Graveyard Prom

Prom. It’s supposed to be the most magical time of high school, right? Well, not if you’re Travis.

I’ll never forget that night. My dress, pale peach lace, dragged over the new spring grass. The moon had barely risen, and I shivered in the stiff breeze.

“Won’t you at least lend me your jacket,” I sighed.

Without looking back at me, Travis shrugged out of his dove gray suit coat. “Here,” he muttered.

“Thanks, I guess.” The cuffs dragged down, covering my hands.

We wandered through the graveyard as his long slender fingers turned blue with the cold. One hand gripped his guitar case.

Mutely, I offered him my hand, but he refused. It was like I wasn’t even there. All of a sudden, he stopped.

“This is it,” he choked. “She’s right here. I wish she could’ve met you.”

Slowly, he unpinned the rose from the jacket I still wore. Startled, I jumped when his frozen fingers touched my wrist, slipping the ribbon from my corsage over my fingertips. He laid the flowers on a headstone, buried in the earth. They nestled next to a bunch of dried flowers already in place.

Travis silently folded his angular frame into a full lotus and unclasped the guitar latches. Pachelbel’s Canon in D filled the night air.

I just stood there, watching his copper hair gleam in the moonlight. This is crazy, I thought. Just because the graveyard is across the street from the dance doesn’t mean we have to stop there now. We’d been dating for a few months now, and he’d never showed any interest in visiting his mother’s grave before. All my friends thought I was crazy for dating Travis, and right now, I had my doubts.

But they didn’t know his serious side. Just because he didn’t do well at school and I was a straight A student was no reason not to date him. 

Suddenly, the music stopped. Tears sparkled on his freckled cheeks as he unfolded. “Time to go–got to get us home before curfew,” he whispered.


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