forget-me-nots [h.s.]

six

Spring 2011

I never liked organized school dances.

I found them banal. I hated going by myself, because I was never really asked-- I hated being surrounded by couples slow dancing while I gorged at the desert table. My mother wanted me to go because it was my senior prom, and honestly, in twenty years, I will probably be glad that I went.

I had spent hours doing my makeup, mostly because I kept messing up and wiping it off with makeup remover. I virtually gave up on my hair and just curled it. I thought that I looked okay when I was finished—I wasn't exactly great at doing hair or makeup.

I didn't get that photo-worthy moment of walking down some grand staircase to my date who waited below; but I did have Harry, who steadied my hand and carried my heels for me so I that I wouldn't trip over my champagne-colored dress.

We were going together; but not together-together. I didn't want to drive and he didn't want to drive alone. So, I bought him a boutonnière—a pale white rose. Our parents made us take photos outside my house; Harry said he didn't mind. He had spent the day at my house while I was getting ready. My father and him had watched a golf match all afternoon. My parents had come to adore him-- I think they liked that he was like the son that they never had.

Once we were settled into his car, he surprised me with a corsage. It wasn't a rose or an orchid; he asked them to make one with violets--he thought it was more unique and memorable that way, and in secret, so did I.

He told me the story of his first high school dance on our way to the dinner. He described himself as a geeky freshman who had his hair cut way too short and who had a small lisp from his braces. I thought it was cute. He claimed that he thanked puberty every day for changing that reality--I hadn't wanted to tell him that I would have been his friend either way.

We joined our friends for dinner.

Terrence and Leah were as adorable as ever--they had color coordinated, both of them wearing navy blue, and they were holding hands under the table. Teddy had brought a girl named Ellie, whom he had been crushing on for months. Anytime she got up from the table the boys would tease him about it. Clark had wrangled some poor girl named Scarlet into going with him--she seemed sweet and we were all trying to figure out how he managed to snag her. We took a few photos--thanks to the waiter who was more than willing to take one with Teddy's camera that his mom had given him. On our way out, two little girls stopped our group and asked us if we were princesses and princes; we, of course, told them yes.

Harry held the door to the car open for me. The drive to the venue was enjoyable. We sang and danced in our seats to the radio. We played punch buggy (I was better than Harry or he was just too afraid to hit me back). It was already dark when we made it to the venue, Harry helped me out of the car, and balanced me when I nearly tipped over in my heels. We laughed loudly in the parking structure—our laughs echoing off of the concrete walls. He held my hand to keep me balanced as we strolled to the elevators.

The ballroom was beautifully decorated.

The theme was A Night in Paris, and they had not been cliché about it. The ballroom was draped in white curtains and purple and pink hued lights; the student council had set up small tables around the dance floor, Harry and I set our things at one of them and saved some chairs for our friends. Music was being played loudly by a DJ, and it seemed to make the floor shake. Even though we had gotten there nearly an hour late, there were still not that many people there. Along one wall there was a desert table with a wooden Eiffel Tower that had been painted black as the center piece.

Slowly, our group trickled in, and we ended up on the dance floor. Our group circled each other as we jumped and danced to the beat of the music. We discovered that none of the boys could dance; Teddy, Terrence, Clark, and Harry were doing this horribly choreographed array of dance moves, which had all of us girls nearly falling over with laughter. After a while, I shouted over the music to Harry to tell him that I was going to get a quick drink--he nodded and continued to lip sync to whatever song was playing.