Poppy Jameson has lived her life as an average. An average student. An average daughter. She isn't the favourite child, or the best student, and she has never been in a relationship. She doesn't want to fit in, but she doesn't want to stand out. She...
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lewis
The Winter Dance was in the function room of a hotel in town this year. Everybody had expected it to in the school gym, but there had been an surprise last minute donation and they had managed to snag a relatively fancy room.
Because we didn't drive, we agreed to meet each other at the hotel. That way, Poppy and Faye could get ready together that afternoon and take their time finding their way here. I arrived early, which surprised absolutely nobody.
The function room had been completely transformed into a winter wonderland. I had been expecting a banner and a couple of balloons, maybe some icicles hanging from the doorway to show off the winter theme. But the surprise donation must have included decorations as well as funding for a location.
There was a giant banner on the back wall, and silver, white and light blue balloons of varying sizes around the room. A fake snow machine was set up against a backdrop for professional photos, and a Photo Booth was set up in the corner for friendship groups to mess around in and get their fair share of fun photos.
Streamers and icicles and snowflakes were all hanging from the ceiling, completely disguising the plain white roof. The tables were set up, covered in silver confetti in the shapes of snowflakes.
The glasses were frosted glass, and there was even an ice sculpture that I had no doubt would be the main attraction for the guys who would, at some point, all decide to lick it.
The invitations had said for us to arrive at seven, so naturally I arrived at half six. The chaperoning teachers were already here, in suits and dresses. They were all sharing a bottle of wine, making the most of their drama free night before the class of teenagers arrived.
I waited in the lobby, not wanting to spend the first part of my night with teachers.
A couple of guests were checking in, their necks craned to see what all the fuss was about in the function room. A giant sign pointed students in the right direction, down the corridor to the left of the concierge desk. There was a massive balloon arch over the doorway, you couldn't miss it.
At around ten-to, people started arriving. I saw a series of cars through the rotating door pull up and students climb out. Most of the guys had opted for a classic black suit, but there was a few - from the football team - who rocked up in white, or blue.
Paul showed up exactly at seven, and sat with me in the lobby rather than going into the room alone. While we waited, the DJ started to play music from the charts. Overplayed songs that we had heard a million times already, but girls screamed regardless.
Like me, Paul was in a classic black suit. He scrubbed up well for somebody who lived in shorts and sweatpants. He'd even slicked his hair back and shaved the mess of hair that had began growing above his upper lip.
