Brandon

I am nervous as hell. It's Prom night, not just any ordinary prom night here in Atherton. Denver and I are getting ready at mine, and my stomach is in knots, and I actually feel a bit sick, to be honest. Me, the hard man of the football field, the man of ice that nothing fazes, I am actually nervous.

Going with Lizzie is making me have palpitations. Weird, right? Considering we've gone to parties together, slept in the same bed together. My hands are shaky, and my palms are sweating.

"Are you getting dressed or just checking yourself out in that mirror?" I'm standing here in my black pressed pants; my top half is naked. "And have you even got any room left on your torso with all that ink on you already? Is that new?" Denver asks as he moves towards me, looking very handsome in his tux.

He is wearing the same as me, a black tux; only his cummerbund is bright yellow and the rose in his lapel matches. For sure, Lilly is going to be wearing a yellow dress.

"It's Latin, says Forever and Always," I tell him.

"It's neat. I like it. Say, is that yours and Lizzie's saying?" I nod. It has been since we were kids.

"Are you nervous?" He asks me. Man, he looks so damn handsome and broad in his tux.

"Yeah. I guess. I mean, what if she doesn't feel the same way? I'm going to feel like such a jerk, like a real prize prick." I rake my hands through my jet-black hair, which I've allowed to grow longer. The front flops in my eyes, but Lizzie told me the other day it suited me, and yeah – I kept it like this.

"Listen, I think she feels the same way about you. It's obvious that girl is one-hundred percent in love with you." Denver sits on the edge of my bed, resting his long and massive arms on his knees. His green eyes bore into me.

"Stop looking at me like that. Besides, how do you know she likes me like that?" Shit, I am freaking out. Should I even let her know tonight? Only if I don't, I never will. Then she'll head out to Texas to Uni, and I'll be. I don't want to think about it. I'm freaked out enough as it is, without putting myself through more torture and thinking about Lizzie dating other guys. Especially jocks, she'll be surrounded by them. I think I'm going to be sick.

"It's obvious, man. You have to be dumb not to see it. Lilly and I can tell. The way she looks at you with that dreamy look in her eyes, the way they dilate when she is close to you." Can I believe what Denver is saying? Should I believe him?

"What if I fuck it up? What if I ruin our perfect friendship? She's my bestie, and I don't want to lose that. It'd kill me. The way I feel for her right now, man, I don't think I could breathe without her in my life."

Denver stands up and comes and puts his hands on my broad shoulders. "You're not going to fuck this up. What's the worst that can happen? She's going to be a bit shocked and tell you you're being silly and that she just wants to be friends. God, you two have known each other for fifteen years; she's not going to run out on you and never talk to you again. You gotta chill, Man." Easier said than done when my stomach is running riot and I feel nauseous.

"Here. Put your damn shirt on, or you'll be late picking her up, and that will rile her for sure. You know she can get a bit feisty." Denver is right; Lizzie can go off the end when she's mad, and I sure don't want to fuck anything up tonight. It means too much to me.

Fuck I am so nervous.

I take the crisp white shirt from him and put my arms through the sleeves. I button it up, grab my tux jacket, and sling it on. "What color corsage did you buy her?" Denver asks, checking me out. "You're looking good, Brandon. Those girls are gonna want to scratch Lizzie's eyes out." He smirks and chuckles.

"There's no way I'm letting anyone say anything mean to my girl." My girl. It sounds good; I like it. Shit, I hope Lizzie wants this as much as I do. I love the way it sounds to say my girl on my tongue, forming those words with my mouth.

"I got her a single deep, red velvet rose. My mom said that if in doubt, go with that. All girls love them." He nods, picks up his mobile from the bed, and slips it into his jacket pocket.

"We ready?" He asks. I don't personally think I'm ever going to be ready. Taking Lizzie to prom is major; it's special; it's the highlight of our school years. It's the final event of our high school years. It has to be perfect for her. I have to be perfect for her. I have a quick talk to myself about how I need to stay calm if some dude approaches her and not go and kick the living shit out of him. My job is to make sure that my Lizzie-Baby has fun tonight.

"Let's do it," I say and pick the corsage up from my bedside table. Brandon holds Lilly's yellow rose in a small plastic box.

"You nervous?" I ask him.

"Always. Being with Lilly kinda makes me nervous. She's so damn beautiful she takes my breath away, and smart, funny, kind. She makes me want to be a better man."

I slap Denver on the back and open the bedroom door. We're ready to head on down where I know for sure my folks will be waiting to take their pictures.

"You've got this, Brandon," Denver says. I don't feel like I have. My heart is in my mouth; it's beating so damn fast I think it's going to throw itself out of my body and start crawling around on the floor of its own free will. Being in love with a girl sure gives you some weird feelings and sensations, especially when the girl you love has no idea how you feel. And is your best friend. I'm practically killing myself here with such a conflict of emotions.

"Oh my. You both look so handsome." Mom is waiting at the bottom of the stairs with her Nikon camera ready. Dad stands next to her with his hands in his pockets.

"Son, you make me so proud. You polish up well." He says in his deep voice. Denver and I smile. Yeah, I guess we do polish up well. We both appear so grown up, yet deep inside I still feel like that kid who used to run around outside tearing around with Lizzie, running up into our tree house Dad built, biking up and down the street, playing hide and seek.

"Come on then, let's get some pictures snapped." Mom is over-excited like a puppy dog. She's so adorable. Did I already tell you just how much I love my mom? She's the best.

Denver and I stand close together; he slings his muscular arm around my shoulders, and Mom snaps away like a possessed photographer.

"I think it's time to let them get on, honey," Dad says. Mom isn't done, though, and keeps taking photos of the two of us together.

"Just a couple on your own, Brandon. Denver, I'll take some of you on your own too and send them over to your mom."

"Sure thing." He says and steps aside so my mom can take more goddamn photos; isn't she done already? I don't want to be late for my girl.