Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi…

A/N: K I'm going to have you do some pretending. Go back to Season 5. Pretend that Manny never came to the wedding gig in Weddings, Parties, Anything. Meaning she and Craig never got together. Also pretend that Craig never went off to Vancouver. This takes place sometime after Weddings, Parties, Anything and before High Fidelity. Enjoy!

Converses and a White Tux

Prom. Lame music, girls in pieces of fabric called "dresses", and guys hoping to "get some" by the end of the night. Completely. Cliché.

Great reasons for not wanting to engage in it. I was planning on sitting on the couch and having a lovely date with Ben and Jerry while everyone was "proming" at school.

Unfortunately for me, Marco got involved.

"Please? For me?"

"Marco! No. I don't want to go. It's completely stupid."

"You don't want one last night with the gang to remember high school?"

"Uh, no. I'd much rather sit on the couch eating ice cream, or gash my eyes out with spoons for that matter."

"Well, too bad, babe. You're going."

"No, I'm not."

"Do I need to get your mother involved?"

"Ugh…fine."

And that's how it happened. I didn't want my mother knowing about prom. Because then I'd really have to do the fancy hair, poofy pink dress, the works. At least with Marco making me go I'd end up looking like I was in the right decade.

He dragged me to the mall the Saturday before the dance and made me try on all of these ridiculous dresses I'd never wear in public.

After several hours of arguing, we finally found the perfect dress. Now, as I'm putting in on, I realize Marco was completely right. Damn. Never tell him that.

The dress is a strapped light lavender number that we found at one of the last stores we went into. The lower half is layered like rose petals and falls around my knees. I really do love it. I curled my hair and picked up my bangs, letting a few pieces fall around my face. So yeah, okay, I look good.

The doorbell rings. My stomach does a half summersault thing. Am I excited? Maybe a little. Don't tell Marco that either.

I put on my sparkly silver ballet flats, grabbed my bag, and ran down the stairs. I had made sure my mother had a book club date with her girlfriends. (Something she picked up in rehab. Don't ask, because even I don't get it.)

I opened the door and there was Marco looking oh so handsome in his black tux, Italian leather Armani shoes, and a fedora to match.

"Couldn't resist putting a hat on?" I tease.

"Of course not! Elle, my dear, you look beautiful."

"You clean up pretty well yourself," I return.

"C'mon," he nods outside. "I have a surprise for you."

I walk out to see a beautiful, white limo down my street.

"Marco! Who's paying for all this?"

He smirks. "Papa del Rossi of course." I raise an eyebrow. "Okay, with some help from Mr. Jimmy Brooks…"

I smile. Okay, maybe this could be fun.

The driver opens the door for me and Marco.

"Ladies first," I smirk.

"Ha, ha, Elle. Really, get in."

I scoot down to the end of the limo. I can't believe I'm actually kind of excited.

"You got this huge limo for just us two? Marco, do I have something to tell Dylan?"

"Though I would be totally in love with you if I wasn't gay…this is for afterward."

"What? Are you and Dylan planning on doing something naughty?"

"If by naughty you mean drinking apple cider and jamming to The Kid, then yeah, Elle. It will get very naughty in here after prom. Especially if Mr. Oblivious gets the point…"

I smacked him on the arm. "Shut up, we're not talking about him."

"I think we may have to."

As my face turned almost as red as my hair, I snorted, "Nope, we don't."

"Yes, we do. It's not completely hopeless, you know."

"Are we at school yet, maybe?" I did not want to talk about Mr. Manning.

"We have a pit stop to make."

"Great, where?"

"To get Mr. Oblivious."

"Of course." I roll my eyes. "Fine. Go get him."

"No, Miss Nash, you're going to get him."

"Ha, right." Though as I said the words, I was already being pushed outside of the limo and up his driveway.

I rang the doorbell and stood there nervously. Why was I nervous? I did. not. like him. Nope. Not. At. All.

As the door swung open, there stood Craig Manning in black Converses and a white tux.

--

A/N: To be continued…you like so far?