The Debutant's Court

It felt like I was at a club. The music drifted out of the room vibrating my entire being. The pulse of the drum felt like my own heartbeat and the bass was so overwhelming the sound became own thoughts. I could feel it in my bones that tonight anything was possible. But maybe it was just wishful thinking, for all I know it could have been my nerves. I was sitting at a table with nine of my old classmates wearing a navy blue dress coat with matching pants, a maroon button down shirt and a black tie to top it off. The last time they saw me was three years ago. I had long caramel colored hair fixed perfectly in a fishtail braid, silver glittery heels and a pink dress that made me look like a princess straight out of a fairy tale.

"Can I take your plate, sir?" the waiter questioned interrupting my thoughts. I turned slightly, making eye contact with him and said, "Thank you." However, I was not for thanking him for taking my empty plate but for his conscious or unconscious perception of my gender. All eyes were on me. Can I take your plate, sir? Surly everyone had heard him and more importantly they didn't hear me correct him.

I excuse myself from the table. I was beginning to feel the tension settle in my chest and down my stomach. I wonder about the halls of the hotel. Being alone I finally notice its beauty. I've always loved the smell of hotels. Maybe because it had a smell of something other than my own home.

I walked into room 209 where Ashley said the court prepared before her debut started. Everyone was inside. The party was barely half over and already the entire court was faded on cannabis or trashed on alcohol. I didn't take anything, I felt just as wasted with anxiety of tonight. Seeing my old classmates after three year has caused me to remember more than I expected from middle school. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I pick up a random cup from a dresser. It looks untouched and lately I find myself drinking to get drunk at any event with booze.

Luke approaches me, the only one completely sober. "Nothing has really changed, huh? You're gay or something, Andrew's girlfriend is pregnant and Dexter is a drug addict. We are just fucking ourselves over instead of causing chaos and breaking shit in a classroom. Same bullcrap different age."

He had a point. Our class is quite reckless. I thought back to the day in the seventh grade when Blake pushed someone into a closet door and it feel on top of another boy. The teacher was outraged.

Then I remembered we were still that group of misfits. The class who had four different teachers in a span of two years. The class with the boy who raised his hand during a family tree projected and asked "What if you don't have a dad?" The class who had a curly haired boy who cried in the back of the bus when the girl he liked avoided him. The class who made fun of each other because they didn't know how to properly express their feelings but at the end of the day sat in a circle and played Mario Kart together.

"Yeah", was the only response I could think of.

I rotated the red solo cup in my hand and stare at my disfigured reflection. I study Luke's face. He's never been one to questions rules, he's only ever followed them and after pondering for a moment I asked, "Want some?" as I offered him some of my beer that wasn't even mine. He looked back at me, said, "Fuck it." then took a sip.