Chapter 15

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I go to school the next day very surprised that I'm excited to go to Prom. I get through my classes and Mason picked me up from school. The teachers didn't give us much homework because they want us to forget about school and life for a while as we dance away our hearts and make memories. I'm serious. That's what one of them said.

The day goes by slowly as we drag through our classes. Once the last bell rings, everyone rushes out of school. Mason is waiting for me and I hop into the car.

"How was school?"

"Good. It was so slow though. I can't wait for tonight."

"I'm just glad your so excited about this."

We sit in silence the rest of the way home, the excitement lingering in the air. Once Mason pulls to a stop, I run out of the car and into the house. I vaguely acknowledge Penny and run to my room. As I toss my stuff I tot he ground, I plug in our curling iron.

I turn around to my beautiful dress draped over my bed. I get out the matching heels and jewelry. I put in Mom's pearl studs and shave my legs. Once I'm done, I put on some lotion and it's already 4:00. I continue getting ready and decide that I would eat at the dance. I didn't want to get full here as I know I would stuff my face with all of the food in sight as usual.

I brush my teeth and clean my face so I have a nice, fresh surface to work with. I put on my makeup, and although I usually wear the minimal amount, I put on blush, eyeliner, mascara, foundation, and more. I tried to just define my face more and I think I actually did a pretty good job. I curl my hair and slip on my dress. I pin my hair to the side and look in the mirror as I put my new bracelet on my wrist.

A small gasp escapes me. I look like my mother did when she was my age. Normally I would tear up at this, but it makes me feel strong. I miss my mom still but I realize now that she's with me. Not the cheesy, "In our hearts" thing, but my memories and how much we look alike.

I step out into the hall to show Mason when I see something that really takes my breath away.

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