-Get Ready

The two days launched me into an oblivion of excitement, anxiety, and nausea. It seemed as though Friday was never going to come, ever. I can't even recall anything from the classes I had Thursday or on Friday, but finally it was 3:47 p.m. and I was getting off of the bus, running stupidly to my house. Knowing that I had about 3 hours to complete all of my ridiculous rituals to get ready, I sprinted like a bat out of hell all the way up the stairs and into my shower. My mother didn't even want to ask.

The shower was unmemorable, but I made sure I used all of the really, really, really, good smelling soaps. (Dorky I know, but hey this boy was worth the effort.) I jumped/fell out of my shower as always and started to dry myself off, wrapping my hair into that awkward 'dry in the towel" formation. Next, began the excrutiating process of tweezing eyebrows and hiding zits. I loaded my face with anti zit away cream that supposedly kills all life known to man in less than a half hour. It better work, cost me thirteen friggn' dollars. Hope for my appearance slowly began to decrease. Not slowly, actually, rather rapid.

I walked out of the bathroom and entered my room. It was messy and all over the place as always. I sat their in my towel, mind completely blank, and just stared at myself in the mirror. I looked away quickly, it wasn't my favorite thing to do. My hair was finally dry for the most part and I started to get ready for my night. Actually our night, considering he was the only thing making it worth while. I glanced to my closest where I saw the off purple-blue dress awaiting me. It was really pretty, but simple. I didn't want anything flashy. I put on my strapless bra with my polka dot panties (my favorite pair), and started on my hair. I decided to straighten it. The straightener began to hear up as I tore my hair into a mess of different sections that looked like a dumb puzzle. "Oh god, please come out decent, please.", I whispered to myself.

The straightening process is always long and tedious because my hair hates me. Still, gingerly and lovingly I attempted to make it into a work of art. finally all of it was done. Flat and non frizzy. Thank god. My make up was awaiting my face, almost tauntingly. I am awful with make up. Disgusting with make up. Why I was even going to try I'm not sure but I was. I smeared some silvery eyeshadow across my lids until they were almost glowing. I opened my eyes with a jerk and blinked several times. My eyes were really weird. They were an off greenish blue with an awkward navy outline around it. No one really ever noticed them since I wore these massive metalic glasses, but I like it better that way. I threw on some lip gloss and mascara, then decided to call it done.

Finally, it was time for the dress. My "gown". It was awaiting me in my closet, just as it was before. It kind of reminded me of an odd midnight sun. It was dawn. That was the color I decided. Dawn. The night and the day finally reunited in their love affair, only to be ripped away from one another again. The darkness of night, the deep, royal purple, with the morning blue sky. I didn't deserve to wear the beautiful color. I slowly let it fall over me. My body was so awkward in it. I hit puberty long before middle school, probably around 3rd grade, so needless to say I was a curvy girl for my age. My mom always encouraged me saying it was only an awkward phase, and every girl has one but seeing the perfect tiny girls at school made it seem like I was the only soldier on the western front.

I turned and saw myself in the mirror. I didn't deserve to wear that beautiful dress, nor to be going with a boy like him. I really did hate everything to do with me. My round, baby face. My manly shoulders. My size B boobs. My flabby stomach. My hips. My fucking hips. Ugh. My thighs. My legs. Even my feet were odd looking to me. I found myself so completely uneven and unproportioned that I wish I could just take a tool box and rearrange all of it. That's when I decided to stop eating and that in high school I would be the girl everyone longed to know. Goodbye old me.

-Moons and Stars.

I slugged down the stares, gently rubbing away the one tear that escaped my eye. My parents snapped around fifty pictures, give or take, and finally I was free to go and see him. I wasn't sure what to make of all this. Wasn't sure at all. I had a feeling that chaos was about to erupt from Disaters' volcano. My parents dropped me off with a camera saying to take as many pictures as possible, and departed with a kiss of lip gloss smeared on their cheeks.

I went inside to see my friends, and just hang around until he came. I sat at the table twiddling my thumbs and occasionally running my hands threw my hair. They decorated the hall really nicely, covered in moons and stars. It was really nice. They hung stars from the ceiling with our little pictures from the yearbook pasted on them, and on every table their was a shiny, metallic balloon shaped either as a moon or a star. The DJ station was set up and ready to go, and the food was all laid out, but I didn't grab anything. Finally, his cousin, told me she saw him outside. I stumbled, as I did a slight jog to the entrance. There outside he was waiting, in front of all of the bushes, looking awkward and adorable all at once. His black hair had neatly been combed and he had a pressed long sleeved blue shirt on. I walked over to him and greeted him with a grin and a hug. I was the luckiest girl alive.

We walked into the dance and I think half of the student body died right then and there, seeing that I, the most plague appearing girl in school had a boy like him entering with me. It made me grin and cry all at once inside. He really did clean up nicely. His eyes still made my heart do that stupid flippy thing. We walked over to the table and sat down with everyone. One of my friends came over and sat down with us. I loved her to death, but I hated her at the same time.

I had two absolute best friends. We were closer than close and we didn't even breathe without each other. The only issue was they were both gorgeous, flirty, and captured every boys heart that was in a 2 mile radius. She had already met him, that night of the ice cream stand incident. I desperately hoped that she would leave me this one though. I loved him.

A slow song then began to play, and I squeaked out a "Would you like to dance?". Somehow, he said yes. That's when I died of happiness. After that all I can remember was the feeling of euphoria and ecstasy washing over me for the rest of the night. We danced 3 or 4 more times and took to many pictures to list. Then the night ended at 9:30, I was so happy yet so depressed at the same time. I wanted to stay with him, dancing forever. I went home and sat in my dress until 2:30 a.m, wishing that I could relive all of it.