Page 13 of The Year I was Almost Prom Queen

I’m usually with Stephanie on Friday nights. I really don’t feel like going anywhere tonight though. I just want to lay here and be left alone with my thoughts. I haven’t dared ask my parents yet if they are the ones who nominated me. I know I’m a disappointment to them. I’m not beautiful, I’m not popular, I don’t have a billion friends, I’m hopeless at sports, I’m a klutz at dancing, and I’m not peppy enough to be a cheerleader. I prefer hanging out with one best friend and watching a movie at home rather than go to a party. My parents can’t wrap their brains around it. They were both the life of the party, always surrounded by friends, attending every sporting event, or participating in them. Mom was prom queen and Dad was the pitcher for the baseball team. They should have had little model children who are sporty and athletic and as beautiful and outgoing as they are.

They got that with my younger brother. He’s junior class president and on the JV baseball team. Mr. Popularity. I can almost guarantee that next year, when he’s a senior, he’ll be prom king. He parties every weekend. Our house is always full of his friends. He always has a hot girlfriend on his arm. He’s the mini version of Dad. My poor mom. She got jipped when she had me.

I’m built more like Dad. Tall and broad-shouldered. I’m not tiny and petite like she is. I don’t want to dance or cheer or wear dresses and do makeup. It’s just never interested me. She tried putting me in pageants as a kid, but I hated it! I put up toomuch of a fight, that she finally gave up. She wanted me to be interested in the same things as her so badly, but I never was.

Instead, I’m the smart one. 4.0 GPA and always worked hard in school. Most parents would love having a kid like me. I’m never in trouble, I don’t cause them any grief. Yet I’m the child they’re always frustrated with. Because I’m not like them. College can’t come soon enough!

“Hey, Em, dinner’s ready.” I jump as Dylan’s voice comes through my door.

“I’m not really hungry,” I say, rolling over.

He pushes my door open without knocking. “Come on, Em, mom is already upset enough. Would you please come downstairs and eat with us? I have a date tonight; I don’t need your drama slowing me down.”

“My drama?” I sit up and stare at him. “All I want is to be left alone, in my quiet room. How is that drama?”

“Because you wouldn’t look at prom dresses with mom,” he says, shrugging. “If I go back downstairs and tell her you aren’t coming, she’ll probably cry. Then I’ll have to wait until dad calms her down before we can eat. And I’ve got a date with a senior tonight. A senior, sis! Please don’t ruin this for me.”

I pinch my lips together and sigh. “Fine.” I slide off the bed. “Who are you going out with anyway?”

“Tessa.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down. “She’s amazing! I can’t believe she actually agreed to go out with me. Now come on, let’s go.”

I pause. “You mean Tessa, like prom queen candidate Tessa?”

“Oh yeah,” he smiles.

My stomach twists into knots. It somehow feels like a betrayal to have my brother dating the competition. I shake my head of those thoughts. Why do I care? I follow Dylandownstairs and into the dining room. The one meal Mom actually knows how to make is laid out on the table.

“You cooked. Is it a special occasion?” I ask, sitting down and dishing spaghetti onto my plate.

“No, Emma, I don’t need a special reason to make dinner for my family. Some kids actually enjoy when their mothers cook for them. But I don’t know what that’s like.”

I close my eyes and sigh. I didn’t mean to offend her. I was honestly just asking. But now I feel like I need to make an extra big deal out of thanking her for dinner. This is how she got me to wear makeup today. My mom is the guilt-trip queen of the world. “I’m sorry about dinner, Mom. It looks wonderful.”

Dylan nudges me.

“And I’m sorry about the dress. It was a rough day at school. Maybe we can go shopping next week sometime?”

“At the mall?” she brightens.

I grit my teeth. “Sure, Mom.”

“And you’ll actually try some on?”

I close my eyes and nod. “Maybe they’ll look better on.” I doubt it, but I’m willing to try anything to keep the peace.

“I hear Jaron asked you to the dance?” Mom says excitedly. She passes me a store-bought roll.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “He did. But Austin and Ethan did, too. I’m not sure what to do.”

Mom jumps from the table and runs around behind me. She hugs my shoulders in a tight squeeze. “Oh, I’m so proud of you!”

“For having three dates?”

“For putting yourself out there, honey. You’re finally trying.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” I start to say.

Dylan laughs. “You did too do something. I saw the post. Call Emma for a good time.” He snort-laughs again.

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