Folklore

Betty: 2 Weeks Before

People have always said I'm an "old soul". I read a lot of books, I like to write, and I love to dress up for the mundane. When I was younger, adults joked that I'd be thirty by the time I was sixteen. Well, now I'm sixteen, and I'm not sure whether they were right or wrong, but I know I have something that most kids my age don't. 

I hold a dress up to myself. "What do you think?" I ask James. "Pack or leave?"

My boyfriend examines it intentively from my bedroom desk chair. "Leave."

"James, you can't tell me to leave everything." I lay the dress down on top of the ever-growing pile on my bed.

"Well, if you don't pack anything, you can't leave." 

"Well, in that case." I pick up everything and begin shoving it into my suitcase, looking straight at him to read his reaction. His jaw drops and he puts his hand over his heart ironically. "Just kidding," I laugh, and begin unstuffing all of my things. 

He gets up from the chair and approaches me. He hugs me from behind and begins swaying with me. "Why do you have to leave?"

"It's only gonna be six weeks," I say. "And it's not like I'm going to Spain." He laughs at my mini-joke. "I'm gonna be in New York. And you know this has been my dream since we met."

It's true. For as long as I can remember, all I've wanted has been to attend NYU and to perfect my writing skills. I still can't believe it's actually happening for me. 

"Six weeks is a long time." He brushes his hands through my blonde hair, tugging on my ribbon. "I'm gonna miss you so much." He kisses my head.

"I'll call you every night." I cling to his arms. "And when I get home, I'll have the most amazing poem I've ever written about you."

"Ahh, every guy's dream," he laughs. "A girl writing a poem about you."

I jokingly push him away. "Shut up. You know how much it means if I write about you."

"I know."

I turn back to my bed and review the clothes that are already lying out. I hear James entering my closet and going through the racks. 

"Hey," he says. "Is this what you're wearing tonight?" 

I turn around to see him holding up my golden tulle prom dress. I run to him and take the hanger. "You weren't supposed to see it yet, but yes." Defeated by him already seeing it, I hang it from the top of my open closet door.

"It's beautiful." He says. 

"Thank you." I smile.

"Not as beautiful as the girl who's gonna be wearing it, though."

I kiss him, then kiss him a little more, until we are interrupted by my mom poking her head in my door. "Betty, sweetie," she says. "Hey James. What time were you planning on leaving for prom tonight? I want to get pictures of you guys before you go."

I talk to her from across the room with James' arm still around me. "We're getting dinner at Aunt Becky's restaurant first, so probably around four so we can get there in time for our reservation."

"Okay, great." Mom says. "Call me when you're ready."

"I will." I wait until she closes the door, and then kiss James some more. "Think about it."I run my hands up his back. "I'm not leaving until the day after finals. That gives us two more weeks here together. So how about we forget about the packing, and we have an amazing junior prom together?"

"I like that idea." He kisses my forehead. 

"And you promise to dance?"

"I already told you. I'm not much for dancing, but for you I'd dance in a crowded room with a spotlight on me."

I hug him. Oh, how I can't wait for tonight.