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Description
It's the day of the first ever prom at my school. My sister paints my nails. She and Mom leave me on my own for hours. I'm certain that the other girls are out getting manicures. I'm not lonely, not a teeny infinitesimal bit.
We rush to get ready. Dress, necklace, hair, pantyhose, makeup, all on. I fail at pulling up the pantyhose at first. Mom fixes it. None of us know how.
I'm waiting for him to come pick me up. Pacing back and forth, checking the window to see if he comes down the stairs. I glance at the door and see a shape. How did they...? I open it. He's standing there, wit a corsage, and I have no idea what to say or do. He used to be so easy to talk to, to spill my secrets out to.
His father stops us, says that the powers that be said he had to take pictures. We stand close together, but the hill makes him so much taller than me. He opens the door for me. I let a thank you escape.
We're driving. Conversation comes in fits and bursts, forced through mouths that have no idea what to talk about. Family stories, opinions on names and eyes, and plain nonsense, tumbling everywhere.
We arrive. More pictures are taken. We walk in and the world comes to life. Students and teachers and DJs dancing. Compliments are given and returned.
That bastard is here. Why is that bastard here? Because art girl is here. So he's not that bastard, but art girl's date. But at the same time, that bastard always be that bastard.
Dancing wipes away everything. People are dancing across from me. I have friends to dance with. When did that happen?
He is teased, they say he doesn't move his arms. They ask my permission to try to get him to. I give it.
The DJ tells us that the prom portrait-taking is about to end. Why not? She poses us, has us look at each other. His arm is around my shoulder, and my hand is on his back. He's warm. The picture is taken. We flee from the people waiting in line, who are watching us, bemused.
The Masquerade Promenade. Walk and pose. Easy. I swing my hips on purpose, turn away and smile over my shoulder. I could do this all day, and it would still be fun.
When the DJ tells us to line up, He is in front of me. I smile at him. The DJ makes us hold hands, just for entertainment. I almost regret dropping them.
A slow song comes. We shrug at each other, smiling sheepishly. I reach for his shoulders, but he brushes my touch away. I take his hands instead, and we sway back and forth.
He gets me punch. I smile. I need the hydration to stay alive in this world of fast steps and loud music and warm bodies.
We're outside. We sit a foot apart, both wanting to move closer, but neither acting on it. A fast song comes on inside. I stand, my feet already moving. I dodge around the ground, never touching the cracks in the pavement. I kick off my shoes, not caring what happens as long as I can move.
The song ends. I go back to sit with him, finding my shoes. We try to talk, but people keep interrupting. Finally, my friend asks me to walk with her. I am pulled along, already feeling guilty.
My friend talks to me for a while. We wander out onto the grass and back again before he catches me and takes me back inside. Maybe he's afraid I'll run off with my friend? Very little chance of that, I think.
A petal falls from my corsage. I capture it and leave it with my sweater. Did he notice?
Many songs are played. Some have instructions. We follow them. Time rushes by.
It's the last song too quickly. We throw our all into it. Everyone does. At the end, he hugs me goodbye, and I hold on for as long as I can.
The party disperses. The bus is leaving in five minutes. I gather up my sweater and mask and punch and gift. He waves to me form the door. I chase him. The night can't be over yet.
We sit outside. I close a bit of the distance that there was before. We try to talk, and finally admit to each other that we don't know what to say.
The night is over. Decorations are being taken down. Girls are changing out of their dresses. People are leaving. I give goodbyes.
It's the first prom we've ever had. I hope it will stick in my memory.

Description
It's the day of the first ever prom at my school. My sister paints my nails. She and Mom leave me on my own for hours. I'm certain that the other girls are out getting manicures. I'm not lonely, not a teeny infinitesimal bit.
We rush to get ready. Dress, necklace, hair, pantyhose, makeup, all on. I fail at pulling up the pantyhose at first. Mom fixes it. None of us know how.
I'm waiting for him to come pick me up. Pacing back and forth, checking the window to see if he comes down the stairs. I glance at the door and see a shape. How did they...? I open it. He's standing there, wit a corsage, and I have no idea what to say or do. He used to be so easy to talk to, to spill my secrets out to.
His father stops us, says that the powers that be said he had to take pictures. We stand close together, but the hill makes him so much taller than me. He opens the door for me. I let a thank you escape.
We're driving. Conversation comes in fits and bursts, forced through mouths that have no idea what to talk about. Family stories, opinions on names and eyes, and plain nonsense, tumbling everywhere.
We arrive. More pictures are taken. We walk in and the world comes to life. Students and teachers and DJs dancing. Compliments are given and returned.
That bastard is here. Why is that bastard here? Because art girl is here. So he's not that bastard, but art girl's date. But at the same time, that bastard always be that bastard.
Dancing wipes away everything. People are dancing across from me. I have friends to dance with. When did that happen?
He is teased, they say he doesn't move his arms. They ask my permission to try to get him to. I give it.
The DJ tells us that the prom portrait-taking is about to end. Why not? She poses us, has us look at each other. His arm is around my shoulder, and my hand is on his back. He's warm. The picture is taken. We flee from the people waiting in line, who are watching us, bemused.
The Masquerade Promenade. Walk and pose. Easy. I swing my hips on purpose, turn away and smile over my shoulder. I could do this all day, and it would still be fun.
When the DJ tells us to line up, He is in front of me. I smile at him. The DJ makes us hold hands, just for entertainment. I almost regret dropping them.
A slow song comes. We shrug at each other, smiling sheepishly. I reach for his shoulders, but he brushes my touch away. I take his hands instead, and we sway back and forth.
He gets me punch. I smile. I need the hydration to stay alive in this world of fast steps and loud music and warm bodies.
We're outside. We sit a foot apart, both wanting to move closer, but neither acting on it. A fast song comes on inside. I stand, my feet already moving. I dodge around the ground, never touching the cracks in the pavement. I kick off my shoes, not caring what happens as long as I can move.
The song ends. I go back to sit with him, finding my shoes. We try to talk, but people keep interrupting. Finally, my friend asks me to walk with her. I am pulled along, already feeling guilty.
My friend talks to me for a while. We wander out onto the grass and back again before he catches me and takes me back inside. Maybe he's afraid I'll run off with my friend? Very little chance of that, I think.
A petal falls from my corsage. I capture it and leave it with my sweater. Did he notice?
Many songs are played. Some have instructions. We follow them. Time rushes by.
It's the last song too quickly. We throw our all into it. Everyone does. At the end, he hugs me goodbye, and I hold on for as long as I can.
The party disperses. The bus is leaving in five minutes. I gather up my sweater and mask and punch and gift. He waves to me form the door. I chase him. The night can't be over yet.
We sit outside. I close a bit of the distance that there was before. We try to talk, and finally admit to each other that we don't know what to say.
The night is over. Decorations are being taken down. Girls are changing out of their dresses. People are leaving. I give goodbyes.
It's the first prom we've ever had. I hope it will stick in my memory.