I didn’t think my mom would even let me go on such late notice. I was hoping that would be my escape plan.

“I think this is too prom-ish,” she said when the saleswoman showed her a dark purple gown. “This has got to be more not prom-ish.”

I, or course, had no say in what was going on. The saleswoman brought us a very dark blue gown next, and asked if I liked it. I shrugged.

“Do you have anything darker?” my mom asked. The saleswoman nodded, and went off to find something dark. “We want something that will make you look taller,” my mom said as the woman shuffled away.

She brought us a dress so dark I thought it was black for a moment. It was a bit dressy, but I thought it looked nice. The bottom part was layered a bit, but there weren’t any cheesy frills or anything like that. The only downside was the fact that it was sleeveless, but even though, it was quite plain.

We ended up buying that dress. When I put it on it made me look taller, that was for sure, especially the bottom. I was surprised that I could wear a dress like it. I had to mentally psych myself to endure the sleeveless part, though.

My mom stayed up most of the night doing my hair, and enjoying it. She wouldn’t shut up about how happy she was to be able to do my hair. I let her enjoy it, because it wouldn’t happen again. I did set boundaries, though—I did not let her put a tiara on my head. When she was done, I think it looked pretty nice.

There was no school that Friday, and the Mystery game started at six. The real Formal began at seven thirty, so I called Emerson and made sure she knew when to pick me up. She said Shelley was happy for me.

Before I knew it I was waving to my mom and getting into a limo with them.

“I’m so glad they decided to have a formal this year,” Shelley said cheerfully. I smiled weakly. The other girl in the car was a sophomore named Leona, and her freshman brother, Shelton. Shelton wouldn’t stop glancing at me, and Leone kept laughing shyly.

“I like what you did to your hair,” Shelley said to me. I smiled politely, and nodded.

“Thanks,” I said. “I like what you did to yours, too.”

Shelley had her hair put up in a bun. It was shiny. She was wearing a periwinkle dress and her makeup matched. She looked like a different person, and I remembered the way I felt when my mom finished prepping me just minutes before.

My hair looked longer when it was straight, and, for some weird reason, blonder. The bangs that I’d ignored looked different; I’d nearly forgotten about them. They grew out a lot. My mom made me wear lipstick and lip gloss, and, to my dismay, I really liked the way it came out. Same with the rest of the makeup. It was weird. I looked older.

In the limo I kept glancing to Shelley, because she looked beautiful. It was awesome how she fixed herself up like that. Emerson was wearing a dress, too, but hers was plain black. Her blue hair had been dyed a more natural shade of brown, and put into a more feminine style. I barely recognized her.

Shelton’s glances began to annoy me, and I wanted to tell him to quit, but I couldn’t. Being in a dress really did make me more feminine.

When we got to school my heart started racing. There were a bunch of people going in, all of them dressed in these outrageously dressy things. Goodness, this was overrated.

When we got out of the limo another one came up. I wanted to stay with Shelley and Emerson, but I felt like a third wheel. I went in the gym alone.

On the floor was the white ‘snow’ that Emerson and I had painstakingly planted the day before. People were walking on it without a second thought. The gym was dark and there were pale blue lights coming from the ceiling. The DJ was onstage playing a bad song.

My first instinct was to find Wes or Christina or even Carol Anne.

“Hey, Kyle!”

I turned on my heel and saw Eric striding towards me with Emily stuck to his side.

“Hi, Eric. Hi Emily.”

They both smiled graciously. Emily was wearing a loud pink dress that stopped at her knees. She was wearing a tiara over her blonde hair. Her braces were shining. I nearly laughed when I saw Eric was wearing a tux—it was weird.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Eric said over the tasteless music.

“I didn’t think I was either,” I said. I laughed because they laughed.

“Well everyone’s over there,” Emily said, nodding to a table behind a group of people. “I think I saw Carol Anne, too.”

By ‘everyone’ I was sure she meant Wes and Josh and Scott and them. Not my everyone. I didn’t have an everyone.

“Alright,” I said, grinning uncontrollably. They nodded to me, and I drifted in the direction Emily told me. I saw the table she was talking about. Josh was sitting there with his arm draped around a tall brunette with hair that didn’t seem to end. Scott was chatting it up with a blonde. Even Greg was there, with Judy. A mannish girl was clutching a fat boy.

Then I saw her—not even her. She would’ve technically been an it because she wasn’t human, but it sounded horribly offensive.

Rachel, the angel, really did make life harder for me. She was wearing a downright gorgeous blood red dress. It made her pale skin stand out even more. Her hair looked lighter in the darkness. She’d gotten it layered for that night. Even though it was short, it was amazing. She made my arms burn, and it took me a while to realize I was jealous.

The archangel sitting next to her didn’t make me feel any better. Wes was only wearing a suit because he hated dressing up, but that night he looked different. His hair was still disheveled, but he still looked different. It took me a while to figure it out. It was in his eyes. Every day before then, Wes’s eyes had been clear green. That night the pale, clear green had deepened and intensified so much, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been wearing contacts. They were green like an apple.

I took a step back because if I kept staring I’d cry. I wondered away and walked aimlessly until someone stopped me.

“You look down,” Christina’s voice said drearily. I looked up at her. She had on a plain black dress and boots.

“I feel down,” I grumbled.

“What’s wrong?”

Christina walked with me to an empty table, where I nearly fell on my seat. She sat down beside me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked again.

“I feel sick.”

I’d never spoken to Christina about anything remotely romantic, and I didn’t think we’d ever have to. She really surprised me.

“You saw Wes with her, didn’t you?” she asked grimly. I nodded without thinking much. “I know how you feel,” she finished.

“You like Wes?” I asked. Christina shook her head and smiled sadly.

“I just know how it feels, I mean.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity, but then the reality hit me; Christina and I were utter failures. I looked at Christina and saw the staleness on her face. She sighed, staring at the table sadly. I felt weak; my body actually hurt.

“How come bad stuff happens to good people?” I moaned.

“I don’t know,” she said weakly.

“Why do we have to be good people?” I sobbed. Tears started running down my face and hitting my shoulders.

“I don’t know, Kyle,” he groaned.

“Sixteen years, Christina! Sixteen fucking years I put up with him! I hate this fucking shit!” I got louder and the cute little crush I had turned into burning agony and rage. “Why can't he use his head?!”

People began to look at me. Christina didn’t leave me, though, she sat by me, crying quietly.

“I hate him, Christina, I hate him!” I bit my lip, stifling a surge of tears. “No! I hate this! I hate everything! This is all my fault! None of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for me! I’m an idiot!”

I knew people were staring, but I didn’t care.

“It’s all my fault,” I said, weeping. “It’s all my fault. Nobody cares. Nobody. Nobody will care, either. We’re supposed to be alone. All alone. Forever.”

I’d never heard Christina make a sound of weakness until then. When I said that we’d be alone forever, I heard her cry loudly. I looked at her and saw the mascara flooding down her white face. I ran my fingers over my own cheek and saw the black on them.

“Don’t cry,” I said, suddenly feeling sadness for her. “Don’t cry, Christina.”

She ignored me, and kept bawling. I reached over and pulled her into a hug. I would’ve been bothered by the tears on her face if I hadn’t been crying, myself.

Time passed. People walked away. Christina stopped crying.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“You, too,” I said.

Author’s Note: It’s short (sorry) and blunt (sooooorry) but that’s where my original version ends… it’s supposed to continue. I probably won’t post that for a while because I’ve gotta re-do most of the rest if I even decide to post it (I don’t think it’s too great). So sorry… but yess that’s all. Thanks for reading, I know it was hell hahaha