As I stand before the gym doors, my heart beats wildly. I can’t believe I’m actually walking into junior prom! My light pink, shimmery gown floats to the floor; my hair is a mass of loose, dark curls with rhine- stones tucked among the strands. The elastic band from my wrist corsage itches a little. As I rub my wrist, a scent from the cluster of tiny, pink roses is released. I know corsages are old-fashioned, but I’ve wanted one ever since I saw my mom’s old prom photos. How had Sean known? And where is he?
I look around as a steady stream of people jostles past. I barely know the kids I go to school with, though I’ve been classmates with most of them since first grade. It seems like I’m always rushing off to rehearsals or skipping school for competitions. Tonight, I’m finally going to get to know them and have some fun!
The bass from the music pulses along with my heart as I start to walk inside.
A high-pitched “Dani!” comes from behind, and I’m almost tackled by my best friend, Lauren Hannon. “Can you believe we’re here? Tonight’s going to be epic!”
Lauren is a blur of blonde curls and teal tulle as she bearhugs me before tottering off in her high heels, like a baby deer learning to walk. “Hey, Dani,” is all her boyfriend, Tom, can say as he chases after his hyper date.
Inside the gym, the lights are pink and purple with strings of twin- kle lights hanging from anything standing still. Yards of fabric and crepe paper cover the entire gym and bubbles fill the air. It looks like a deranged pack of fairies threw up on the place, but I have to admit it makes the rank, old gym seem romantic and magical. Jeez, I really am into this prom thing.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. As the smell of sweat and gym equipment mingle with the sweet smell of perfume and hairspray, a wave of utter freedom overtakes me. I cannot remember the last time I felt so excited and unencumbered. Lately, I’ve started to feel like I’m thirty-five years old, worrying about my career, my diet, my future…
The bass pounds louder, less subtle, and more high-pitched, and I open my eyes. Who is picking this awful music?
I turn and walking toward me is Sean Mitchell in a tux with a bow tie that matches my dress. His light, normally shaggy hair is cut and combed to perfection, his green eyes flash with love. A smile spreads across my face that is so big it feels like it will crack in two. He’s pop- ular, handsome, and most importantly, he’s my boyfriend.
We’ve been inseparable ever since we bumped heads on the first day of kindergarten. How we made the transition from friends to a couple, I can’t really remember. At some point, everyone just knew we were together and that was that.
Sean calls out something, but the bass line takes on a blaring, nag- ging quality, drowning out everything around me. I squint at Sean and shake my head; I can’t hear what he’s saying. I walk toward him, and he reaches out his hand and quietly says, “DAAAAAANNNNNIIII- IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII…”