AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They all look at me and nod. Mom’s eyes get misty and she claps her hands. “It’s perfect,” she whispers. “Now let’s go find you some shoes.”
After getting my dress and finding some cute shoes to go with it, Mom takes us all out for pedicures. I always thought I’d hate having my feet touched. I would turn Mom down when she invited me to go. As I sit here, with the vibrating chair massaging my back and my feet being made smooth and beautiful, I can’t remember why I ever said no.
Stephanie doesn’t want to have her feet touched either. She even launches from the chair, splashing the poor woman holding her foot, when she begins filing her toenails. Stephanie splashes across the floor, leaving puddle footprints during her escape.
Adika calmly goes to her side and is able to coax her back into a chair. The two of them are complete opposites, yet I can’t help hoping they’ll eventually get together.
Mom has to tip the soaking woman extra to get her to come anywhere near Stephanie again.
The cute, Asian woman who paints my toes the same color as my dress adds a tiny white flower to each big toe. The design is small and intricate. I love the final product.
After pedicures we go out for lunch. As we’re sitting around the table, chatting in our awesome foamy, flip-flops, Ican’t help but feel overcome by gratitude. I never thought I’d be one who would enjoy a girl’s day, or girl talk. But here I am, knee deep, and I can’t wait to wade in further.
We actually have a really good conversation. Not superficial, surface talk, but actual in-depth conversation about life and all of our plans for after graduation. Our fears and the things we’re looking forward to most about living on our own. Mom sits back and mostly observes. Mom. The super talkative, bubbly woman, who usually has to be the center of attention. She actually listens. Without judgment or comments or opinions being forced on me, or anyone else, she just listens. It’s one of the best afternoons I can ever remember having.
***
I can hardly believe it’s Saturday again. This last week went by in a blur. Mom gave me enough makeup lessons during the week, that I finally felt confident enough to do most of my makeup on my own. She stood behind me making suggestions, like any good backseat driver, but I am pretty proud of how it turned out. Even though I may have told her to shut up once or twice in the process. I did let her do my hair though. I’m completely useless at elegant, up-dos.
As I slip into my perfect dress, I smile at my reflection in the mirror. For the first time since my nomination, I can actually envision that crown on my head. I sit on the edge of my bed and strap on the elegant shoes. I don’t normally do heels but, for tonight, I decided to make an exception.
The doorbell rings and my heart begins to pound. This is it. I turn on my stream and show my reflection in the mirror.
“Hey Steve,” I say. “Here we are. Prom night. I know everyone has been dying to discover who I’m going with. Well, you’re about to find out.”
I take my audience with me, as I walk carefully down the stairs. I definitely don’t want to trip and give these people awhole different kind of show. The camera is facing the door as I grab the doorknob and pull it open. Standing on my front porch is the perfect date for me. I’m met by his bright, eager smile.
“There you have it folks,” I say. “Now I’m turning my phone off and leaving it home. I want to be in the moment tonight and be able to fully enjoy my first and last prom. Goodnight Steve.”
Who do you want to take Emma to prom?
Is it Ethan? Click here.
Is it Austin? Click here.
Is it Jaron? Click here.
Ethan
Ethan looks fantastic in his black tux and blue tie. The shade matches my dress perfectly, and Stephanie was right. The color really compliments Ethan’s stunningly blue eyes.
“Wow, Prom Queen, you look beautiful,” he says. I blush and he smiles.
“You look really nice too,” I say.
Ethan spins in a circle for me and then pretends to adjust his tie. I laugh. He knows he looks good.
I invite him in. He slides a corsage onto my wrist and I remove his boutonniere from its plastic container. I hold it up to his lapel and fidget with the pin. I don’t know how to do this. First the flower tips awkwardly to the side. Then it’s too loose and hangs from his suit, like it’s about to fall off. I’m embarrassed I can’t pin on a silly white rose. Ethan just laughs. Mom comes over.
“Do you want some help?” she asks.
“No. But, yes.” I step back, defeated, and hand the boutonniere to her.
She pins it perfectly on her first try. Because, of course she does. I don’t even see how she did it. I feel like an idiot.
“Now go stand by Ethan and smile,” she says. I need to get some pictures.
Mom begins taking about a hundred pictures. Side-by-side, his arm around me, standing in front of him, some outside, some inside. I start to feel like my cheeks are going to crack.
