Survival Of The Fittest

"Ah, right, sign in," Celeste remembered, lightly slapping her palm to her forehead. A, shoot, they had to do that. Celeste looked around the room a bit until her eyes came upon the book, with a pen beside it. Looking up at John and jerking her head in one direction, Celeste loosened her grip on his arm as she walked towards it. She didn't think many guys would appreciate being dragged around by their date, especially at Prom, and most especially when said date was a tiny thing. Of course, she would have liked to do that, Celeste mused a she signed her name in cursive, debating on adding a little heart at the end. But she wanted John to feel in charge, like guys wanted to be.

Besides, if she made him happy here, imagine how happy he could make her later. Celeste hastily scribbled a heart at the end of her name, handing the pen off to John with a small cat-like smile.

As she waited, she looked towards the refreshment tables. While they really should dance..what was the harm in having a snack first? But then again Let him lead, girl. let him lead, then you can lead later. "So, Big Guy," she asked, a playful edge to her voice. "Are you ready to not embarrass me with dancing, or do you want to drink something, eat something first? If you're going to have fun tonight, you might as well get some energy, right?" she winked.

[Debut of William Hearst]

Alone in his room, William stood in front of a borrowed full length mirror set against the wall; he was fussing over his outfit, making sure everything was on right and that everything looked perfect. Nervous as he was, he fumbled with the tie 'round his neck, trying his best to attempt and get it tied, focusing on the black strip of fabric so much that he didn't notice the entrance of his mother into his room; a clearing of her throat and a brief knock upon the door spun William around to look upon his mother, fingers catching in the knot of the tie. A smile crossed his mother's face as she tried not to laugh, but William felt the fool; his fingers caught in his tie, and they weren't even caught in the right kind of knot, nervousness and over thinking causing William to have fumbled the routine he had done at least a couple dozen times before; analytical, mechanical mind taking over instead of instinctual.
"Here, let me help."

His mother stepped closer, taking hold of the tie in her hands as she undid William's fumbled knot, freeing his fingers in the process; within moments, she had fixed his tie, still smiling, feeling quite proud of how her son looked. She straightened out the shoulders of his jacket and the collar of both his shirt and his jacket, only to mess them up once more as she pulled William close in a momentary hug.

"You look just like your father wearing that, do you know that?"

"Yes mom, you've told me before."

William simply smiled and humored her as she fussed with his outfit. After-all, he somewhat expected this, so it wasn't that much of a surprise when it came about, and he wasn't exactly in a rush to leave for the prom. He had time to spare and no true reason to rush, having no one to pick up or meet.
"You got everything? Your wallet, ID, keys?"

"Yes, I've got everything. The ticket is on the desk."
"Well put it in with your wallet, you don't want to lose that."

With a smile and final hug, she left the room, leaving William to finish preparing; which he went straight to doing, with little to do besides slip on his shoes and deposit the prom ticket into his pocket. There was nothing much to say to his parents as he stepped out of the bedroom, ready to leave for the prom. His mother said her part and could do nothing more than smile at her son; William's father, on the other hand, approached him with a wide smile.
"Well well, you like nice."

He put his hands on William's shoulders, tugging at them a bit to make sure the suit fit right; he added a question just to be sure.

"How does it fit? Not tight around the shoulders is it?"

"No dad, it's fine."
"Heh, alright, I won't keep you. I just wanted to make sure. Do you have everything? Sure you don't need any money?"

"I'm sure dad. Thanks though. I should get going."
"Right, right, you don't want to be late. Hey, try not to spend the night alone, alright? Trust me, it's never fun. Find yourself someone to dance with and enjoy yourself. Just... don't come home too late. I don't want to hear you sneaking in with some boy or girl, alright?"

William couldn't help but crack a smile and let out a brief chuckle at the thought.

"Heh heh, alright dad, I'll try."
"Have fun, okay?"

"I will."

---

William wasn't at prom more than five minutes before the importance of the night weighed on him. It was his senior prom, he was alone and he didn't exactly see anyone he recognized well enough to join; suffice it to say, he became quite nervous, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he scanned the dance floor, as he glanced at those standing around watching or drinking or snacking. He wasn't the only one alone, and he never truly expected to be, but that was doing little to ease his mind or his stomach; a knotted mess within his gut telling him in few words how he felt about the night. Feeling a mess, he stood alone for a while, not knowing for sure if he should stay; nervousness was never a good thing to try and work through, and it clouded his mind with doubt about the potential for the night, about his confidence and of course, made him believe things that would have otherwise made no sense.

But he wasn't about to let that ruin his night. No, tonight was supposed to be special, and he was going to enjoy himself however he could, nervousness be damned. A quick glance around the room gave him an idea, and he locked unto a random person among the crowds; a young woman in a beautiful dress, deep red and purple hues, flowing fabric always daring to brush the floor, to catch beneath her feet but not quite making it. He swallowed hard, pushing his heart back into his chest as he made his way to the snack tables, moving among the small groups that spoke amongst themselves, between the stags and stag-ettes that stood with their friends, stopping at the table to get nothing more than a pair of drinks. He didn't notice the music and didn't focus on the other people, almost bumping into another young man at the tables, almost spilling his drinks and surely coming close to spoiling the young man's cookie and, of course, his tuxedo.

"Oh, sorry."

He backed up a few steps before flashing a smile, making sure he hadn't spilled anything. Everything seemed to be in order as he looked up at the young man before him, trying to remember his name; he wasn't that well versed on every students names, but he was sure he could at least pull a name out to match the face he was looking upon. He just hoped that is was the right name for the right face.

"Heh, I guess I should pay more attention. Nice tux by the way. Good thing I stopped in time, huh Everett?"

He beamed another smile, hoping that if he smiled enough, there wouldn't be any animosity to be left between them when he inevitably resumed the task at hand.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got my eye on making a good impression on that girl there. You should try it, enjoy yourself and see if you can come away from the night with some lucky girl. You certainly look good enough in that tux to pull it off; Hell, you'd probably have me trying to make a move if I thought you would be receptive."

A sly grin crossed William's face, joined with a wink just to get the point across before lifting one of the cups in a pseudo-toast; to the evening, to their fun and perhaps even to the hint made a moment earlier. But he wouldn't stick around to chat much longer, spotting his opening among the crowds and nodding to Everett before slipping by, his sights set and his mind made up; he wasn't going to be deterred from his goal and even if he fumbled and failed, at least he will have tried. He approached Jennifer with a smile, but realized too late that he was drawing a blank when it came to her name; he knew that it should be in his mind somewhere, but before he could conjure it up, he spoke and began what he feared may become a poor decision.

"Hey, how's it going? How are you enjoying prom so far?"

He was already committed and couldn't quite back out now; but he was going to try and avoid showing his nervousness, flashing a smile and offering Jennifer one of the drinks in hand.

Here goes nothing.

John took the pen from her and leant down to write in the book. He looked over the other names already down there - all of them actually existed. Santa Claus hadn't arrived with Abraham Lincoln in tow.

"So, Big Guy, Are you ready to not embarrass me with dancing, or do you want to drink something, eat something first? If you're going to have fun tonight, you might as well get some energy, right?"

John glanced up at his date and chuckled.

"Well, it's best to stay hydrated, so we should get a drink." he told her. Was she serious - they would have 'fun' later? Maybe she knew of an after-prom-party where there would be beds. He doubted she would want to walk back to her house, assuming her sister would be joining her mother in being out.

((Ma'afu Tuigamala continued from The National Anthem))

Maf shuffled into the recreational center, decked out in attractive colours and miles of ribbon, dim coloured lights setting a kind of ambience that seemed slightly sleazier than intended by the management. Maf wasn't the most punctual person in the world when it came to social events, but he'd made a point of arriving early enough so that he could enjoy the night with his friends in the football squad.

Unfortunately for Maf, it seemed his friends from the football squad hadn't made that same resolution. The large Fijian sighed audibly as he realised the only people who had arrived yet were the nerds and academic types he'd never gotten to know in his years at Bayview. He smoothed his tuxedo jacket down uneasily, the slightly crinkled suit making Maf look more refined than he was comfortable with. He walked over to the snacks table, bobbing his head to the beat of a song he didn't recognise, and picked up one of the mini hot-dogs laid out on a pristine white plate. Eating the battered sausage, he watched as couples danced, friends bickered, and one weedy, shifty-looking boy nearly spilled a glass of wine or something on someone and spent far too long apologising. Maf found himself transfixed on the spectacle of this boy, someone he'd seen round his neighbourhood a few times a year or so for reasons unknown. It was funny, and Maf chuckled as the boy raised an impromptu toast to whatever before moving away. Maf tracked him as the boy moved towards a...

Maf's jaw dropped slightly, making him look like a particularly badly-manufactured version of those circus games where you throw the ball into the clown's mouth.

Maf had only met Jennifer Perez once - a couple of weeks before in the parking garage of the mall. He'd been waylaid by Bret and his sidekicks, and she'd stepped in, not knowing what was going on. Maf had resented her for it for about five seconds, but acknowledging her assistance, he'd given her a ride home and they'd hit it off fairly well - or, at least, Maf thought they had. He hadn't seen her since, but she'd been floating around his mind a lot lately for some bizarre reason. But there she was, wearing a modest but elegant dark red dress. She looked...well, she looked beautiful in the flowing dress, and Maf found himself drifting over to her, his bulky frame cutting through the thin crowds. The shifty boy was talking to her, but that wasn't a problem - all he needed to do was ask her to dance.

All he needed to do was ask her to dance.

All I need to do is ask her to dance.

Maf would've frozen up, but the adrenaline was pumping, and when that adrenaline was pumping, Maf just had to go with the flow. He moved up to Jennifer, standing in front of her.

"Hey," he said to Jennifer, his broad smile present and accounted for. He turned to the shifty boy and nodded, almost as if to say to him that his work here was done - unlike Maf to do so, yes, but he was doing it anyway.

Then, almost as if it were a reflex, something he'd done a thousand times before, he bowed slightly to Jennifer, chuckling at the oddness of such an action. With that, he held out his hand and asked, his voice just above that of a mumble -

"Would you like to dance?"

Everett munched on his cookie, then choked briefly as a guy missed him by a hair, nearly causing him to spill crumbs all over himself. Fortunately for all involved, Everett had a rare moment of grace and balance and caught the few loose crumbs in his left hand. Before he could snap something at the guy (William, he thought, but that didn't really narrow it down; there were at least two Williams at Bayview in the senior class alone) he apologized.

Everett was instantly mollified. Clumsiness was something he could understand, and politeness was the best way to deal with it.

" 'S no problem," he said. "Yup. Good thing. Thanks for paying attention."

Then William made a comment about girls. Everett blanched, though the lights hopefully kept it from being evident. He glanced in the direction William indicated and saw the girl he was talking about, Jennifer... Romita, was it? She'd been in Everett's history class the year before, and, if he remembered correctly, was retaking that same Junior history class now. That wasn't the sort of thing that made an impression on him, at least, not a positive one.

And, William was suggesting that he, Everett, the least desirable male in the entire Senior class, ask a girl to dance? Some chance of that. He'd never work up the nerve, and even if he did, he'd never be accepted. Everett was sure that even Laverne Falciander, the heavy girl he'd met behind the mall, had more of a chance of finding an enjoyable date tonight. At least she tried to better herself.

"Thanks," he said. "Good luck."

He didn't even catch William's comment the two of them.

Then William was gone, and Everett was left to pick up another cookie.

---

Standing off to the side, Jennifer was starting to get a little bit nervous. It was Prom, but not much was happening. She had yet to spot anyone she knew as more than a name from class. Her friends probably wouldn't turn up until halfway through the dance. Being late was fashionable, for some reason.

At least her dress was holding up, both in terms of structural integrity and compared to the other girls' outfits. She was proud of it, really proud. It had taken a lot of work, but it had all been worth it. She actually felt like she looked good for once.

Apparently somebody agreed.

A boy made his way over towards her, from near the snack table. He was carrying a couple of drinks. Jennifer was all set for him to pass her by, but then he stopped in front of her, and spoke to her, and suddenly things were complicated, and she didn't know what to do at all, and she was getting nervous, and, and...

And, fuck, I don't even know his name. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She knew what he wanted. He was going to ask her to dance or something, and she didn't even know his name.

She automatically responded to his questions, though.

"I'm doing, um, good, thanks. The dance is really, um, interesting."

He smiled at her and offered her a drink, and for one terrifying moment of paranoia Jennifer was in every health class party safety lecture she'd ever been subjected to, being told never to take a drink from a stranger, but she couldn't be rude, but she didn't know him, but...

"Hey."

But there was a voice she recognized, and there was someone she recognized, and she found herself saying to the boy she didn't know, "Um, no thank you, I do, um really appreciate it, though."

And then Maf bowed slightly, actually bowed, and asked her to dance, and she felt so horrible because she was going to disappoint this other guy, no way around it, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, and it was Prom, so it would be awful for him, but it was Prom and she had to do something for herself, just this once, just this one time at the last high school dance, and she smiled at the boy, nicely, hoping she was being gentle, and she turned to Maf and she said, "I'd love to."

Well, here it is, Bishop thought silently to himself, as he pulled his sleek silver convertible Mercedes-Benz (which his mother had been so charitable as to lend him for the night) into a parking space. Adjusting his sharp black suit, he let his eyes wander across the exterior of the rec center. This was it. One of the biggest, if not THE biggest, experiences of his high-school life. Even if every class, every test, every free period, and every other of the vast list of experiences that Bishop didn't have time to mention were forgotten, this night would be the defining moment of his adolescence that he'd never forget.

And neither would she.

Bishop turned his gaze away from the building, repositioning itself upon the beautiful girl sitting in the passenger seat. Tiffany Baker. What an icon of purity she was that night. Her hair, her makeup, her orange-yellow dress, everything was near perfection.

Whatever I did to deserve a date like this, Bishop recited to himself for the umpteenth time,It couldn't have been enough.

Smiling at her, he motioned to the rec center. "You ready?"

It was prom night, the most glorious night for any and every high school senior. She had spent the whole afternoon at the salon getting her hair curled, and then another two hours applying make-up. She and her mother had gone to a small dress boutique in Minneapolis to pick out her dress, and it was beautiful. Her mother had spoiled her silly with it, but she had insisted that anything for her daughter was worth the price.

The dress was an elaborate ball-gown, cast from warm gold coloured fabric. The bodice was well-fitted, outlining the figure that she had spent years maintaining on the cheerleading team. Light orange thread was used in embroidering an intricate floral design, highlighted with a few sparkling rhinestones. The skirt was folded many times to simulate a layered look. Every folded layer was accompanied by a garnish of light orange lace.

The dress was complemented by a fresh daffodil corsage on her wrist that Andrew had brought. Tiffany was also wearing a pair of yellow crescent crystals dangling from her ears, a small gold crucifix choker, and a hair clip with a gem encrusted flower design.

As ready as Tiffany was for prom, she was floored when Andrew had come to pick her up. In the right clothes and some touch-up on the hair, he had transformed from an old church friend to a handsome and dashing gentlemen. The corsage was icing on the metaphorical cake, and she had squealed with delight.

The trip to the rec center was short, and Tiffany wished she could have spent a little longer riding the cool car. They stopped in the parking lot, and Andrew politely, like a gentleman, asked if she was ready to go in. There was no reason to hold back a smile.

"Of course I'm ready. I already feel like dancing."

(continued from Earn Your Self-Confidence )

Raine looked out the window of Ridley's borrowed car and watched as students were being either dropped off at the prom or driving to the prom themselves. She saw several limousines and wondered what it would have been like to ride in one. The space might have been bigger than the car she was in right now, but the extra space might have made her dizzy and nauseous. She nervously lifted her arm and smelled the flower Ridley had given her as a corsage. The scent seemed to relax her and Raine took a deep breath.

"The prom...It feels like your being stripped down naked and being examined head to toe. People will look at how you dress, what car you came in, who you're with." Raine mused quietly. "I find I just...don't want to care anymore."

((Continued from Earn Your Self-Confidence))

Ridley parked the car in the parking lot and cringed at Raine's analysis. "Ugh, don't remind me," he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He listened to her words as he unbuckled his seat belt. "Yeah, I don't really want to care, either. I usually don't give a damn what people think about me, but it's still really hard to think that way. And since this is pretty much an event for normal students and what not, it's especially hard for me to meld in with everyone else." He was talking too much. Instead of continuing, he got out of the car, walked over to the other side, and opened the door for Raine. "But whatever, you know?"

Raine listened to Ridley's words as he walked around the car to open the door for her.

"But whatever, you know?"

Raine smiled softly and stepped out of the car. "Whatever, I know." She answered him with a cute grin. "If anyone decides to pick a fight with me tonight...I...I'll just stand firmly and tell them that they're not worth getting mad over. I just want to enjoy prom with you." Her voice trailed off into a whisper now.

Nodding happily, Bishop popped open the driver's-side door and stepped out of the sweet ride. Humming Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" to himself, he made his way around the back of the car to the passenger seat. Opening the door for her, he held out his hand to Tiffany. "Shall I escort you, milady?" he said playfully as he helped her out of the car. Closing the door behind her, he walked alongside her towards the entrance to the rec center, keeping his hand entwined with hers. Sticking his free hand holding the car keys into the air, he pressed down on the key once. A grin spread across his face as a light "chirp chirp!" echoed from the car as it locked up.

Oh yeah, you got the touch.

Pocketing the key, he took a deep, relaxing breath as they approached the open doors. Pop music bellowed out from the small entrance, showing that the party was already well on its way. "Here we go!" Bishop exclaimed with jubilation as he and Tiffany passed over the threshold and into the party.

"Well, it's best to stay hydrated, so we should get a drink."

A drink sounded better than a cookie, Celeste supposed. Hydration was more important at the moment, and she didn't want to think about how thirsty everyone would get at some point. So many bodies packed in one place, so many people dancing or talking a lot...God, she hoped they didn't run out of punch.

Celeste made her way to the table, holding John's sleeve between her fingers. It would be rude to go off without him, wouldn't it? "Punch looks good," she said, taking a little cup of it and sipping. Ooooh, and it was cherry-flavored. Celeste paused. Heh. Cherry-flavored. Kinda funny, in a weird way. Hey, here Celeste was drinking cherry punch, with the guy who "took her cherry."

Celeste then shook her head a bit. Okay, that totally sounded lame. She turned her attention back to her date, sampling a little cookie anyway--she was getting hungry. "Looks like it's sweets for dinner, eh?" she chuckled. Not that she minded that... "Not so bad, though. 's a night to cut loose."

...Well fuck.

"Eh, have fun."

His shoulders raised for a moment in a shrug as he turned from the apparent couple. First attempt was a failure; William was left rejected and still alone, with two drinks that he originally had no intention of really drinking, but hell, he had to do something with them as he walked away from the girl and her date, back to the snack tables. He downed them both as he walked, emptying the plastic cups before tossing them in the trash next to the table. Perhaps he should have stayed home, or gone out with friends instead of coming to the prom; he shook his head for a moment, trying to shake off the doubt in his mind as he scanned the dance floor.

Its the senior prom and I should be enjoying myself.

Which, at least at this point, didn't seem to be happening any time soon; He didn't exactly recognize anyone, and those few he could put a name to weren't exactly the closest of friends. For a moment, he just stood there, listening to the music and trying to make up his mind; Would he stay and try to enjoy himself, or would he leave and spend the night elsewhere?

"Heh, seems like I struck out."

He spoke up as he approached Everett again, the only person he recognized enough to put a name to and didn't seem to have much problem speaking with so far; if nothing else, he could at least try to get a new friend out of the time he spent here. Only problem he could see was that he didn't exactly know what Everett's interests were, nor did he really know how to carry the conversation in a direction where he could learn them without sounding a bit awkward.

Fuck it, might as well take a crack at it.

"How 'bout you? You been having any luck tonight?"

For the moment he awaited an answer, something struck William, something he probably should have thought about earlier; If he was barely able to draw up a name to match the face, what about Everett? Did he know William's name? Or would it be something that needed clarification. Either way, he wasn't about to risk seeming a bit too weird or spurring awkwardness between the two; speaking with Everett and appearing to know his name yet not offering up his own.

"Oh, right, I'm William. And hopefully I didn't mess up with your name."

First impressions were certainly not William's strong point; nervousness over the evening and speaking with someone he barely knew forced his voice and his thoughts, and it all became a mess. No, first impressions were definitely not his forte.

"Punch looks good," Celeste said, taking a cup and sipping. John followed her lead, tasting it. Not as tasty as the last cherry he 'tasted'... He bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from grinning. He was certain Celeste hadn't told anyone about their day together, so he certainly wasn't going to bring it up in a packed Prom hall.

"Looks like it's sweets for dinner, eh? Not so bad, though. 's a night to cut loose."

"Yeah." John nodded, picking up a cookie too. "Throw caution to the wind and all that."

If they hadn't already been together in bed, he might have blushed at that. It could be taken to mean sex, after all. He wondered how many of the people gathered here tonight would be seeing each other naked - or just screwing fully-clothed behind the gym... He hoped to see Celeste naked tonight: But where would they go?

He mentally shook his head. Time for that later. He should stop thinking about it.

"I've been thinking a lot about you." he tells her. If the image of her on his phone was a polaroid, it would be ruined by now.

Everett had just finished his snack when William got back. He explained that he'd had no luck, then asked about Everett.

"Heh, no. No luck at all," Everett said. "Not that I've really actually tried. I don't know... I mean, I don't really have much luck with girls."

Then William introduced himself. That brought Everett's respect for him up a notch. It was pretty rare for people their age to go out of their way to spare each other awkwardness. Everett appreciated William's effort, even if it was unecessary.

"Nope, you got it right," he said with a smile. "I'm sorry that didn't turn out for you. There's gotta be other opportunities, though. I mean, I can't imagine why you'd have any trouble finding a girl to dance with."

Unlike me, Everett added silently. He didn't need to share his own doubts, though. There was no point throwing a pity party for himself.

Then he noticed that William had two empty glasses in his hand, which made him turn to the dark red, almost wine-colored punch that on the snack table. He poured himself a glass, then turned to William and said, "Care for a refill?"