Weston stopped dancing and stared straight over my head, probably at nothing.
“Weston,” I warned, “don’t let him ruin it. That’s all he’s trying to do.”
He took a deep breath and then sidestepped, dancing again.
Brady looked behind him and nodded to his group of friends. Micah and Brendan were standing there with Tyson and Andrew. Tyson was the only one who didn’t look particularly amused with the scene Brady was trying to make.
Brady turned back to us. “You gonna tap Erin’s ass tonight the way you did Alder last year? In the back of your truck?”
I froze.
Brady began to laugh. “He already has, hasn’t he? What, Erin? Did you think it was something he did just with you?”
“Where’s your date, Brady?” Weston seethed.
By this point, everyone around us was watching, still dancing but coming closer to see and hear better.
“Unlike you, I have standards. And the only two girls worth bringing passed away a little while ago. You remember them, don’t you? Your friends since childhood? Your girlfriend? The girl you said you were going to marry?”
My expression betrayed me, and Brady’s eyes brightened with satisfaction.
“Did he give you the we’re-going-to-get-married-someday speech, too? Figures. He throws that around about as easily as I love you.”
Just as the song ended, Weston turned to face Brady.
Brian walked over, keeping one of his broad shoulders between the two enemies. “C’mon, guys. It’s prom. Let’s keep it civil.”
Weston took a step and leaned in, just inches from Brady’s face. “If you try to ruin this night for her, you have my word that your parents will have to buy that tux once I’m through with you.”
“Yes, because a couple hundred bucks will be such a hardship,” Brady scoffed.
Weston took my hand and led me back to the table. I stood next to Weston while he took a gulp of his ice water.
Brian followed. “Don’t worry about it, man.”
Weston set down his cup. “He’s just trying to detract from the fact that he showed up here alone.”
I turned and felt liquid explode against my skin, from my mouth to my waist. Brady was holding an empty cup. The red punch that had been inside was now dripping from my chin and dress. His eyes bulged wide as I held my hands out to my sides.
Weston charged toward Brady, but I pushed my hand out, holding it against his chest. “Weston, it was an accident!”
Brady’s expression morphed from shock to smug satisfaction. “It wasn’t shit soup, but I’m sure Alder would have been just as happy.”
He pulled another cup from behind his back and began to pour it over my head, but Weston tackled him to the floor.
“No! Weston, stop!” I said, red liquid dripping from my hairline.
Chaperones rushed from every dark corner of the room, and what had once been just Weston and Brady scuffling became a large ball of body parts jerking, grabbing, and reaching.
Coach Morris finally made it to the middle and pulled everyone apart. He held both young men by their collars. “What the hell’s gotten into you, Weston?” he said, barely acknowledging Brady.
“Look at her!” Weston said, his eyes wild.
He pointed to me, and Coach Morris blinked when he saw that I was covered in punch.
“Did you do that, Beck?” Coach Morris asked, jerking Brady by the collar.
Brady’s mouth was bleeding, and both of his eyes were already beginning to swell.
“It was an accident! She turned right into me!” he whined.
“Is that how it got in her hair?” Coach asked, his cheeks flushing with anger.
Weston was turned loose while Coach yanked Brady to the entrance. Light from the streetlamps outside briefly lit up the indoor area when the door opened before it closed again.
Coach Morris came back empty-handed and pointed at Weston. “Sorry, Gates. You, too. But I want you to wait until he’s cleared the parking lot.”
Weston’s expression turned severe. “I promised her I wouldn’t let Brady get away with anything like that. Look at her!”
“Weston,” I said, touching his arm.
“Look at her!” he screamed again.
Coach’s eyes turned sad. He pulled a stack of napkins off the closest table and handed them to me. “I’m really sorry, Erin. You still look lovely.”
“Maybe she smells better,” Janelle mumbled.
Weston opened his mouth to defend me, but Coach Morris held up his hand.
He pointed to Janelle. “You. Out.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“Get your things and go. Anyone else want their night ruined?”
The crowd dispersed, and Janelle picked up her clutch, her eyes glossing over.
She waited for Brian. “Let’s go!” Her voice broke as she stamped her foot.
Brian shook his head. “Too bad you weren’t nicer to Erin. Weston might have given you a ride.”
“Brian!” she whined.
Brian patted Weston on the shoulder. “I would have done the same. Sorry y’all have to leave.”
Weston nodded, and then Brian walked to the other side of the room.
Janelle spun around and stomped to the exit, holding her cell phone to her ear.
“I’m…” Weston began, but he couldn’t finish. He was too upset.
Coach Morris motioned to us. “Okay, Gates. He should be gone by now. I’m going to walk you out. I’m sorry, Erin.”
I shook my head, my skin feeling stickier by the second. Embarrassment hadn’t come, and I wondered if it would. I was more worried about Weston than me. He’d been looking forward to prom for so long, and now, we had to leave.
We held hands as we walked to the limo, and although the driver seemed shocked to see the mess Brady had made of my dress, he didn’t comment.
Weston tightly held my hand without saying a word until we walked through my front door.
“Don’t tell them,” I said before running up the stairs.
I could hear Julianne’s and Sam’s muffled voices mixing with Weston’s before I shut the door to my room and stripped off my dress. I nicely laid it on the bed and then kicked off my heels before rushing to the shower.
“Erin?” Julianne called from the hall.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” I said back as cheerfully as I could muster.