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Disclaimer Don't own. Never happened.

*Author's note: In order for this to make sense you have to pretend Fall Out Boy somehow moved to California (Don't worry, I know they're from Chicago) and you have to pretend they're the same age as the members of Green Day (18) (I know they're not!) I know this is kind of a stretch, but get over it. This is fan fiction.

"Why is my mom making me go to prom again this year?" Emma asked rhetorically, slamming her locker shut as she spat, "Wasn't going last year and getting kicked out enough?"

Mike, who was standing on the other side of her locker's door, sighed, "Have you ever thought of," he gave her a look, "not going?"

Emma squinted at him, "Yes," she replied. "But, my mom's freaking out because I didn't go to stupid winter formal. She finds it strange I would rather go to Oakland to see my boyfriend then get stuck as some third wheel with you, Shelby and Cheech."

"It's okay. You didn't miss much," Mike admitted.

"Besides, I don't have a date..." she paused and smirked at Mike.

"Sorry, Em. The only reason I got to go last year was because you and the foreign exchange student spilt the cost with me."

"I'll do it again!"

Mike smiled. "We have a gig that night," he added. "I'll see you at lunch."

Emma pouted as he walked away to his next class. "Damn Billie Joe had to go and drop out," she muttered to herself. "If he was still here, I'D MAKE HIM GO!"

Stoop was walking by and she stopped next to her. "What about Billie Joe?"

"I don't have a date for prom," Emma moaned.

Stoop thought for a moment. "I can't go with Pete. Maybe I can make him go with you."

Emma looked annoyed. She didn't like Pete, but she had little other choice. "Would you ask him for me?" she asked.

Stoop held up her hand. "Peter!" she yelled down the hall.

Pete suddenly appeared next to them. "You called?"

"Will you take Emma to prom?" Stoop asked bluntly.

Pete opened his mouth to say something, but took himself back. "I can't. I just promised this chick in my Calc class that I'd I go with her."

Emma yelled in frustration. "What the hell? I couldn't even get Martin and Mike to go with me! And Mike's, like, my best friend!"

"Dude. You asked Martin? That's, like, really desperate," Pete pointed out.

"Shut up," Emma snapped. She sighed and pulled a small poster out of her notebook. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this," she said, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She hung the poster on her locker.

" 'Available for prom'?" Pete read. "Now that's really desperate."
Emma sobbed.

Meanwhile, across the hall

"Hey," Joe exclaimed elbowing Patrick in the ribs. "Emma's available," he said, pointing at her newly hung poster.

Patrick blushed.

"I dare you to go ask her."

"I... I can't," he admitted.

Joe frowned at him. "What's the worse she can do? Say no? Besides, if she's desperate enough to advertise her availability, I'm pretty sure she's going to go with the first guy who asks her." He gave Patrick a strong push towards her.

Patrick gave Joe a nasty look and meekly walked up to Emma who was just about to walk to her 4th hour class.

She ran into him. "Excuse me!" she exclaimed and looked up. "Oh. Hi Patrick."

He stared at her for a couple seconds before blurting, "Sorry!"

Emma smiled at him. "I'll see you next hour?"

He smiled back. "Yeah."

She gave him a little wave and started to walk away.

Patrick looked back at Joe, who was sending him a death glare. "Man! You blew it!" Joe threw his hands up in the air. "What am I supposed to do with you?"

One week later. Prom night.

Emma went to prom alone.

"It's not that bad!" her other friends tried to comfort her, but what would they know? They decided not to go this year, and last year, they all had dates.

She sat and ate with Jessica, her date, Nick, and Nick's friends, feeling stupid and very out of place. It was probably the worse experience ever.

Joe, Patrick and Andy went to Prom alone.

Joe had a theory: why go with one girl when, if you went by yourself, you could hit on every girl there?

Patrick wasn't going to go at all, but when he noticed that Emma had signed up by herself, and with a strong urging from Joe, he broke down and went.

Andy didn't go last year, and he wasn't a fan of school sponsored social events, but, he figured it being his senior year, he should just go so he could say he went. Armed with a stack of comic books, he settled down at their table to wait through the awkward small talk while they waited for a dance floor to be cleared.

Joe looked at Patrick who was looking at Emma across the room. "Dude, watch and learn," he said and walked up to the super popular cheerleader, Denise, who was with her equally popular quarterback, Jeff.

Denise looked at Joe with disgust. "What do you want?"

"Why don't you lose the zero and get with the hero?" Joe asked matter-of-factly.

Denise shook her head and walked away.

Joe went back to Patrick looking slightly embarrassed.

"Did you just demonstrate the proper way to get rejected?" Patrick asked.

"Go talk to Emma!" he snapped.

"I can't," Patrick almost yelled. He blushed and looked at his feet. "Especially tonight. She looks very intimating."

"She looks intimating? You look intimating! Why do you have to slick your hair back? It makes you look like you're fifty!"

"Thanks, Joe."

"Just go talk to her. She looks bored."
Emma was currently almost sleeping on top of her table.

"Go get her before that Chris kid does."

"But..." Patrick was able to get out before Joe pushed him over to her.

She looked up at them.

"Patrick wants to ask you something," Joe said, then ran away before Patrick had a chance to argue.

Emma leaned her head in her hand and cocked it at him, amused.

"Uh," Patrick stuttered stupidly. "You... you look really nice tonight."

"So do you," she replied nodding at his powder blue suit and matching hat. "I like the hat."

"Joe wanted me, er, I was wondering," he took a deep breath. "You look bored; do you want to hang with us?"

"Okay, but only if Chris can come too," she admitted.

Patrick looked slightly annoyed, but nodded, "Yeah, more the merrier."

Emma grinned and stood up, but not before saying, "Come on, Chris. We're going to go sit with Patrick and his friends."

Chris looked up, surprised that Emma even knew his name. He jumped up to follow the other two losers, almost knocking over the table.

Once they were halfway across the room, they were interrupted by Mr. Hirsh, the English teacher. "Welcome."

Everyone looked at him.

"Tonight you will be entertained first by an hour of live music, then we will finish out the night listening to the DJ. (Read: We didn't have enough money to hire a hypnotist. This was cheaper.)"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I wish they'd just tell us who the band is in advance. With my luck, it's probably a damn polka group."

"I doubt it," Chris admitted. "I don't think the administration's stupid enough to hire a band that could induce a riot."

"I'm betting on Christian rock," Patrick ventured, not wanting to be left out.

Emma glanced up at the makeshift stage just in time to see one of the band members come out. She squinted at him. "Wha-what?" She recognized him, "No," and went up to him. "What the hell?" she blurted and smacked the guy in the chest.

"Ow," the guy whined. "It's good to see you too."

"Mike! This was your gig? Prom?"

Mike shrugged. "The juniors apparently like us."

"You guys are playing?" Chris whined. "Man, that's almost worse then Christian rock."

"Shut the fuck up," Mike snapped. "Your friends are worse then us and you know it."

Chris pouted.

"Did Billie Joe happen to make it?" Emma asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"He's outside," Mike admitted. "He's helping the DJ carry in his crap so he can hook into ours."

Patrick frowned, trying to sort the previous sentence out.

"Billie Joe's helping?" Emma exclaimed unbelievably. "I didn't think that was possible."

Mike gave her "the look," "It depends."

As if on cue, Billie Joe came in lugging half the DJ's light show. Mike and Emma looked at him while he walked by. "What are you standing around for?" he asked Mike, glancing up. He did a double take and almost dropped the equipment he was carrying. "Holy crap!" he blurted.

Emma waved.

Billie readjusted the load in his arms. "If my hands weren't full of expensive looking electrical equipment, I'd, like, totally make out with you right now," he said.

Emma nodded sarcastically. "I bet you would."

"I think I just threw up in my mouth a little," Chris admitted to a generally depressed looking Patrick.

Patrick sighed. "What the fuck was I thinking? Trying to compete with Billie frickin' Joe Armstrong he muttered shaking his head and started to walk shamefully back to Joe and Andy.

Suddenly, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He slowly turned around to find Emma, her head cocked and her arms crossed.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

Patrick was confused. "Don't you want to be with Billie Joe?"

"I have to suffer through Mike, Tre' and Billie playing for an hour before I can hang out with him," she reminded him with a grin. "Besides, you asked me first. It'd be rude if I just ditched you."

Patrick studied her behind his glasses. "You're really glad he's here. Aren't you?"

"I think just seeing Mike made my night 10,000 times better," she admitted with a laugh. "Maybe this won't suck after all, and," she added, grabbing Patrick's arm, "I think I saw them putting out some cheesecake."

Patrick smiled and let her lead him to the dessert table.

~The End~