Prom Date

It started with a flyer, posted up on the school's bulletin board. Prom was coming up, the magically pageant event in which all the seniors get to pay an extremely high price to simply come to school all dressed up and dance. I don't understand the point, if people wanted to go dress up and dance, there were places in town they could go for a much cheaper cover charge.

What made the prom a special event this year at my high school was that a former student was going to make a special appearance. Emma Copper, the beautiful girl from the Pulp Friction movies, the once that actually closed her mouth.

I know this because I am a fan. What can I say, the girl is fucking hot. Prom might be worth going if it meant a chance to just say hi to her.

There was other news on the flyer announcing her cameo. Apparently she was going to perform a couple of songs at the prom and wanted a student from the school to play guitar for her. This was like a sign from the heavens that I was meant to meet her. I had been playing guitar since I was little and I would shoot myself if I didn't audition at very least.

The auditions were to be held during lunch break in the gym, where they had already set the stage for the prom a week in advance. There were only five other students, all guys, there to audition with their guitars. The principal was over seeing the audition standing on the floor watching the stage. He lined us all up on stage so that he could explain the rules and how it would work.

"Now I'm not a judge of musical talent, it isn't my area of expertise. So I figured that there wouldn't be a better judge on who should play guitar for Emma Copper at prom this year is...well...Emma herself." He turned toward the far doors of the gym as they opened and would you believe Emma in all her casual beauty came strolling over to us.

"Hey guys." She said, with a smile and a wave.

I think we were all in shock cause none of us responded.

Emma looked at the principal, "They can talk right Mr. Ryans?"

Mr Ryans nodded, "At least four of them can I assure you."

Oh ha ha, mister Dick. I thought in my head.

"Good to meet you Emma." I said.

She glanced at me and smiled, "There we go. What's your name?"

"I'm John." I replied.

She nodded and clapped her hands. "Alright guys, let's get this show rolling."

We left the stage and got in a line. I was going to be the fourth player up and I needed to pay close attention to what she liked and didn't about everyone's playing. The first player up was Mathew Shabe, a guy that some people on campus called the dirty hippie. He had blonde dreads and smelt like dirt and ass every single day. On stage he strummed is acoustic guitar in random chords and sang nonsense.

Emma stopped him after a minute and asked, "Do you know any real songs? I'm sorry that was mean," she chuckled, "I mean can you play like covers. Because that's all this is for, you don't have to try to be original."

Mathew replied with some hippie shit about not believing in playing covers because everyone is an original and should embrace it or something like that.

"Great well thank you then."

Next up was Derick Louder, a Gothic metal head to the bone. He plugged his guitar into the amp on stage and started shredding his balls off. He really could play. His technique was solid, but after a while of blaring notes it all started to run together with no direction or real purpose.

Again Emma asked, "Flashy, can you play covers?"

Derick said, "That was a cover. You never heard of Mechinoid Slaughter."

I swear I think Emma's eye twitched, "Can't say I have." God bless her she was trying to be nice.

The next two guys heard the question Emma had kept asking and they played covers. One guy played "Sweet Child of Mine" in the wrong key. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard and cats getting murdered at the same time. The other guy played a Metallica song, and did a pretty decent job but it wasn't in Emma's vocal range.

Finally it was my turn and I walked out shifting my guitar strap. I plugged into the amp and started playing "Hit me With Your Best Shot". I saw a smirk cross Emma's lips as I played the opening rift. She moved closer to the stage, looking up at me, watching me, listening. When I got to the verse she sang along. I smiled and nodded, it became a song we were playing together. She sang and I played. After the verse was over she climbed up on stage and moved next to me to dance, her hips bumping against me. Then she began to wail the song as I hit the chorus chords.

After the song was over she cheered and clapped. "That's it. Oh that is definitely it!" She said laughing.

I was on a cloud the whole day. After my audition, the final guy didn't even bother to try and I had the gig in the bag. After school I head home, my guitar bag slung over my back, the heat of the day already making me sweat my ass off. I really needed to get a car. I turned a corner about four blocks from school and stopped short as I saw Emma Copper leaning against a telephone poll with her arms crossed.

"Hey stranger." She said raising her eyebrow. "What's my guitar player doing walking in the heat?"

I shrugged, "I thought I would give walking on the surface of the sun a try."

She laughed and gestured to a black Lexus Sedan parked at the curb. "Come on I'll give you a ride. Besides we need to figure out what songs we're going play at the big prom." She opened the passenger door and clicked her tongue, "Come on stop looking at me like I'm imaginary, get in the car."

I blinked and realized that I haven't blinked since I first saw her standing there. My eyes were dry and sore. I got into the car and slipped my guitar into the backseat. Emma plopped herself into the driver's seat, which caused her breasts to give a hardy bounce. Not that I was watching....I was totally watching.

She glanced my way, and I jerked my eyes away quickly. "See something you like?" She asked.

I shook my head, "I see nothing."

Emma laughed, "I doubt that." She pulled away from the curb and off we went. "So I was thinking we should do three songs for prom. You know, not too long, but also not to short to feel like they got jipped."

I nodded, "That makes sense. Though they should feel fucking honored that you are even there, let alone singing for anyone."

She looked at me.

I blushed, "Do you not like cussing? I'm sorry."

Then she burst out laughing, "Oh you are going to be so much fun!"

"What did I say?" I asked

Emma shook her head and smirked, "Nothing. So what do you think. I figure we should do 'Hit Me...' again, because it was awesome."

I nodded, "Sure, I'll actually learn how to play it too."

"No!" She spat looking at me, "Play it just the way you did at the audition. It was great, different but that's what made it stand out even more."

"Okay I wont learn how to play it, I'll make shit up. What other songs you want me to make up?" I teased.

"First off I don't want you to make up anything, because I am starving and we are going to have dinner." She said.

"You mean together? At...four pm? What are we old people now?" I asked.

"Yes together, and we are not old. We are just two hungry people who want to get their dinner on."

She pulled into a diner and we found a seat in the back. This time of day meant that there weren't a lot of people eating, and maybe that was what she had intended. I forgot for a moment that she was famous, maybe not Angelina famous, but still famous enough. It made sense, and I felt kind of bad about opening my mouth.

As I sat across from Emma Copper I was struck by the whole experience of it. I mean part of what made Emma so hot was how average she actually was, down to Earth and funny, the list goes on about her. Yet I was completely calm with her, unlike if it was say Megan Fox. Before I knew it, we were eating a couple of double cheeseburgers and chatting like best friends. Though every time Emma smiled at me I felt my heart flutter.

"So who are you taking to the prom?" Emma asked, fiddling with the last of her fries.

I shook my head, "I wasn't even planning on going to prom until I heard about you being there. If I hadn't nailed that audition, I still wouldn't go." I explained.

She raised her eyebrow, "So does that mean you don't have a girlfriend waiting for you somewhere?"

I paused, where was this going? "Right...I'm not....I've not been very interesting to the girls I know. I mean you went to that school, you have to play a sport to even be considered."

She thought about that for a moment and nodded, "I was going to try and argue with you, but then I remembered my first boyfriend was on the basketball team. But it is a shame you know? With the way you play guitar you should be able to sit in the quad and play only to have girls run over and throw underwear at you. Guitarists are pussy magnets."

I laughed, "Well I played for you today and have none of your underwear to show for it."

She looked at me and flicked her tongue over her lower lip, then nodded. "Okay," She shifted in the booth and I watched as she yanked her arms into her shirt and squirm around until her arms popped back out with her bra in hand. She smiled and thrust the bra toward her, "Here!"

I blinked and took the bra slowly, kind of more surprised to be suddenly in the possession of a bra than anything else. Though it was made even cooler because of who it belonged to. I tucked the bra into my pocket quickly and grinned at Emma, "I have celebrity pair of underwear now. Look at how cool I am."

"Don't E-Bay it, I'll haunt you." She warned.

"E-bay it?" I shook my head, "I'm going to fucking frame it."

She laughed. She laughed good and hard. When she finally calmed down she put her hands flat on the table and said, "Okay so why don't we go to your house and try to work out the three songs we should play next week."

I nodded and sat back, "Alright." Then I froze in fear as I realized that my mother would be home and she would flip out if I brought Emma home. "Okay hold on, there is a problem with that."

"Okay what's the problem?"

"Well I have a Mom at home."

Emma nodded, "Most people do."

"Well the thing is, my Mom has been so worried about me not being able to get a girlfriend in school that she is now convinced that I'm....gay."

Emma burst out with laughter again.

"Haha, laugh it up, but if I bring you home she will freak out. Plus....she's a huge Pulp Friction fan. So combine the fact that she'll know exactly who you are, and the whole thinking I'm gay thing, yeah it'll be an experience." I explained.

"I think I can handle your mom." She flipped a fifty on the table and slid out of the booth. "How about we go, I'll handle Mommy, and as an added bonus I will make sure that she never thinks your gay again."

I slid out of the booth, "Well i do have a bra in my pocket." I grabbed my pocket and grunted.

Emma smiled, "Looks like a dick, that's a fat bra dick."

I sighed and turned away, "And it's not funny anymore. Thanks for that."

I got slugged in the arm and we went to my place. It was not the best drive home I ever had because I knew the disaster that waited for me, for Emma. I walked into the house first, my guitar once again slung over my back. My Mother Diane true to form came running up to find out how the audition went.