When it Rains, it Pours

When it Rains, it Pours

Vandelay High’s junior class refused to let a stormy day ruin their prom. If dreary weather were a viable excuse as a deterrent, nothing would ever get one in their small town. Barkersville always seemed to have some sort of overcast or rain. Even in the harsh summer months the sun scarcely makes herself present. The John F. Kennedy banquet hall had been rented out by Vandelay High for the evening’s festivities. Almost the entire junior class showed up, dolled up and dressed in overpriced suits and dresses that would only see use for the evening. From Mr. and Mrs. Popularity to the dorks and dweebs.

 One such student falling into the category of the latter, Miley Millerson, stood oafishly by the refreshments table. The girl leaned forward awkwardly to grab some drinks. Even without the extra inches provided by her pumps, she was already taller than most of the guys in her school. Currently, she was grabbing drinks for herself and her date, one Michael Eurtur. Miley nearly tripped over her classmate and fellow resident dork, Dennis Vackermann, who came up from behind silently. 

“O-Oh!”

Miley stammered out as she glanced down at the shorter male.

“What’s up, Dennis? Who’re you here with?”

Dennis ran a hand through his dark greasy hair. It always seemed to be stuck to his forehead in an M shape, no matter what he did to it.

“No one…”

He murmured, hardly audible over the bassy dance music.

“I already had the suit and just decided to come out.”

He further explained. Dennis’ parents refused to let him stay home, wanting him to ‘make memories’ and whatnot, so they treated him to the tux and tickets. Not like he had anything better to do, anyway, so he obliged them.

“How’s Mr. Captain of the football team-”

He began before Miley quickly interjected,

“He’s head of the swim team, and actually he’s very sweet.”

She said matter-of-factly, crossing her lanky arms underneath the bumps on her chest.

Miley had been tutoring Michael for a few months, and when he offered to take her to the prom, she simply couldn't refuse.

Before Dennis could respond, Michael’s strong, commanding voice rang out as he walked up behind them.

Yo, babe. What took you so long? I got worried you got lost.”

The young athlete joked, causally shoving past the shorter, chubbier boy. 

Miley frowned, feeling for her friend and uncomfortably chuckling at the dirty blonde’s joke and behavior. Michael was like a living Ken doll, almost too good to be true for her.

“Sorry.”

Miley said indirectly while passing him a red solo cup.

“I was just talking to Dennis. He-”

“Was just leaving.”

Micheal interrupts, shooting a side glare over at Dennis. Dennis obliged, waddling away in defeat. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight. Miley frowned a bit as Michael took a sip of his drink.

“You didn't have to do that…”

She said softly.

“Of course I did. I can't have that dork hovering around my girl.”

He insisted possessively.

“Now drink up, I wanna show you off on the dancefloor.”

The jock boasted, making Miley blush as both took a swing.

Miley made a face of disgust, forcing herself to swallow the dink.

“It tastes…a little funny. What flavor is it?”

“Oh, it’s fruit punch mixed with Vodka.”

Mike casually replied as they made their way to the dance food. The young couple found a spot in the center, and before Miley could protest it, they were off. Mike’s arms were gently draped over her board shoulders. They swayed softly to the rhythm of the music. Miley had a dorky grin on display, her olive eyes shimmering as she stared at the young man before her. She was maybe a hair taller than him, but that was because of her pumps, for once, and not her God-given unnaturally long legs. His soft blue eyes pierced her soul, wavy blonde hair kept her entangled in this moment. Suddenly, she found herself twirled and felt like a Disney princess. She didn’t feel awkward or out of place, for once in her life. But before long, she’d feel a lot more like Carrie…

Mikey let her loose, sending her sprawling onto her butt. Before she could stand, an egg hit her hard in the back of the head. She recoiled, leaning forward and shielding the back of her head in confusion. Laughter erupted in the hall, drowning out the teen’s music. A volley of eggs came her way, from all sides. Along with the assault came a bombardment of insults. Hundreds of voices making fun of her all at once, barely audible, scrutinizing every inch of her, from the dead ends of her hair to the puke olive green color of her eyes and matching dress, to how she’s too tall and lanky. Any issue Miley ever had with her body was vocalized by the cruel crowd assaulting her. Miley finally manages to her feet and scrambles towards the double doors of the hall. She tried in vain to shield her yolk-soaked bruised body but to no avail. 

Dennis watched the event in horror, slackjawed and stupefied. He scurried away after her. 

Miley sat on the steps of the hall outside, her hands covering her face as she gently wept. The rain finally broke in the form of a drizzle, as to be expected, and the winds gently blew the rain towards her. Dennis slipped off the wide tux jacket he was sporting and gently draped it over her shoulders from behind. Miley sniffled, looking over her shoulder with a light smile. Her makeup had been running, leaving her eyes looking like raccoon’s with two trails of black racing down her cheeks to her chin.

“I’m sorry they did that to you…”

Dennis said softly.

Miley wiped her Mascara and tear-soaked face off on her borrowed jacket’s sleeve, ignoring the BO stench in the jacket.

“As cliched and stupid as it is, I really should have known all of it was too good to be true…”

She hummed pessimistically, thunder rumbling after her words. A small crack of lightning split the clouds in a purple-white glow for a moment.

Dennis shook his head in response.”Hey, you’re as entitled to a good time as any of those jerks are.”

Dennis protested.

Miley nodded.

“You’re right. And for a moment, I really did have a good time. I at least got to dance…”

Dennis smiled a bit.

“If all you wanted out of tonight was a dance, then you should have just asked me. And I promise when it’s over, I won't throw eggs at you.”

Miley pouted and gently slapped Dennis’ shoulder with her massive, meaty hand. Dennis laughs a bit.

“I’m serious. Let's do it. Here. Now. Us. Together.”

He held his hand out to her.

Miley paused for a moment, before obliging him and taking his sweaty hand in hers. The two walked down the few steps into the parking lot, as the rain began to come down a little harder than before. Dennis played some music on his phone and set it on the hood of someone’s car. Given his vertical challenge, he simply loosely put his hands on Miley’s flat hips. Mile smiled a bit and draped her long arms over his shoulders. The two danced, holding one another and smiling. The rain washed away Dennis’ nervous sweat and whatever yolk remained on Miley. While both would come down with a cold from this, this was, without a doubt, a night like none other for either one.