God Save the Prom Queen

The Big Finale

I woke up on Saturday morning with a wave of emotions flooding through me. I was nervous, to be sure, but I predominantly felt excitement.

Prom is tonight.

I was quick about getting through my chores, and I moved so quickly in the shower that I logically should've slipped. But there was no time for medical emergencies; I had a dance to get ready for.

I filled a large tote bag with several things I would need at Hannah's house. After tossing in my favorite perfume and a few cosmetics, I set my shoes inside the bag, then carefully folded my dress and laid it on top of everything.

Practically waltzing through the kitchen, I said goodbye to my parents and siblings. Since I would be getting ready at Hannah's house, they wouldn't be able to see the finished product of my transformation until after prom was over, but I'd promised that we would take an abundance of pictures anyway.

Before I left, my Dad hugged me and patted my back. "No matter what happens tonight, you're always going to be my princess."

I smiled and squeezed him tightly. "Thanks, Dad."

Within minutes, I was on the road toward Hannah's house. When I arrived there, I noticed that Hannah's red car had been recently washed and possibly even polished. She really was determined to make sure our senior prom went off without a hitch.

After listening to my friend admonish me for a moment about how I should have showed up earlier, I followed Hannah down the hall and into her room. It looked as if she'd tried to keep it clean, but had given up while in the pursuit of everything she would need for that night. A wild assortment of makeup was splayed all over the dresser she used as a vanity, random shoes dotted the floor, and it looked as if there had recently been some kind of glitter explosion.

"Why is everything all sparkly?" I asked.

"I had glitter on my nightstand yesterday, and Watson came in here and knocked it over," she replied, referring to her demonic cat.

Hannah plugged in her curling iron and instructed me to sit in the chair beside her dresser while she gathered copious amounts of makeup. One by one, she placed small bottles, tubes, compacts, and trays before me.

"I'm totally okay with letting you do my makeup," I told her, "but I don't want to look like I just walked down the red carpet. All right?"

"Believe me, we'll only use about a quarter of this stuff," she reassured me. "I just thought I'd throw it all out so I could see all of my options at once."

My phone rang from inside the pocket of my jeans. I took it out and, seeing that it was David calling, lifted it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Prom Queen," he said. "What's up?"

"Well, hopefully I'm not about to get my hair fried off," I replied. "What's up with you?"

"Not much. Just destroying Jake in Call of Duty."

In the background, I heard Jake grumble, "Would you stop flirting and pay attention?"

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" I asked David.

"Chloe, prom doesn't start for another five hours. Five. Hours. I don't know why you girls need that much time to get ready, but it will literally take me twenty minutes."