Prom was on Friday.

Justine had made all of the prom preparations, reserving us what she referred to as "the metal van," which would take us out for dinner and then to prom and then the after party, playing whatever music we wanted, as long as it was metal or a close cousin of metal. All of my best friends, minus Valerie, were in it with me: Alex and Justine, Eric, Dylan, Benny, and Adree. Even Sharkbite and his date came with us.

The van looked like what you would call a legit raper van: white and creepy, the kind of vehicle that sends the message to run away. But Justine told us we should get in anyways, because "a life lived on the edge is a life worth living." And we came to realize she knew the driver, who was this totally awesome college guy named Boston with long messy hair and a love for thrash metal and a need to make a few extra bucks. He wore a Rust In Peace shirt, and I knew we had no reason to be afraid of getting in the van.

Besides, next to that beat-up van, the rest of us looked like we belonged on the red carpet.

Mom had gone with me to buy a tight black pantsuit with a dark gray button up shirt to wear under the blazer. When Alex saw me in it, he said, "You look seriously hot! Kind of girly compared to usual..." which I guess he wasn't expecting, since I'd been planning to wear an oh-so-masculine pantsuit. I had picked out a more form-fitting one, which showed off more of my hardly-curves. Why had I done that? Not sure. But I was feeling comfortably feminine. I felt sexy.

And I looked even sexier alongside my sexy date. Adree was wearing a form-fitting dark red dress that was more than two inches above the knee, except for those few seconds after she pulled it down to give it the appearance of being "two inches above the knee." The top half was long-sleeved and made out of this pretty lace that came almost to her fingers, and she had matching fingernails. I couldn't believe I'd ever proclaimed that nail polish sucked. Justine took a picture of us from behind, and I grabbed Adree's butt and she grabbed mine with her long red nails. I put it on Instagram instantly, which is something I didn't often do, despite the fact that instant documentation was the purpose of Instagram.

Justine wore a vampirish black dress with a studded collar, and she'd gotten Alex a studded black tie with his all-black suit. Justine's dress might not have met Runsberger's "traditional bra line" rule on the back, but she wore a fishnet shirt underneath to compensate. So technically, her shirt had a back. "Very tricky," I told her.

Dylan and his date both wore traditional black and white suits with brightly colored neck ties and brightly colored shoes, and both of them were wearing guyliner, which would probably make Runsberger cringe. Dylan's shoes, of course, were lime green, and his nails matched.

Eric wore baggy dress pants and a button up forest green dress shirt, which wasn't tucked in, which slayed. I told him that if Runsberger tried to tell him that non-tucked-in shirts were "un-formal" that he should call me over to mediate. Trish wore a strapless purple prom dress that went down to the floor, along with Eric's hand on her backside.

Benny, to surprise us all, wore a dress. "What?" he asked when he saw our faces of shock. "Adree encouraged us to. I'm not gonna pass up the chance to wear a dress to prom after all the hard work you put into changing the dress code."

"It was my idea," Sydney beamed, wearing a matching dress; bright red and spaghetti strapped. That was when I remembered their giddy conversation, the one I'd thought was a joke.

"Guys, we got pedicures before this," Benny chimed in, "And they were so relaxing. I don't know why dudes aren't encouraged to get them. Some lady massaged my legs for like twenty minutes straight."

"Really?" said Sharkbute, intrigued at this prospect. He had surprised us by wearing a dress, too, although he and his date weren't matching, and Sharkbite wasn't wearing heels like Benny, which was good, because Benny had already complained about his feet hurting.

"Wow, Sharkbite, for being one of the worst masculinity police I know, you look pretty feminine."

"I couldn't miss the chance to piss Runsberger off," he said. "Lots of guys are planning to."

"What the efff, guys?" Alex screamed at them. "You coulda told me!"

At the Italian restaurant, Adree kept stealing every opportunity to brush her bare ankle against my pants. I kind of wished I wasn't wearing a pantsuit, so we could have some skin-on-skin contact.

Finally, we got to prom, and I couldn't believe my eyes: multiple boys wore dresses (I quickly spotted seven) and multiple girls wore pantsuits (I quickly spotted nine).

Valerie came up to us in a white pantsuit with a satin lavender blouse underneath, telling us, "You both inspired me to embrace my masculine side and my feminine side. Besides, that rule about the ribbon was totally unfair. I'd rather go against tradition than follow that rule. My dream prom dress had a deep V cut that went down my back. I guess I'll save it for another occasion, like a company Christmas party or something."

Chad came up to us, and I saw he was wearing a matching lavender tie. Dennis followed, taking one look at Chad's tie and saying, "Woah, bro, you look totally gay."

Chad surprised me by saying, "Is that a bad thing?"

Dennis rolled his eyes before his gaze settled on Benny in a dress. "But Benny, you take the cake for looking like a pussy. Did Mommy pick out your dress?"

Then, Benny surprised all of us by saying, "My mom didn't force me to quit the team, Dennis. I made the personal choice to evade more brain damage."

Chad slapped him on the back. "Understandable, dude. Totally understandable. Dennis just misses you. Our defense isn't nearly as good without you."

"Wait a second," Dennis said. "That sounded way homo. I don't miss him."

"I don't miss you either, Dennis," said Benny, slapping him in the back.

"Dude, touch me again in that dress of yours..." Dennis said back, clenching his knuckles.

"Can't you chill, bro?" Chad said. "We're all just trying to have a good time."

"Seriously," said Valerie. "If you can't play nice, then leave."

Dennis glared at Valerie before saying, "Chad, you are totally fucking pussy-whipped, you know that? Bros before hos, dude."

"If you really believed in bros before hos, you wouldn't be trying to get with my girlfriend all the time."

Dennis glared at Valerie even more here. "It's a fucking joke. Really, I just can't help going for chicks when they make it so clear that they want me." He looked at Adree and bit his lip.

Chad and Valerie both rolled their eyes.

"I don't think as many girls want you as you think want you," Adree told Dennis, and he whipped his neck to the left to look at her. She finished by saying, "Me and Valerie included."

"Don't lie to yourself," Dennis told her. "Don't think I don't remember the two of you fighting over me." He grabbed the crotch of his suit here, saying, "You both want the d—"

To the surprise of us all, Adree whacked him in the face, and to top it off, she said, "Girls hit too, asshole."

He held his cheek with his left hand, then started clenching his right fist, but the rest of us, including muscular Valerie and Chad, made it clear we would obstruct any retaliation effort. So he straightened up and walked away.

"Adree!" I said, surprised and amused.

"Sorry. Pent up anger."

Valerie's smile was wider than I'd ever seen it. "I wish I had done that. Way to go Adree!" The two of them high-fived.

Then, I hugged Adree.

After we calmed ourselves down, Adree and I made our way into the crowd. The music in the gym was awful compared to how it had been in the metal van; the DJ they hired was playing all pop music. And I felt like an idiot dancing next to an actual dancer. But Adree and I had found our rhythm a couple weeks before, and that mattered.

It turned into a slow song, and I took her hips while she put her arms over my shoulders. Sometimes, following the script worked out. Especially in situations like this, situations I wasn't used to.

"Dallas, is that mascara you're wearing?" she asked me, after we'd been looking into each other's eyes.

"Yes. And foundation, too. I figured prom was an acceptable break from your challenge. I wanted to look nice."

"You always look nice, Dallas."

"You always look nice. I like the fire-engine red in your hair."

She smiled and bowed her head in thanks. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think that you tried to let go of your femininity, and you learned that you want to keep holding on to some of it."

"Well I think that you've learned to embrace some of your own masculinity."

"I do like doing things like this," she said, and then without any other warning, she dipped me backwards, as dancing partners do. "Put your head back so you don't look so stiff!"

"I feel like a noob," I laughed, trying to relax, trusting she wouldn't let go. "Let me dip you."

We took turns dipping each other, having no care for any of the looks we received from our peers.

When we finished dancing, we walked over to the prom royalty voting booths. "Let's both vote for Valerie," Adree said.

"You sure?" I asked her. "Aren't you excited to be a nominee?"

She shook her head. "High school is ending, and all this stuff we once thought was so important just...won't be important anymore. What will be important is the stuff we learned and the friendships we forged. So let's vote for Valerie, because she's proven to be a good friend, wouldn't you say?"

"I would say! Also, Chad has proven to be far more worthy than I would've ever thought was possible. I'm gonna vote for him, too." 

Adree nodded in agreement, and we filled out our votes.