Starlet's Web - #1 {Exclusive Read}

Starlet's Web - March - SENIOR PROM

~    SENIOR PROM

We met up with everyone we ditched on the limo ride at the restaurant. We laughed a ton and reminisced. I even ate dessert. Manuel held my hand on the drive to the dance and told me the gossip about all our friends there. I was surprised that so much sex was going on amongst my classmates, and Manuel roared with laughter each time I was surprised by some scandal.

As we were driving I realized that Hollywood’s casual sex expectation conflicted with my family’s abstinence message, leaving me completely stressed out. I was torn between opposite cultural values. Fortunately, Manuel was, too.

He interrupted my thoughts. “Hey, you’re miles away. ¿Cómo estás?”

“Sorry,” I said as we arrived at the Getty Villa and museum off of the Pacific Coast Highway and parked.

I wasn’t sure if Manuel asked me if I was okay in English or Spanish. He always mixed his languages, like his dad. Manuel’s grandpa was the son of a German academic who fled to Argentina with his Jewish wife during the Nazi era.

I was surprised when I was five years old that his grandpa didn’t look at all like what I thought he was supposed to look like. His grandpa was handsome, a tall, fit man over 6’3” with sandy-brown hair and light brown eyes. My stereotype was shattered, the first time of many. I expected him to look like Ira when I heard that he was Jewish, not some tall, handsome white guy who resembled a professional basketball player.

“Wow. That’s a pretty view,” Manuel said as we both got out of the car.

The Getty was like a castle on the bluff above the PCH, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. To the south, I saw past the Los Angeles airport. To the north, I saw past Malibu.  The large, round orange sun was low on the horizon to the west, casting a yellow orange glow on the water and streaking the thin clouds with purples, reds, and orange colors. It was breathtaking.

“Yeah, it is pretty.” I marveled and paused while I took it in. “This has been such a fun night!” I exclaimed. “And you know how I love the ocean.”

“And you know that I love you and have since I can remember,” Manuel said as he slowly took my hand and gazed into my eyes.

“And you know that I love you. You’re my best friend.”

I pulled him towards me and pressed my lips to his. It was a slow movement at first, but then energy surged from him and he kissed me passionately, pressing his body against mine, which was pressed against the Porsche. Both of his strong arms were around me with his hands between the car and my lower back. It was nice. It was comfortable. I was happy and loved. I didn’t feel a desire to make love. But I could kiss him all night, and we would have a great prom.

We slowly parted and started walking towards the Getty, still holding hands.

Mom urged me to self-reflect and make sure I was ready—put my needs first. We role-played speaking up, saying no, telling Manuel my feelings. But making him happy was one of my needs. He was everything to me. I wanted to give him a great prom because he deserved to have a wonderful time. We both did.