Wouldn’t you just love to read this fun read by Robin Mellom before Christmas?
Justina wakes up in a ditch the morning after prom and she doesn’t remember anything. The memories rush back and through the stains on her dress she tells the story of going to prom with her best friend, Ian. Except this wasn’t just any prom.
An extremely cute, fun read. I enjoyed the format, the characters, and Justina’s voice as she figures out her love life.
And I have a copy of an arc to give away! Woo hoo!
All you have to do is tell me a real life crazy prom memory. Or, if this was your story, and you woke up the morning after prom, in a ditch, tell me one crazy thing that might’ve happened to you!
Please leave your email in the comments so I can contact you.
Thank you everyone for a great fall! This is my way of giving back and saying thanks! ‘Tis the season, after all.
I’ll be taking a break this week for pumpkin pie, cinnamon spice and time with family. (And some mad revising when I get a second.) See you next Monday! And help spread the word about this terrific book by retweeting!
Sounds like a fun story!
As for me, I actual was the ditch-er at prom. I was dating this guy who I was only dating because he pissed off my parents (which, I swear to God, my own daughter had better NEVER do). It was kinda like in a bad teen movie where everyone knew this guy was loser except for me, and I finally had an epiphany at prom after he used a gay slur against one of my best friends. So then I left him and spent the rest of the night drinking way too much liquor in a swimming pool. Naturally.
Oh! merediththewriter at gmail. 🙂
Ditched in the Ditch
The flower thing… the thing on her wrist… the watch flower?
Whatever it was…
cortege?
A crumpled heap of plastic and flower lay about a foot from my face and I groaned – not from the pain but because I let Sophia down – twice.
If I’d only remembered the damn thing in the first place – it was on the kitchen table, so why hadn’t I grabbed it…..Ugggh
Anyway, I knew I wouldn’t make it back to the prom. I rolled over, a bed of sharp stones so far from the futon I imagined I’d be relaxing alongside my new Spanish girlfriend. I sat up slow, trying to figure out what had happened.
Checked the crown jewels, and they were OK. Next, all the bits that could wiggle were, so I knew I’d be alright, but I wasn’t riding the few miles home.
(moon… caused accident)
I looked up, it was a full moon, and when I could, I stood and looked down the road leading back to the hotel, where our class of seniors repaid half of the nation’s debt paying for this unique opportunity at U.S. Naval Station, Rota, Spain.
Where I crashed, it looked like a natural turn in the road. What had happened? Was it that easy?
I stood up, out of ditch…. Grabbed bearings… began to walk/push the yellow rental bike toward the village.
“Ralph!”
I pushed.
Oh God, I’m hearing voices. How much does this bike wei-
“Ralph, please! It’s me, Sophia”
Ah, of course.
I laid the bike down, where something, out of somewhere in the mess that was my rental mode du transport, wheezed a mechanical-sounding “cheers.”
“Sophia, how did you get here? You’re not a… vampire, or anything, are you?”
No, stupid, look,”
She pointed and I turned, still able to see the rear lights of some car or van in the distance.
Damn,
Ah, she was going to be pissed that I forgot her… watch flower…
CORSAGE!
“Yes, my corsage! Ralph, it’s OK, it’s no big deal,” Sophia smiled and took a lot of my weight onto her hip, as well as the bike, which she seemed able to maneuver, too.
It wasn’t until two days later that I woke up and knew things had changed… and it was another day before my scrambled eggs episode.
I was busy making eggs, toast, bacon, hash browns and sausage, and all was well until I dropped two eggs on the floor.
Hopefully….no one noticed.
Her corsage…. I thought to myself that she’d be pissed.
I didn’t tell her,
I thought to myself…
The egg in my hand cracked, as did my smile.
Aloha Laura,
Mark from above entry… Sorry, forgot my email addy. Here you go.
mark.koopmans@yahoo.com
Mahalo and aloha!
My friends and I disappeared from our prom and went to a local bar. Of course it was obvious we were underage, but one of my friends talks our way in. After we got bored there, we headed back to the prom, only for some guy, not much older than us, to follow us back to where our prom was being held. Naturally we flirted with him. And naturally the principal knew instantly that he didn’t belong there and shooed him away.
A few hours later I returned home and to find my mom still waiting up for me. No surprise there. What did surprise me were her questions about my evening. Turns out my sweet younger brother told my mom that my friends and I were actually going to a strip bar. Turns out my mom could be devious too. You should have seen the revenge she cooked up. 😀
stinalindenblatt(at)shaw(dot)ca
Well, my daughter ditched her date and prom this past year. I guess he was being a total jerk. She didn’t think it was funny at the time, but now, she laughs about it. My own prom was pretty uneventful. Have a happy Thanksgiving!
I don’t have a very crazy story. Just that my date was 19 inches taller than me. We had it at the state capitol building, and we had pictures on the marble staircase. I wore 4 inch heels, and stood a step higher than him, and I still didn’t make it to a normal height difference between us!
I graduated from a high school for American dependents in Germany. The night of our high school prom, several couples, myself and my date included, drove together from our military housing project to the Officer’s Club on post where the prom was being held. When the dance was over, a number of couples were invited over to one girl’s house “on the economy,” meaning she and her parents rented a German house in town.
The parents were at home so no hanky-panky was allowed, BUT beer was freely available. One of the greatest advantages to living in Germany, at least as far as we under-21s were concerned, was that there was no drinking age limit and many parents allowed their children to imbibe, within reason.
It was my unfortunate luck that my date imbibed rather too freely at the after-party and, when the rest of us were ready to leave, he couldn’t be awakened. We left him there to sleep it off, with the parent’s approval, and drove the 20-odd miles back to our housing project. The next afternoon, my date came over to the house where I was staying with some friends and complained bitterly that we’d left without him. He’d had to hitch-hike home, finally catching a ride on a euphemistically-named honey wagon, one of the open-air manure trucks that carried their loads from farm to farm. He smelled it, too.
His family was re-stationed shortly afterward and I never saw him again, but I do hope he learned his lesson: don’t get drunk and pass out on your date.
This isn’t really crazy, but it’s true.
We were doubling with my good friend and her date. When “T” and her date showed up at my house for pictures, we found out that she had bought the same dress that I did!
We laughed it off, took pictures of us wearing the same dress, and proudly went to the prom as twins. We had a great time!
loree(dot)huebner(at)yahoo(dot)com
Such a cute contest…and I would LOVE to win this ARC. For my prom, I had an UBER crush on this one guy…but he tried hooking me up with his best friend. Talk about a major romance fail.
pamharris1981@yahoo.com
Ack! I remember all my guy friends and their mouths dropping open when they saw me in my dress. I used to wear huge frumpy clothes (lacked confidence). That was kind of fun. ;D
Sadly proms were not around in England when I was at school, although they’ve become popular in the past few years. All we had was the school disco. Jeans and t-shirts, too much make up, fizzy pop and home by 10pm 🙂
Don’t hate me, but my senior prom experience was dreamy. I went with a cute boy and some great friends, and I was even voted queen. (Don’t be too impressed. You could fit my entire senior class inside a matchbox. It was a tiny DOD’s school.) No ditching involved, just lots of dancing and a wee bit of shenanigans. All in all, a lovely memory.
melissalanders (at) gmail (dot) com
Ha, I’ve heard this book was funny.
So, in high school all the boys were scared of my father because he was crazy. So for prom, I had to ask an out of town boy to go with me because no dared to take me. 🙁
By the time prom came, the out of town boy was so scared of my father that he brought me home like around 10pm — so sad. Even sadder, my parents WENT ON A CRUISE so they weren’t even there!
That’s real fear I tell ya! 🙂
karen (at) karen-strong (dot) com
We had the prom on a tourist ferry and I accidently started a fire in the downstairs toilets while trying to light a dooby. It declenched an explosion in the hold. We all had to be evacuated onto the loading dock- Girls in their tattered dresses with smoke and tear-stained faces wore their dates rumbled jackets on their shoulders as they stared in shock at the boat sinking into the deep blue, taking our prom with it.
I’ve been wanting to read this book, jealous that you have an ARC!
My junior prom was on a boat in Boston Harbor. Before you tell me how lovely that sounds, Boston Harbor in May is cold. We had to get our food on styrofoam trays and carry them to benches. My date, who’d been a benign family friend, suddenly was all hands. Not glamorous. And years later, I got to be an administrator on duty on that same boat for the annual freshman orientation cruise. #memories
My prom date ditched me to smoke pot in the parking lot with some jocks so, in revenge, I kissed my ex-boyfriend on the dance floor all night. The part of the equation I forgot, however, was my ex-boyfriend’s date, who poured a drink down my dress. I may have deserved that.
I have no crazy prom story because I never went to prom. My school didn’t have one. And that’s the truth 🙂
I went to an all girls, Catholic high school and so I had no prom date and neither did my best friend. So we both cooked up some “awesome” date/boyfriends and told everyone and then she borrowed one of my sister’s old dresses and I wore a black skirt and white shirt, like a tux, and we went together.
We had a great time — we danced, we got pictures, we fought over the party favors, which technically the girl was supposed to take home and all the other girls thought it was great!
On Monday morning we were called to the Dean of Students’ office and were asked if we were lesbian and then left alone in the room to think it over. We didn’t know what to do. We weren’t, but didn’t think there was anything wrong with what we did and if we were lesbian, why should it matter? We just wanted to go to prom.
So the Dean came back in and we told her we were not and she told us she was sending letters to our parents about our behavior with recommendations… ACK!!
My friend had parents who laughed about the whole thing, but I was able to intercept my letter, since my parents were pretty conservative and religious.
I’m at lursinatyahoodotcom
I was anti-social and anti-prom my senior year, with no intention of going. Especially since the only guy who asked me was the class dork—and I was the 12th girl he asked. And he didn’t even ask me himself, he had his cute friend ask me. I had to think quick and said I was already going with someone else. Then I had to convince my gay best friend, (who was a year younger,) to go with me. I told him he didn’t need to rent a tux or a limo, no corsage necessary, and I’d buy him dinner. Finally he agreed. We got to the prom 2 hours late, had our picture taken, and left. He said he had a “friend” who was having a party and we spent another couple of hours looking for it. Finally we arrived, in our prom gear, to a house where the air was so thick all you had to do was breathe to get an incredibly potent contact high. Not sure how long we were there, but we stumbled out just before dawn, drunk and high, making our way to a nearby Denny’s, where we talked for hours and got home in time to receive the full brunt of our parent’s freak-out. I’d say it was the best prom ever.
lolielynn at gmail dot com
I LOVE Ditched!!! (I have it, so don’t count me in the contest)
Before my senior prom, I seriously asked my dad to get us a bottle of champagne for the limo ride there. (He was a dean at another high school.) He obviously didn’t! Looking back, that was rather bold of me!
the dog ate my prom dress…
Aw…we didn’t have prom. :(. But Becca should enter this–she has THE BEST story about Prom!
Congrats to my Agency-sister Robin on a great book, and thanks for giving it a shout out! 🙂
Angela
I don’t really have a crazy prom story. I wanted to go so badly, and it was quite a letdown. But I got over it. 🙂
Happy Thanksgiving! Have a great week!
This book sounds so cute!
Um…I’m still in high school. Never been to prom and never plan on attending. (That’s private school for you.)
Hope I can still be entered…? *puppy dog eyes*
rivkarno1(at)hotmail(dot)com
LOVING THIS!!! These responses are awesome! Makes me want to write a prom night sequel. 🙂
Thanks for doing this giveaway, Laura!
Didn’t have a prom; did have a “junior-senior banquet.” Nothing super exciting happened during it, or after it (unless you count getting lost a million times on the way to the afterparty or my date pushing me into the freezing cold pool. Twice.), but he did ask me with GOLDFISH. (Real, live goldfish.) Really excited for this book 🙂 tarynalAThotmailDOTcom
Well, I ditched the guy friend I’d said I’d go to prom with when a handsome swim jock asked me to go with him, and in turn got ditched by him at the prom for a pretty blonde who’d just dumped her boyfriend. So I guess I got my just desserts 😛
Oh, Prom! Thanks for bringing up THAT horrible event in my life. Thanks a bunch for making me relive it (actually, I look back and laugh at the absurdity of the whole night, It was ridiculous.
I was dating a guy a couple years older than me and he had gone off to college (distance relationship going on) and he couldn’t come back into town to take me to my senior prom. But he didn’t want me to miss it either. So he gave me permission to go with someone else, with the stipulation I couldn’t kiss the guy. No problem there.
A good friend of both of ours had the solution–her cousin. I would go to prom with her cousin (great guy, cute, funny, knew the situation). No pressure. Just fun. And I could have a great time with all my friends and I wouldn’t have to miss out because my boyfriend couldn’t go.
The big day arrived. “The cousin” came to pick me up for the prom. I had never met the guy before, so I didn’t know what to expect. Low and behold, the guy was like 4ft tall. AND, to top it all off, he was in the 9th grade. Yeah. 9th grade. His mother picked us up. I was 18 yrs old going to prom with a 14 yr old. HELLO! Can anyone say jail?
I told his mom I could drive, but NO. She wanted to. She took a TON of our pictures too. TONS. Oh Lordy. Those pictures are floating around somewhere in space. Some day they’re gonna show up. I just know it.
Anyway, his mom drops us off at the ubber fancy restaurant where we meet the other two couples we are double dating. My friend who set me up was loving it, though she was playing it all cool. I thought she hadn’t a clue how embarrassed I was–that she thought her cousin was great. No, she knew (it had all been a joke that she and my boyfriend had cooked up–a plan I didn’t know about until later on and boy was I mad).
Anyway, this kid I’m stuck on a date with has no manners. None whatsoever. This is a nice restaurant. NICE. Up scale. He burbs. He burbs a lot. He laughs about it. He blows bubbles in his drink.
AND then, the waiter brings up a big bowl of soup that we are all to spoon into our individual bowls. My date takes a bite of his soup, says it sucks, and then dumps it back into the large pot. Thanks. He now ruined the soup for everyone.
When we get to the dance, as we are walking inside he rips a fart. Then he tries to blame it on his shoe. “My shoes are squeaky. It was totally my shoes.” No it wasn’t. I wasn’t stupid. It was a fart.
I’m still going along with this, thinking I need to be nice to this kid. After all, he is my friends cousin and she went out of her way to set me up with him. And he was 14. I didn’t want to scar the kid by rejecting him or being rude. I’m nice like that. Dumb, but nice.
So I try. I try to be kind to this child I snatched from the cradle. I danced with him. His eyes were at my chest level. Yes, he was that short. He kept trying to lay his head on my chest and I kept pushing him back. Then the kid kept lowering his hands to my butt. Yeah! Right?
It was this whole stupid game of trying to keep the little pervert off me–keep your head off my chest, stop touching my bum.
I would tell him I had to use the bathroom just so I could escape him. I think I spent 3/4’s of my time in the bathroom at my prom. Friends would come in and ask about my date? Where did I find him? How old was he? What the heck was going on? It was so embarrassing. So miserable.
His mom came to pick us up when it was over. She invited me to come back to their house and watch a movie with her son. She had popcorn and soda, she said.
I told her I needed to go home. I had some unfinished homework I needed to get started on (this was a Friday night–who does homework on a Friday night?).
What kind of mom wants an 18 yr old girl to date her 14 yr old son? To this day I have no idea if she was in on the joke or not. She seemed so genuinely happy that her son was on a date with a girl–any girl.
The whole night was horrible. From start to finish. It sure was memorable though. Silver lining?
Anyway, that’s my story. No beautiful flowers or twinkling stars. No butterflies dancing in my belly. Just burps, farts, grabby hands–and the possibility of going to jail.
acornmail@gmail.com