Prom Night

Mom smooths the prom gown across the bed and helps her daughter slip out of everyday clothes. Julie moves slow, shy as hell, until the zipper slides up her back and the mirror shows the finished look. Mom tells her she’s beautiful. Julie hides behind her glasses and swears nobody at school would ever ask her out, especially not the most popular guy. Mom takes the glasses off and says he asked because she’s an 18-year-old angel any boy would kill for. Julie gives the mirror one long stare and cracks the smallest smile. A knock. Justin stands in the doorway in his suit, corsage in hand. He kisses her knuckles, slips the flowers on her wrist, and leads her to the town car. In back, he talks big—senior year, football, his kegger—while Julie sits wide-eyed. He catches her staring and asks if she’s surprised he picked her. She nods. He says he always thought she was the cute, quiet type the guys couldn’t stop talking about. She blushes, sure he’s lying. He asks for a kiss. She lets him. His hand lands on her thigh; she glances down but doesn’t move it. He says she kisses like a champ and wants more. She whispers she likes him too. He grins, says he bets she can do more than kiss, and asks if she’ll show him if they pull over. She smiles and says yes. Headlights cut across a dirt clearing. A half-circle of cars and a line of guys in suits wait. Justin pulls Julie into the light and tells the crew she’s about to fuck every last one of them before prom starts. Julie yanks him aside, voice tight—he promised it would be just them. Justin’s tone hardens: if she wants him, she has to be nice to the boys who like her just as much. That’s why he asked her out—he knew she’d be down. The guys edge in, sweet-talking, daring her to loosen up. Julie’s desperate to look cool for Justin, so she swallows hard, nods, and gives in.