Till Forever is Ours

10.

AMERICA DROVE FASTER THAN THE CHIEF, SO WE MADE IT TO Port Angeles by four. It had been a while since I'd had a girls' night out, and the estrogen rush was invigorating. We listened to whiny rock songs while America jabbered on about the boys we hung out with.

America's dinner with Billy had gone very well, and she was hoping that by Saturday night they would have progressed to the first-kiss stage. I smiled to myself, pleased. Cassie and Kamala were passively happy to be going to the dance, but not really interested in going with Peter. I was sure he'd asked MJ anyway. America tried to get them to confess who their type was, but I interrupted with a question about dresses after a bit, to spare them. Kamala threw a grateful glance my way.

Port Angeles was a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quaint than Forks. But America and the girls knew it well, so they didn't plan to waste time on the picturesque boardwalk by the bay. America drove straight to the one big department store in town, which was a few streets in from the bay area's visitor-friendly face. The dance was billed as semi-formal, and we weren't exactly sure what that meant. All the girls seemed surprised and almost disbelieving when I told them I'd never been to an actual dance in New York, only gave the details where my mother threw these big adult parties for her business that I was forced to attend in her favor.

"Were you ever allowed to bring someone?" America asked dubiously as we walked through the front doors of the store.

"Well...yeah, but I thought it would have been kinda show-off-ish you know and I never really cared to ask," I answered.

"It doesn't seem that way," America said.

"Yeah well, things in New York are a lot different than they are here. Besides, people in New York— the kids were not as nice so I didn't really have any friends."

"That's sad." America pouted.

I shrugged, "It never really bothered me anyway, I like spending time alone."

"Ah," started Cassie. "You're an introvert."

I nodded, "Pretty much."

We walked in silence the rest of the way until the girls squealed when they found the dress racks.

"Oh... and I think I should tell you... Michelle told everyone she was going to prom with you." America said.

"She what?" I sounded like I was choking.

"Yeah," America cringed. "Sorry."

"I thought she was going to go with Peter," I said annoyed.

"Really?" Kamala perked up.

"Well, yeah, I thought she would."

"Oh yeah," Kamala said. "Don't give or tell any advice to Michelle, she never sticks with it and honestly never really listens to anyone."

"I'll keep that in mind," I muttered.

The dress selection wasn't large, but they all found a few things to try on. I sat on a low chair just inside the dressing room, by the three-way mirror, trying to control my fuming. America was torn between two— one a long, strapless, basic black number, the other a knee-length electric blue with spaghetti straps. I encouraged her to go with the blue; why not play up the eyes? Cassie and Kamala chose something very similar. Cassie's being pale pink that draped around her tall frame nicely and brought out her honey tints in her brown hair. Kamala's being naturally the same, but an Orange sunset color that also brought out the black in her hair, and the brownish-black tint in her eyes.