Author's Note: I originally wrote this as part of the 2016 Summer Wattpad Block Party, but I know that a lot of you didn't get to read it and the person posting the Block Party had to remove it, so I thought that I would post it here so that those who wanted it could read it.
Also, in case you haven't gotten any of the numerous messages I've sent out about this - my pal singer-songwriter Alec Benjamin wrote a song for Saving Sawyer based on Sawyer and Graham's love story! It's super cute and honestly the most adorable thing ever, so I definitely recommend checking it out. I've posted it at the top as the song for the chapter.
And without further ado, here's the long-awaited prom scene. Enjoy! And remember that this takes places about four years prior to where we are at in the sequel, Finding Sawyer.
Bonus Chapter | Grawyer Prom
"It's time to let go; everything's gonna be alright." — Finding Nemo
"So," Graham says, looking over at me in the back of the limo with a weird look. "Are you sure you don't wanna tell me?"
"I'm sure," I confirm with a small nod, pulling my phone out of my clutch bag and sending Aspen a quick text to explain to her that I'm already gone and that Graham and I won't be coming by the house. I'm sure she won't take it well at all, especially because she wanted to take lots of pictures of Graham and me, but it'd be stupid to go when we're late already.
I laugh at my friend's apparent confusion and then put my phone back in my bag, zipping it up and then I look at Graham.
"So, what made you decided to get a limo?" I ask, voicing the question that's been on my mind since the minute I saw it.
"Sienna said traditional was better," He explains, shrugging his shoulders. "Also, I'm not old enough to rent a sport's car."
I laugh quietly at that — I should've known it was her who put him up to this. Not that I'm complaining though, because I'm most definitely not. I've never been in a limo, but I can see now why they're so popular at these types of events; it's so nice and fancy. I mean, it'd probably look better if we had more people in here with us, but we're not very sociable people.
"Well, I have to agree with her on that," I say, looking all around in awe. I mean, it's nothing too extravagant, but it's cool.
"Yeah," Graham chuckles and then I feel him grabbing my hand in his. "Are you sure you're okay? I'm just kind of worried."
"Don't be," I urge, looking back at him with a soft smile. "I'll tell you what I was doing if you promise you won't freak out."
"Promise," He instantly agrees, interlacing his fingers through mine. "I will be totally calm, cool, and collected," He adds.
"Okay," I say, sitting back and clearing my throat. "So, I guess I had a wave of bravery hit, so I went to see Flynn," I blurt.
Graham doesn't say anything in response, which is really unexpected, because even though he said he wouldn't freak out, I still kind of expected him to say something, just out of habit. He's never really been on board with the idea of me talking to Flynn, which I can totally understand. Like when Flynn requested I come to see him while he was incarcerated, Graham strongly advised against it and I think that was a big part of the reason why I ultimately decided not to go. But right now he's just being totally quiet, which is a little concerning, but he doesn't look upset, so I take that to mean he wants more.
"I just needed to get some stuff off my chest," I explain and he nods. "I kind of just told him how much he hurt me back then and, like, the effect it had on my life and stuff. And I told him that I'm not the same girl, you know? Like that I'm a lot stronger than I was back then. And he just kind of stood there and it was really awkward and then I left," I inform him.
"Well, he didn't do anything to you, did he?" He finally asks.
"He didn't do anything," I reiterate. "I think he was in shock."
"And you feel better now?" Graham wonders and I can tell he's still kind of worried, but it's okay; at least I know he cares.
"I do," I truthfully state. "I would feel a lot better though if you got in a Prom-y mood and stopped being worried," I add.
And then he finally smiles his perfect smile and it's like the whole entire world stops right then and right there. I think that it hits me then that this really is almost the end. Not the end of our relationship, per se, but the end of us being together like this all the time. It's June now and in just under two months, Graham's going to move to Kansas. And then I won't get to see his perfect smile anymore and I won't get to hug him anymore and I won't get to cuddle with him anymore. At least, not on the regular, they'll all be scheduled. I didn't realize until just now how sad that thought makes me. But then I remember what he said earlier, promising to come home as often as he can, so that makes it a little better.
"I stopped being worried — I smiled and everything — and now you're the one looking all worried," Graham points out.
"I just really love you," I say, deciding to push it out of my head for the billionth time. We've still got loads of time together.
He doesn't say it back or anything, which isn't a big deal since I didn't say it with the goal of hearing him say it right back. Instead, he unlaces our fingers and then puts his hands on either side of my face and leans down, gently placing his lips to mine. I'd say the vast majority of our kisses now-a-days are really hot and sloppy kind of kisses, but this one is much different. It's a little slower and way more chaste kind of kiss, but it's still really amazing and I wish it could go on forever.
After just a couple of seconds though, the intensity of it all kind of multiplies by like a million and all of a sudden, I'm on my back in the limo and Graham's laying on top of me. He's got his weight shifted some special way though, because I'm clearly not dying despite the fact that he's lying on top of me. Girl Dies from Asphyxiation while Getting Frisky with Her Boyfriend in the Limo on the way to Prom. That's what the headline would read if I were to die right now, I'm pretty sure.
"What's funny?" Graham asks against my lips and I realize that I really giggled out loud. God, how does he deal with me?
"Um, nothing, it doesn't matter," I murmur, loosely looping my arms around his neck and picking our kiss right back up.
And then his hand is in my hair and his lips are on my neck and his other hand is halfway up my dress, his fingers dancing around on my thigh. And one of my arms is still wrapped around his neck, just kind of awkwardly dangling and then there's the other hand and it's down the front of his pants. It's wildly inappropriate, I know, and I'm pretty sure the limo driver thinks we're back here having sex, because I hear him clearing his throat and the sound of the partition rolling up.
"You know," Graham whispers in a raspy tone. "We don't have to go to prom," He says. "We can just bail and get a room."
I'm about to reply and tell him that that's a great idea, but I can't get the words out. See, here's the thing about having a boyfriend that looks like Graham Cambridge: he makes me stupid. Whenever we do anything even remotely intimate, it's like the part of my brain that produces sound just completely disengages. I literally sit there looking like an idiot. It's sad.
And just when I've got the thought formulated into a sentence in my head, I open my mouth to tell him, but then the door opens and we both jump in surprise. Graham quickly climbs off of me and grabs my hand, pulling me back up and with baited breath, we both turn to look and see the chauffeur standing there with a very annoyed expression on his face.
"This is your stop," He tells us with a sigh. I feel my face go up in flames not only because this guy, who's probably like in his sixties or so, is looking at us like we're gross, but also because Graham's trying to discreetly zip his pants... and failing.
"Thank you," I awkwardly say as the old guy helps me out of the limo and then shuts it behind Graham once he gets out.
"We don't have to stay very long," Graham promises me, slipping his arm around my waist and kind of pulling me in front of him as we walk. I think that it's so incredibly obvious why we're not walking side-by-side, so let's just not talk about it.
"We can stay as long as you'd like," I assure him. I mean, I'm not really into this kind of thing, but it is his prom, after all.
So we make our way down the faux red carpet towards the entrance and I realize that Aspen wasn't kidding when she said that the Prom Committee was going all out this year. There's actual barricades around the perimeter of the red carpet and behind them are students, who I guess are supposed to be the paparazzi. They're dressed like old-timey people though, but that makes sense since the theme is Old Hollywood and all. They've got the old cameras and everything and they're snapping photos left and right. I wonder how the real celebrities deal with this; it isn't even real and I'm stressed.
Graham and I make it down the carpet after the couple in front of us — #1 Attention Seeking Couple, Adam Godiva and Taylor Fields — who wouldn't dare turn down a photo op, be it a real or fake one. After we're inside, we show the person our driver's licenses, give them our tickets, and take (and pass) our breathalyzer tests. That's a thing that my school does now, I guess so no one comes into prom wasted, which would probably be really disastrous. It's kind of a buzz kill though.
Prom is already in full-swing (it started about half an hour ago) and surprisingly enough, it's not too awful from the looks of it. There's tons of people in the ballroom, but it's really spacious, so that's nice. Currently, there's a Drake song playing full-blast and while I love Drake just as much as the next girl, there's a table of food to my right and it's calling my name.
"I'm gonna see how many cookies I can stuff my face with before someone comes over and looks at me weird," I tell him.
"Okay then," Graham laughs. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," He informs me before taking off towards that direction.
When Graham is gone, I walk over to the table of food and I almost start crying from how perfect it is. There's just so many snacks and if there's one thing I love, it's snacks. There's chips and cupcakes and cookies, aka the holy trinity, and even more stuff like Pigs in a Blanket and then some other kind of meat product. While I'm waiting for Graham to come back, I grab a couple of cookies and then go stand in the corner with my back to the crowd and start scarfing them down.
But before I'm half done with my first cookie, I hear a voice behind me and it's definitely not the voice I wanted to hear.
"Sawyer, I was not expecting to see you here," Creepy Kevin Lysander announces in his infuriatingly high-pitched voice.
"Well, Kevin, it is the Senior Prom and I am dating a senior, so it was kind of a no-brainer, you know?" I say with a sigh.
"Flynn told me that you came over earlier tonight," Kevin states, randomly changing the topic.
"I'm done talking to you about your douchebag brother, Kevin," I blurt, eating another cookie.
"I just thought that you should know you really ruined his night," He explains. "He feels guilty."
"Considering the fact that he ruined the past year and a half of my life, I don't feel bad," I shrug.
"You need to go and see him and apologize," Kevin decides. "It's not like he even did anything."
And with that, I immediately turn on my heels and walk back over to the food table. I pick up a solo cup, fill it with punch from the punch bowl, and then go back towards Kevin, who's just standing there with a confused expression, and I throw it at him. He's wearing a white suit, like an idiot, so it completely ruins the whole thing and I probably should feel bad, but I don't. This is supposed to be a fun day and he and his bitch baby of a brother keep ruining it and I am just sick of it.
Before Kevin even has the chance to react though, I walk away from him for a second time, this time going much further away. It's pretty dark in the ballroom (the only lighting is coming from these cute little string lights strung up on the walls), so I can't really see that well as I'm walking. I just hope that I don't fall on my face though; that'd be pretty awful.
"There you are," Graham says and I realize that he's standing right there in front of me. See? I told you the lighting's bad.
"Here I am," I nod, looking up at him with grin. "So did you get your... uhh... problem situated?" I ask, biting back a laugh.
"It isn't funny," He tells me, but he chuckles, so I think he sees the humor in it too. "You're really killing me, you know."
"How so?" I ask, silently rejoicing as the chandeliers above us come on, illuminating the room a bit, giving off a soft glow.
"Well," Graham says, putting his hands around my waist as a slow song (Moonlight by Ariana Grande) starts playing. "You've got your make-up all done and your hair's fancy and you look really pretty in your dress and it's driving me crazy."
Obviously the feeling is mutual because Graham's pretty much always driving me crazy, but I don't say that. I just smile and tell him that whenever he's ready to go we can. Then I put my arms around his neck and we slow dance to the song.
I think about it then and realize that prom is kind of a huge lie. I mean, you always see it in the movies and it looks like it's tons of fun and you just can't wait until your own, but then you go and it just isn't that great. I mean, the decorations are nice and all and the music selection is nice, but I wish I'd taken Graham up on his offer to bail. I think that he was just excited then though, because he looks like he's actually having a pretty good time. And really, that's all that matters.
"Hey, babe?" Graham says about like halfway through the song.
"Hmm?" I ask, but don't look up because I'm too comfortable here with my head on his chest.
"I really love you too," He tells me, echoing my earlier statement.
So we dance for a while to a couple of slow songs and a couple of not-so-slow songs and then some member of the Prom Committee comes on stage, telling us that it's time to announce who the Prom King and Prom Queen are. I'm like 98% sure Graham's going to win King and even though I've been telling him that for the past week, he just doesn't believe me.
"Okay, so your Prom King and Queen are..." The girl says, tearing open an envelope all slow and dramatically, as if this is the Grammys. "Graham Cambridge and Madison Vanpooler!" She exclaims and then there's just a loud eruption of cheers.
"See? I told you you'd win," I remind Graham, joining in with the rest of the students, who are all clapping and cheering.
"Yeah, but I didn't think I would," Graham laughs and then follows Madison up to the stage where they get their crowns.
And when they do, Madison makes a (very cliché and cringe-worthy) speech, but it only lasts a couple of minutes, so it isn't so bad. When she's done, she steps aside so Graham can say something, but he starts acting like he's shy or something and his face goes all red and it's really funny. He says something to Madison and walks off the stage and comes back over.
"Aren't you supposed to dance with the Queen?" I ask as he takes the fancy-looking crown off and places it on my head.
"Yeah and that's what I'm doing," He assures me, putting his hands around my waist again and pulling me closer to him.
"Okay, I'm confused," I admit with a giggle, looking over my shoulder and seeing that Madison's across the room dancing.
"Well, I'm the King and you're my girlfriend and you've got the crown on, so that makes you the Queen, yeah?" He asks.
"Oooh," I say, finally understanding what he's saying and then I blush like I always do when he's being sweet. "So cheesy."
Graham laughs in response and I'm about to say something, but then one of the greatest songs in the history of music, Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran comes on, so I decide it's not so important anymore. So we sway together to the slow, melodic tune of the song and Graham kisses the top of my head and tells me again that he loves me and it's really perfect.
✿✿✿✿✿✿
"Hey," Graham says in the back of the limo a couple of hours later as we're leaving the prom. "Let's do something stupid."
"Something stupid like what?" I laugh, giving him a confused look.
"Something stupid like tattoos," He suggests with a goofy grin on his face. "There's one shop up here that we could go to."
"I can't get a tattoo, silly," I remind him. "You have to be eighteen."
"Yeah, but I know a guy," Graham assures me, still wearing that same goofy look. "We don't have to, but it'd be fun, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay, sure, why not?" I giggle. "Yeah, let's go and get tattoos."
So Graham tells the driver — he still hasn't told us his name, but in my head I've named him Brandon — to take us to the tattoo shop where he knows the guy and about five minutes later, we pull up outside of the small shop and then get out.
"Just INK About it?" I say, reading the neon sign above the door to the tattoo shop. "Really? That's a terrible shop name."
"Yeah, it isn't that great," Graham agrees before leading us inside. "But it's also probably the only place that'll tattoo you."
"Touché," I say, following him through the tiny tattoo shop. It's a good thing there's no other customers in here because I bet they would be making fun of us right now because of how out of place we look. I mean, we're literally in prom attire.
"If it isn't my two favorite kids," A voice that I immediately place as Halden's says from behind us, causing us to both turn.
"Halden is the guy you know?" I wonder, looking over at Graham.
"Yep," Graham nods. "We want you to tattoo us," He tells Halden.
"Right now?" Halden asks. "You guys want to get tattoos at midnight in your prom stuff?" He incredulously asks us then.
"We do," Graham confirms. "If we put it off, we'll probably realize how dumb an idea it is and then not do it," He explains.
"Very true," I nod. I know Beck got a tattoo when he was sixteen and my mom didn't care, but she'll definitely yell at me.
"You guys are weird," Halden announces, as if it's a fact. "Wait, how old are you? You're not eighteen, right?" He asks me.
"No, which is why we came to you because Graham says you'll do it," I explain. "You will do it, yeah?" I ask for clarification.
"Yeah, sure," Halden shrugs and then walks over to a counter with a bunch of a papers. "But if anyone asks, it wasn't me."
"Our lips are sealed," I say, doing the little hand motion. "Alright, so what do we need to do?" I wonder, sitting in a chair.
"Well, figure out what you want first," Halden states. "I'm telling you guys right now though that if you want something stupid like each other's names or something, then you're gonna have to go somewhere else because I refuse to do that."
"We don't want tattoos of each other's names, you idiot," Graham murmurs, thumping his friend in the back of his head.
I'm glad we're on the same page here, because I was a little worried that he'd want to do something like that. I never understood that, why anyone would get someone else's name permanently etched into their skin. I mean, there are way less permanent and way more romantic ways to show someone that you love them. Like getting them food or something.
So after a couple of minutes, we decide that we'll get matching tattoos, just because we're young and stupid and that's pretty much the only reason why. We want something that's not too blatantly obvious though, so we settle on getting just the yin and yang thing. We decide that I'll get the yin (the black side with the white dot) and Graham will get the yang (the white side with the black dot) based on the fact that one's associated with femininity and the other masculinity.
And another reason we choose to get the yin and yang is just because of what it represents and how demonstrative of us it is. Basically they describe how opposite forces are complementary and how they give rise to each other as they interconnect to each other. So it's kind of how Graham and I are totally different people (he likes to party and he's loud and extroverted and I'm a homebody and I'm quiet and introverted) but we work well together and keep each other going.
After we decide, Halden has us fill out some paperwork and then that's when he gets started on Graham's tattoo. I make him go first because I'm half terrified and I want him to tell me how bad it hurts before I start. He ends up getting his on his upper arm, like I guess on what would technically be called the tricep (maybe not though because I failed anatomy). Since it's a fairly simple tattoo, it doesn't take much longer than about half an hour, which is nice because as exciting as this is, I really am ready to get out of this dress and into pajamas and under the covers at the hotel that we're staying at.
"Did it hurt?" I ask after Halden's done doing the dressing and bandaging on the tattoo, which about the size of a quarter.
"Not really," Graham denies, shaking his head, standing up from the chair, and pulling his button-up shirt back in place.
"Are you sure?" I prod with, what I'm sure is, an apprehensive look on my face. "Because it looked like it hurt a whole lot."
"It hurt a little," He concedes, redoing the buttons on his shirt. "But it was more like a prolonged prick," Graham states.
"Okay," I gulp, standing up from my chair and walking over to where Halden's now getting new supplies out. "Just so you know though, Halden, I'm a little sensitive to pain, so I very well might pass during this," I truthfully tell him, just in case.
"You're not going to pass out, Sawyer," Halden laughs, shaking his head. "Like Graham said, it's really a prolonged prick."
"I don't like pricks," I murmur. "That's why I never donate blood, you know? Because it's like a little prick, but it hurts."
"You're just being dramatic, as usual," Graham chuckles.
"Being dramatic is the reason I'm still alive today," I say.
"Okay, okay, okay, stop talking, you're distracting me," Halden announces and I hear something starting to buzz and it freaks me out because I don't know what it is, but I remain quiet because I don't want him and Graham to laugh at me. I make sure to tell him that I want it on the back of my shoulder blade though, just because I think that's a pretty great inconspicuous spot. It's not like an area of my body that my mom will really ever see, so I think it's probably the best spot.
It takes about the same amount of time as Graham's and by the time it's over, I'm honestly so close to tears that it's a little embarrassing. Graham and Halden both completely lied to my face just now when they said it didn't hurt; I literally feel like I've just given birth via my shoulder blade. Not that I know what the feeling of giving birth is like, but if I had to guess, this is how it would feel. On the bright side though, Halden held up a mirror for me so I could see it and it's perfect.
"So, just make sure to keep the bandages on for a few hours — no more than six though because then things start getting a little germy and you run the risk of an infection and that could go a hundred different ways, you know?" Halden says. "I mean, it could be a little thing or it could be a big thing and you don't want to have to get an amputation so just be—"
"Amputation?!" I exclaim, looking over my shoulder at him with a terrified expression. "Wait, does that actually happen?"
"Well, I mean, you know, if you don't take good care of it when you leave, anything is possible," Halden tells me, nodding.
"Okay, stop, you're scaring her," Graham chimes in, walking over to where Halden and I are. "Babe, quit your worrying."
"Okay," I nod, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. "Yeah, you're so right. I'm pretty sure I can look after a tattoo."
"Yeah and even if you can't that's okay too," Halden assures me. "I'm pretty sure you'll still look hot as hell with one arm."
"I'm standing right here," Graham reminds Halden, thumping him in the head yet again.
"Yes, I'm not blind," Halden chuckles. "I'm just saying, your girlfriend's hot," He defends.
"Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow," Graham laughs and then reaches down for my hand.
I grab it and stand up then, trying not to move my shoulder too much because it's just so painful. I say goodbye and thanks to Halden and hand-in-hand with our brand new matching tattoos, Graham and I make our way out of the shop.
"So what are you doing with Halden tomorrow?" I curiously ask Graham as we get back in the limo and Brandon pulls off.
"We're starting this new thing where we go golfing at the country club on Sundays," He explains. "He's a big golfing guy."
"That's so adorable," I say, because it really is. I wish my friends and I had cute little traditions like that. Unless you count the massive amounts of unhealthy food Aspen and I consume together on the daily a tradition, because we do that a lot.
✿✿✿✿✿✿
"Did you have fun?" I ask Graham about an hour later once we're in our hotel room, showered, in our pajamas, and in bed. After we checked in and came up to the room, we realized we each had bags waiting for us. In each bag there were a pair of pajamas, clothes for tomorrow, and little toiletries like toothbrushes and things like that. I don't know for sure, but if I had to guess I would say that Sienna's to thank for that. How she got into the room since it's booked under Graham's name, I don't know. She's a very sneaky girl though, so it's no surprise at all that she was able to get in the room.
"I did," Graham nods. "The prom was kind of bland, but getting to spend the past few hours with you was pretty great."
"You're being so much cheesier than usual tonight," I tell him. "Not that I'm complaining though, because it's adorable."
"I can't help it," He chuckles with a carefree shrug. "You have that effect on me."
"Okay, well, what do you wanna do?" I ask, sitting up in the bed. "I'm so bored."
"I've got at least one really good idea of how to waste at least an hour," He says.
And it's so incredibly obvious what he means and the fact that he's just so open with it make my face go up in flames. You would think that after all this time I've been with Graham and after all this time that I've known him, I'd be used to his overt bluntness by now, but I'm not. I'd rather have a him than a boyfriend who tries to make me read his mind though.
I open my mouth to tell him I think that's a great idea, but before I can say it, my stomach lets out a weirdly loud growl.
"Maybe we should order room service first though, yeah?" He suggests, holding back a laugh.
"That's probably a good idea," I giggle. It's then that I realize I haven't had proper food all day.
So we look at the menu together and since we can't decide on just one thing, we end up order way much more than we should. We get pizza and cookies and ice cream and chicken tenders and way too much other stuff to name. And it turns out their cooks are mad fast because about five minutes after we've ordered, a guy is knocking at our door with the stuff.
Graham goes to get the food and brings it back to the bed, handing me what I wanted, which mostly was the pizza. Then he turns the huge wall-mounted flat screen television on and flicks to this channel playing some weird late-night thing. So we both dig into our food and for the most part, we just sit there in silence, stuffing our faces and watching the show.
And at some point, I suddenly have this epiphany and even though Graham will deny it, it's something I have to tell him.
"Hey," I say, getting Graham's attention. "You kind of saved me, you know."
"I didn't save you," He disagrees. "You saved yourself; I just helped a little."
See? Told you he'd deny it. He's much too humble to agree. But regardless of the fact that he won't admit to it, it's still the truth. In these past eight months that I've known Graham, he's completely transformed my life. He's taught me how to love and how it feels to be loved and he's made me a better person and without him, I probably would still be here today, but I would be nowhere near as happy and as free as I feel right now. And that's exactly how I know he saved me.
So no matter what happens between us in the future, I know that I'll spend the rest of my life loving Graham Cambridge.
And I'm perfectly okay with that.