elliot lee -- the boy with the loud laugh and the stars in his eyes.
micah cassidy -- the boy who's always got his earbuds in to drown out the world.
micah and elliot fell in love in the ninth grade. they've been best friends since way before that...
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The week leading up to the end of year dance is the craziest frenzy of my whole year, or at least that's what it feels like.
Elliot asks me if I want to go to the dance with him as friends because it's a vital high school experience. I buy my ticket on the day of the deadline. Mom takes me to the mall to look for a suit, or whatever formal wear we can find, in a panic that we don't have enough time and we shouldn't have done this on such short notice.
Honestly, I don't think I am excited for the dance. The prospect sounds less and less appealing as more days pass, and as it looms closer on the horizon the lump in my throat only grows.
But there we are, at the mall. There I am, following my mom around like a lost, confused, terrified little puppy.
"How about this?" Mom's hair is wind blown, cheeks red after running from shop to shop.
She's pointing at a powder blue suit, the sight of which causes my heart to stop. It's the most gorgeous color I think I've ever seen, like my very own piece of the sky.
"Do you want to try it on? Oh, it'll go so nicely with your hair! Color wheel and all that..." She waves her hand in a circle before looking at the price tag, expression unreadable, and then looks at me again.
I nod, unable to find words, and so mom plucks one off the rack and leads me around the store until we finally find a changing room.
"I'll be out here!" Mom sends me inside with a small wave, sitting down at one of the benches where the parents always end up sitting when their kids finally kick them out of their privacy.
The door clicks closed behind me, and as I turn the lock, I remember why I hate dressing rooms so much. Mirrors are placed on almost every wall, my own reflection staring back at me a jarring reminder of who I am. I pointedly make a motion of staring at my socks, noticing the hole on my left foot, so as to avoid having to face myself today.
As I put on each piece of the suit, I begin to feel more and more at home in my body. My binder works its magic, the cherry on top of the cake, and I finally look up into the plethora of mirrors once I work up the courage.
My heart trips over itself, breath catching in my throat for a beat.
This is me. This is what I have wanted ever since I was a little kid. I never wanted dresses, or long hair. I just wanted to feel like myself. Looking in this mirror, right now, I feel like myself.
I run a hand through my hair, allowing myself a moment to take in my appearance. It's rare I feel this confident, and I want to soak some of it up for myself before I have to share it.
I push open the dressing room door then, tears prickling in the back of my eyes.
Mom's gaze latches on to me, and a grin lights up her features. "Oh, honey!" She rushes over to me, tells me to put my arms up and spin so she can see it from all angles. "This is so gorgeous! What do you think?"
