'm about to like hop the fence and go smoke a cigarette." "Where are our loser dates?" said Padma and started to laugh. Heather and I continued on. A few dozen paces later, smiling broadly, I said through my teeth, "You've gotta talk to them more. We've gotta get them to like you so we can get invited to the afterparty." "Oh, my God," said Heather. "Those girls are so catty. I don't even know what to say to these people." "Well, we've got to come up with something," I said. "That's one of our goals for tonight." She bit her lip thoughtfully. "I guess I could ask them for a cigarette." "Smile," I said. We beamed at each other, exchanged loving gazes. Other couples passed us, leaving the dancing for the seclusion of the empty archways at the far end of the central courtyard. Derrick Littlefield stood by a mostly abandoned table. His golden tan and curly blond hair glowed like Renaissance art over a white tuxedo and pink shirt. He sneezed. Then he sneezed again. "Oh," he moaned. "I'm so sick." "Dude, I think you're like allergic to prom," I said. Derrick laughed, displaying brilliant teeth. "No doubt. See, I knew they wouldn't have the dogs and Breathalyzers. They can't afford to bring an officer down.Iversen, Jeremy is the author of 'High School Confidential ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780743283632 and ISBN 0743283635.