𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒙 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒃𝒐𝒚.
Charlotte Lancaster grew up as a nobody in her hometown Cherryville, California. Never interested in school gossip or boys. She was always dedic...
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A week passed by and Amanda sent me a text letting me know that I should be expecting a package at my door any minute now. She sent me progress pictures from her studio where she fixed the dress into my correct measurements for the past week. I was nervous and ecstatic to show Vincent my dress, since he's the one who wanted to see me try all those dresses on after all.
And just like she mentioned, there was a package at my front door. I brought the box inside the house and up to my room. Upon opening the package, I noticed that Amanda wrapped up the dress in so many layers of wrapping paper and inside a plastic case in case it fell into a puddle of water or the box had gotten damaged during the transit. The dress was in pristine condition and looked exactly like the progress pictures I had seen. Not one loose thread, stain, or tear could be seen on the dress and I was convinced that this dress was made perfectly for me. I hung the dress up on the hanger it came with and held it up against me as I stood in front of my mirror.
The color was a blush pink that complimented my skin tone and made my hair stand out. Looking at my hair I wondered what I could do to complement the dress with it. I would have to go to the hair salon to get the color treated again because my roots were growing out and my natural brown hair was starting to show again. I thought that girls were over exaggerating the process of getting ready for prom, but then I realized that if you did want to look good, you had to do multiple things ahead of time so you only worry about one thing the day of—having time to take pictures beforehand.
The dress was long, touching the floor but not so much as dragging when I would walk in it. It was a sweetheart neckline and the straps would be on the sides of my arms, a little below my shoulders. It had a light sparkle to the fabric and it had a small puff to the bottom half of the dress, making it flow and would surely expand if I were to spin in it, making me feel like Cinderella. It was something that I had never worn before and I was excited to try it on for the day of.
A knock on the door averts my attention and I see my mom standing there looking at the dress with a surprised look on her face. "Is that the dress?"
I nod with a smile that won't stop growing. "Do you like it?"
She nods. "It's beautiful honey, I'm sure it'll look gorgeous on you once you put it on and you do your hair and makeup."
"I still need to show Vincent," I comment.
"He's your date?"
I shrug my shoulders. "I'm assuming since he kind of hinted at it, but he hasn't officially asked me."
"I'm sure he'll ask you. Maybe he'll do this grand prom proposal that every guy does," she says with an encouraging smile.
"Yeah, most likely," I say, not feeling fully convinced.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
The weekend came by and it was now Saturday night. Maxine was throwing a last minute birthday bash for her eighteenth at her house and invited us to celebrate before throwing her second party of the month—the prom afterparty. Darcy being the party girl that she is, was already dragging me along even though I wanted to stay home.
