Another Fictional Friday! Woo-freakin-hoo…
Prom season is here. And with it comes all the news feeds on promposals. It’s cute and all for high schoolers, considering it’s the closest thing most girls will get to an actual proposal for several years.
And prom itself is apparently that big moment that every teen looks forward to. A night to dance away with your (totally lasting) SO. At least, that’s what I know from movies.
Because I wouldn’t actually know what all goes down at prom. Do they really spike the punch? Is it everything a girl dreams of? Does the underdog get the crown????
My prom, or MORP as I liked to call it, was by no means conventional. So, my writing prompt for today is to write on my own prom experience. Of course, with a little added exaggeration.
Here it goes:
She smoothes out the skirt one last time; the material obeys against her perfectly manicured hands. She hears the door bell ring, knowing it must be her friends.
She makes sure that every hair is in place and every stroke of makeup is even, before grabbing her hand bag and heading out the door.
Her parents and friends “ooh” and “ahh” at her dress choice, while she walks to greet them, as gracefully as she can in heels. After taking at least a thousand pictures and hearing the typical ‘be home by twelve and stay safe’ mantra from her parents, they head for their early dinner destination.
Her friends, of course, ask her if she thinks that bad boy she’s had a crush on all year will show. Of course, she assumes he won’t. She’s determined to move on from him. And tonight is the night, as she plans to have fun and look awesome doing so.
They arrive on scene, music pouring from the gym as they get out of the car. She stays close to her friends, as they go into the Starry Night themed assembly. It’s a good thing she chose to wear a pink, short dress. Almost everyone is wearing floor-length black and blues and purples, as if the prom was just a metaphor for being punched in the face.
Her friends vanish into the crowd as she’s taking in the views. She descends the staircase, just as the music changes and a spotlight seems to come down on her. She nervously walks down, all eyes on her. But she’s only searching for one pair. And she finds them.
He smiles at her, and she smiles back.
“Ugh, stupid cliche teen movies.” My words are garbled as I take another bite of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
I look through Netflix for something else, anything else to watch. My dog looks unamused on the couch beside me. “What? Did you want to finish that?” He eyes me with those big brown eyes, judging my state of sweat pants, an old t-shirt, and a messy bun.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want me to get dressed up for you? Dance around the house with all the stuffed animals?” He leans over and licks my face, leaving a trail of drool along my cheek. “Gah-ross!”
I wipe it off with my sleeve, and then turn on an episode of Doctor Who.
Everyday is prom day for me.
That was literally my prom. I just sat around and watched Netflix with my dog. And then, I’m pretty sure my dad brought home Chipotle. Which all in all, still sounds like a pretty good night to me.
***PS: After reading this to my husband, he said it was really sad that I didn’t have a prom. To that, I’ll say, I’ve read enough books and seen enough TV to feel like I’d already been there, done that. It was just so inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Also- mo money, mo promblems. Amirite? 😝