How I Became A Socialite

Mint Green Fabric and Men

I quickly open the box and remove its contents. It’s a dress, a beautiful dress. Silky mint green fabric covered in a netting of pearls and other assorted gems.

“Oh, Daniel, It’s lovely…”

“I thought you might like it, I think you look beautiful in that color. Although, to be honest, the sales clerk figured most of it out for me, she matched it up to a picture I have of you on my phone. You know the one from that trip we took to that Island… what was it called? Saint something… Saint Mark? No, that’s not it.”

I interrupt him by placing my lips on his, guiding his hands to my back. He kisses me quickly, sighs, and then looks at me, “How has all of this happened?”

What does he mean? How has all of this happened? The kiss? Paris? “I don’t know what you mean,” I tell him.

“This. Us. You were my college girlfriend, then the girl who wouldn’t marry me, then you ran off to some random town, left for Paris, then you and I… became something, and now look at us. What happened? How did we get here? Why couldn’t we have just been normal or something?”

I glance at the floor of the car, “I didn’t know you felt that way, but do you really want to be something normal? What is normal anyways?”

“Normal is not dodging my questions when I ask about your history, normal isn’t running off to Paris and avoiding me.” Daniel looks straight into my eyes as he adds the last part, “Normal isn’t tearing my heart to pieces so you can go run off to Paris with your little boyfriend,” he sneers.

“Daniel, we have already gone over this. We’ve had the Wesley discussion… do you really have to bring this up? If so, pull over the car.”

“I’m sorry; I still find it hard to believe that nothing happened with him.”

“Do you really find me that unbelievable?” I ask him.

“Oh, don’t try to put this on me. Just throw on the dress and get ready or whatever,” he replies in a  stiff voice.

“Daniel—“

I carefully remove my clothing and fold it into a pile, then I go through the difficult task of putting on an evening dress in the back seat of a limo.

“Daniel, can you zip me up?” I ask him.

He moves towards me and slowly zips my dress up. I turn around and look at him. There is something in that moment… some feeling that I cannot describe, when I see his beautiful face I just pull myself throw myself into his arms and kiss him.

“I think I might still be in love with you, Daniel,” I tell him as we make out in the back of the limo.

"EMMA, Emma! Get up right this second," a voice shouts at me from above. I look up to find myself in still in the limosine with Daniel shaking me and yelling at me to wake up. I must have fallen asleep. My dress is crumpled and my hair is a bit astrew so I adjust myself and smooth at my hair and look up at Daniel.

He was the type of guy that every girl dreamed about. Daniel was the sort of girl that was the focus of romance novels and childhood wedding fantasies. Even in his stance, thrown across the back of a limo and waking me up he still looks very regal. I've noticed that people who are raised a certain way have a certain walk, a stance that makes them stand out from the crowd. It helps that Daniel is quite tall... and attractive.

Daniel was absolutely gorgeous. That I could admit. He was one of the most beautiful men I had ever laid eyes on, sometimes it seemed like every time I see him he gets even more handsome. Is that even possible? For a man to become more like a god every time you see him. I remember being in school and hearing the whispers of the other girls about how incredibly attractive he was. How lucky so and so girl was to get into his pants. How they wanted to marry him and have babies with him. When I rejected his proposal nobody understood why I didn't do it. He was the perfect guy. He was charming, attractive, kind, caring, and patient. Who was I? Just some random girl who thought that she was above his level.