“Ava we’re leaving!” yells my mom from the bottom of the stairs. “One second!” I yell back. I look at myself in the mirror. At my thin brown hair that I haven’t worn down in over three years, my dress that’s too big and my face that makes me look like I might barf. I never liked going to dances because I know I’ll never look as good as any of the million girls at my school, no matter how hard I try. These girls grew up here while I’m the newbie. They know how everything’s going to be beforehand and their all used to it. When I heard about the dance two weeks ago on my first day of school I didn’t think twice about it; I wasn’t going. But then my brothers somehow coned me into it saying, “You have to go to homecoming in freshman year, you’ll remember it forever.” That’s what I was afraid of. I didn’t want to remember another stupid dance. And this time I literally wasn’t going to know anyone, and just like usual I probably won’t talk to anyone; I’ll be all alone…again. And when my family asks how it went I’ll have to lie to them…again. Why do they have so much confidence in me? Why do I always have to let them down? I grab my purse and look at myself one more time in the mirror and bite my lip. This is it. Homecoming. I wonder how many girls dream about this night. I wonder how many girls get disappointed because it wasn’t all they expected it to be. I wonder if because I totally would’ve blown this dance off if it wasn’t for my brothers if I’m normal. I wonder why I care. Just stop thinking, I tell myself but it doesn’t exactly help. “AVA!!!” My mom is defiantly getting annoyed. I take a deep breath and yell, “Coming!” I run down the stairs, out the front door and into the passenger seat of my mom’s black lexus without stopping for breathe because I knew that if I did I might run and hide, just like I have ever since we moved. I’ve ran away from my problems. Why did everything have to change? I ask myself, knowing there would be no answer, just like always. I guess one thing stayed the same. It was just me and my mom for the ride to the dance which was fine with me; the less people I have to talk to the better. All three of my older brothers are on the football team so they had to play the homecoming game. That was one of the other reasons I agreed to go to this dance was because I wanted to go to the football game really bad but then I ended up not being able to go anyway because my mom made me get my hair and nails done at the last minute. This day was seriously not going well and I knew from experience that it wasn’t going to get much better. “Are you okay?” asked my mom once she gets in the car. “Why would you ask that?” While my mom’s getting her seat belt on I pinch my cheeks, hoping it’ll bring some color to my face. She turns her head to look at me and keeps looking at me until I can’t help but unconsciously start fidgeting. “Uhhh…What?” I can’t help but ask. “You don’t have to go,” she reminds me for what felt like the tenth time today, but I know she really wants me to. I look out the window, “I know.” “Then why are you?” As if I could ever tell her why. I could never tell her that I was going because I had to; if not for my brothers than for myself. I had to know I could do this. And I could never tell her I hate going to these pathetic dances. My mom loves these dances, it’d break her heart. So I look at her and say, “Because I want to.” That made her smile really big. “Are you nervous?” she asked. But most importantly I could never tell her that deep down inside I was more than nervous; I was scared. When I was younger I was fearless. I was never afraid of anything. I did everything, from eating a worm to swimming with stingrays. I lived my life with no regrets…Until I turned twelve. I guess in reality that was the year everything actually changed…but only in my head. It was the year I started being afraid. But I never showed it. On the outside I was still the fearless girl everyone knew. Although I started to avoid doing adventurous stuff or rarely ever at lunch everything was pretty much the same. I had the same friends. Went to the same school. But I changed on the inside. I wasn’t the person everyone thought I was anymore. But nobody knew that. I still did all the fearless stuff…but I was scared. The only reason I still did everything was because I thought that if I knew that I could live through it, then maybe I wouldn’t be so scared, but I was wrong. It didn’t change. When we moved I figured I could just start over being an average girl. That’s what I want...I think. Honestly I don’t know what I want anymore. My family still thinks I’m this fearless girl. I guess I still want them to believe that I am. Maybe then I can convince myself of that again too. Were almost at the school and I start to wonder if it’s possible to climb one of these really tall trees… Okay I seriously have to get a hold of myself, it’s not like I’m jumping out of an airplane or anything. I can do this, I’ve done worse. But all the way there I think about the million things that could go wrong just like I have ever since I turned twelve. Why couldn’t I have just stayed eleven forever? My mom pulls into the parking lot and says brightly, “Were here!” I wish I had her enthusiasm instead of wanting to disappear. I have to get out of the car. What’s so different about this dance then all the rest? Oh yeah I forgot I was naturally fearless when I went to my last dance and made up some excuse every time another one came along. And I had my friends. And I lived where I belong. I could probably name off a million other reasons but I couldn’t because I had to stop thinking, period. I had to get out of this car, I had to go to this dance and I had to pretend that I was eleven again even if I’m fifteen. And I had to at least pretend I wasn’t afraid. I open the door and jump out of the car all ditzy like, it feels so unnatural. How can people be like this all the time? “Bye mom!” She looks at me suspiciously but just says, “I’m picking you up at 10:30, you and your brothers better be ready. Understood?” With my mom, timing is everything. “I’ll make sure to tell them.” I turn around to start walking towards the gymnasium when my mom makes me stop when she asks, “Can’t you lose the huge bag?” I slowly turn back around, “No I can’t mom.” She has no idea how much I need it. “But why?” “It’s the new style.” As if I ever cared about that. But I’m not surprised when she just leaves it at that; lately she doesn’t really notice anything about me, or at least pretends she doesn’t. I used to think when I was younger it would be awesome if I had parents like that, but honestly it really stinks. It feels like she doesn’t care about me and it hurts. “Okay then I’ll see you at 10:30. Have fun!” And she drives away. I take a deep breathe; I’m starting to realize I’ve been doing that a lot lately. What am I doing? Grow up already. I turn around quickly and practically run to the gym…no turning back now.
The dance was pretty much like every other. The same crazy music and the same cliquey groups. The same girls with their hair sprayed curls and the same guys with their rented tuxes. It’s pretty pathetic really. I guess some things will always stay the same no matter how bad you want them to change. But this time I had a backup plan. Although I first have to find my brothers. I see Drew, my oldest brother talking to some girls that are giggling and stuff. I wonder if they know how pathetic they look. I start to walk over there and almost get a whole pitcher of punch dumped on me. I seriously have to get out of here before I get seriously embarrassed. I tap Drew on the shoulder to make him stop talking. He turns to look at me and smiles. “You made it, that’s good!” I think he secretly really thought I was going to bail out. But I don’t blame him; I thought I was going to too. “Yup!” I can at least try to be enthusiastic. The two girls are giving me death glares; I guess they look at me like I’m some kind of competition. Pfft, please! If only they knew! I like watching them squirm. “Mom’s picking us up at 10:30 sharp. Got it?” “Yup okay.” “Well I got to go find Justin and Alex to tell them. See you later.” “Yeah have fun!” Sure. Now I have to find my other two bros and then everything will be fine, but I don’t know about fun. I see Justin and Alex over by the appetizers and make a beeline towards them. Thankfully their together. I walk up to them and give them both a hug. I was going to hug Drew but that would have been kind of awkward with those girls. Justin says, “So you didn’t bail out?” What did everyone think I was going too? I roll my eyes, “No, I hope that doesn’t shock you too much.” But Justin just goes, “No it didn’t,” totally ignoring the sarcasm. I almost forgot why I was here, “Mom’s picking us up at 10:30 sharp. She wanted me to warn you guys, you know how she can get.” “Okay Ava now go have some fun!” says Alex. I hold up my hands, “Okay, okay!” And turn around to leave when he goes, “Oh and you look good!” I laugh, “Thanks!” I walk to the exit and to where my bag and coat is. I grab both of them and walk outside into the crisp autumn air. It feels so good on a nice September night. I go sit down on one of the park benches and start to take my heels off and put them in my bag and I grab out my black converses. Once I have them on I feel so much better. This is my comfort zone, this is where I belonged. I grab my basketball I’ve had since forever and leave my worries and coat on the bench and run over to the vacant paved basketball court. I start shooting completely random shots and I immediately feel okay again, this is the best I’ve felt ever since my mom told me we were moving eight months ago. I don’t want the feeling to go away. I feel unstoppable. “You know most girls actually come to dances to dance.” I quickly turn around and there’s a boy standing not even two feet away from me. How did I not hear him before? I must’ve been in ‘the zone’. He was about three inches taller than me, he had dark shaggy brown hair and green eyes. “Well then I guess I’m not normal.” I will never know how I got those words out. He smiles and says, “I figured.” I shoot another basketball and it makes the swish sound; all net. “How long have you been playing?” the boy asks. I look at him, “Since sixth grade.” “Really?” “Yeah, why is that a surprise?” “No. You’re really good.”
To Be Continued...
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