Our second submission for First Impressions this month comes to us from Christy Hintz. EVERGREEN is YA Contemporary.
***
Everything looks perfect. Strings of
red lights drape across the ceiling and dangle from the center of the
gymnasium, cloaking all the dancers in crimson.
Everything sounds perfect. The music
is upbeat, the bass a perfect volume, not that crass loud overbearing beat that
makes everyone's ears bleed and heart hurt. Not like last week's
prom at East High--which naturally I crashed to be sure I didn't overlook any
details. Nope, my prom is nothing like that. Everyone is
laughing and having a good time. I circulate, smiling at my
classmates, nodding at their dress and accessory choices. The food
table is topped off. The chaperons are keeping their distance.
I approach a girl standing at the foot of the
bleachers. I tap her bare, brown shoulder. "Where have you
been?"
She's wearing a strapless, short black dress,
one electric blue heel and one emerald green heel. Her nails are
each painted a different color of the rainbow, and today her eyes are a natural
brown. A thick strand of her black hair matches the electric blue
shoe.
"Bathroom." She turns
toward me. "I sat on the seat and everything."
"Ew." I fumble through my
purse.
"What are you looking for?"
"Sanitizer." I hand her a bottle.
She doesn't take it, but asks, "And what,
pray tell, shall I do with it?"
I steer her toward the hall. "Spread
it on the back of your thighs."
She ducks out from under my hands and moves back
toward the dance floor,
laughing. "You really are crazy. Remind
me again why I love you."
"Why wouldn't you?" I put
the sanitizer under her nose for one last try.
She shakes her head and I return it to my purse
with a huff.
"I promise to wear sweats to sleep in
later. My germ-covered legs won't touch anything in your
house."
"What about our toilet
seats?" I watch as a girl in a mermaid dress takes the last water bottle
from the refreshment table.
"Man. I'll shower when I get
there. Okay?"
"Fine." I gesture to the transformed
gymnasium. "It's all fantastic, right?"
"Beyond."
Ms. Fulton, the only teacher not charmed by my
straight A+ average and over-abundance of extra-curriculars is glaring at me
from ten feet away like something's gone amok. All the other
teachers patted my back and congratulated me on successfully orchestrating the
prom-week festivities, parade, and dance. Not her.