Miss Americana

Eight

This Sunday was my first debutante dance practice, and honestly, I was a bundle of nerves and excitement, especially because I'd be spending the evening with Miles.

"Oh great, you're basically ready," Natalia said as she walked into my room.

I was sitting at my vanity, finishing up my makeup. I'd gone for a simple, natural look, nothing too heavy. I was wearing an Alice + Olivia black-and-white tweed dress with a collar adorned with pearls and rhinestones. My curly hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and I had on pearl earrings to match.

"Are you excited?" Natalia asked, her tone bright and curious.

"So excited," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic but probably coming off as a bit off.

Natalia raised an eyebrow, catching my half-hearted attempt. "It's not just practice, you know. It's your first cotillion practice! Is Miles picking you up?"

I misted my face with setting spray and nodded. "Yeah, he's like five minutes away."

Natalia smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Anything going on with you two?"

I gave her a look, trying to keep it casual. "What do you mean?"

"You know," she teased, "anything...more than just friends?"

I shrugged, playing it cool. "We're just friends."

"Hmm," Natalia said, clearly not buying it. "Well, whatever it is, just don't keep me in the dark."

"Got it," I said, rolling my eyes playfully. "But seriously, you're gonna have to chill. It's just dance practice."

She laughed and patted me on the back. "Alright, alright. Have fun. And remember, you look amazing."

"Thanks, Nat," I said, giving her a grateful smile.

I slipped into my platform Uggs, tossed my heels into my black Longchamp bag, and hurried downstairs to see Miles' BMW parked at the curb. He stepped out of the car looking effortlessly stylish in a button-down shirt, slacks, and dress shoes. Honestly, he looked so good it was hard not to smile.

"Hey, Tay," he greeted with a warm smile.

"Hi, Miles," I replied, returning the smile.

He opened the car door for me, and I slid into the passenger seat. The car was filled with the strong scent of Black Ice—classic boy move, but oddly comforting.

"You look nice," he said, giving me a genuine smile.

My heart skipped a beat. "You don't look too bad yourself."

The conversation went flat for a moment, and a bit of awkwardness settled in.

"So, have you ever done something like this before?" I asked, trying to make small talk.

He shook his head with a grin. "Nope, this is all new to me. I'll do my best not to step on your toes."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Yeah, I'm a bit nervous about the waltz too."

As we drove to the country club, we chatted about everything from our classes to the latest gossip about cotillion. The conversation flowed and made the ride feel shorter than it was.

When we arrived, the country club looked even more stunning than I'd imagined. The entrance was like something out of a fairy tale, with sparkling chandeliers and polished floors that reflected the soft lighting.

Inside, we were greeted by a mix of familiar faces from our school and some people from other schools. It felt a bit overwhelming at first, but once we started mingling, it was easier to relax. We shared laughs and exchanged jokes before the instructors finally got us organized and ready to practice.