After Prom

Prom night was full of the hullabaloo we all expect, photos, gushing moms, make-up, corsages, and deep, thrumming bass echoing out into the evening from a packed gymnasium made up to look like we were inside a champagne glass.

It’s not that I didn’t laugh or dance, but the slo-mo, head-turning moment didn’t occur. I caught a glimpse of him once, headed to the door with a group of his smoking buddies. So anti-climactic.

As the last slow dance came to its close, I found myself outside looking at the stars.

“That was awesome! Didn’t you have a great time?!” Amber gushed, sweeping me into her car with Steven. She giggled so much, I didn’t have to answer.

“Let’s see about this after party!” The car pounded out bass that set off alarms in parked vehicles and Amber bounced in her seat the whole way. Steve kissed her at stoplights.

When the flyer said garage it meant garage. A band played loudly, made up of senior guys who thought they could play. The yard was packed with peers and beers.

Then I saw him.

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