The whole senior year of high school, all I could think of was what I would wear to prom.
I loved that kind of stuff; dances and putting on your best face for anything. Early in the year, I settled on a matte red strapless mermaid gown. The bustier was scalloped and it fits in all the right places before it fanned out from my knees into a beautiful train. However, I couldn’t sit in it and not being able to do so would have seemed kind of awkward. At the beginning of August, I settled on a Zuhair Murad-inspired runway gown. It was of a sheer material that had patches of red lace placed strategically all over the body, so it made me look like I was Poison Ivy. I loved it.
As for the perfect accessory, I thought I would need a boy to be my prom date. I was wrong. I honestly didn’t need one. Or maybe I did. But he wasn’t the one.
This boy, we’ve known each other since we were five. We were supposed to be dance partners for an annual competition that our kindergartens usually organize every year.
I left abruptly for the UK, so he was left without a partner.
We met again in high school and were just plain good friends but we thought we owed each other a dance to make up for the one that could have been.
I didn’t know he’d ask me to prom but he did.
He didn’t get me a corsage. But that doesn’t matter. Maybe he didn’t know about this stuff. Prom is never really a boy thing.
You’d think the worst part is when he didn’t ask me for the first dance.
Someone else did. This boy who noticed I’ve sat alone long enough. I declined politely at first, still looking at my prom date who was still standing with his best friend a few feet away, not even looking back at me. I decided then that I came to have fun, so I took this other boy’s hand and at that moment when he twirled me around and pulled me closer, both of us smiling so hard at each other, I knew I came with the wrong one.
But my prom date stepped in and we danced to a few songs together before he went back to his friends, but my girl friends came in to save the day and we danced our cute bums off. He didn’t even give me a hug goodbye. The worst part was when I had lunch with my girl friends the next week and they told me that he didn’t want to ask me to prom at first because he didn’t like my voice.
He said that I sounded like a toad.
So I don’t have a girly, high-pitched voice, but that really hurt a lot. Maybe all he wanted was an accessory as well, a girl in a pretty dress with his arm around her.
It hurts being used.
It hurts thinking I could’ve gone by myself and maybe had, even more, fun. It also hurts that I was told this only a week later when I could have saved myself.
I could have said no when he actually did ask.
Sometimes I feel robbed of a true prom experience, however, boring people thought it was, but maybe there’s a boy out there who’d want to have countless dances with me and not think any less of me.
I forgot to thank that boy who gave me my first dance but know that I’ll remember him forever.