The Rise and Falls of Melody Wilson

Part 11

 

It was just after eight when we finally arrived back at the Old Gym for the Halloween dance. I tugged the flowing flower printed skirt down, hoping it was covering the majority of my thighs. I could not believe I let Mariah convince me to leave the house in this get-up. I was not big on the idea of dressing up for a Halloween dance, even though some other kids were more than willing to walk around as Betty Boop or maybe even a mummy. So instead, I had let Mariah pick out some clothes from her own closet, most of which consisted of dresses, skirts, or pink and flower printed items. The silky, dark colored flower print skirt and long sleeved white V-neck ensemble was the most toned down outfit I could pick out.

I pulled at the hem of the dress again and Maria grabbed my arm as we walked up to the large building, "Would you please stop doing that? You look fine!" Mariah commented as we reached the front door, she let go of my hand and pushed open the door. Immediately we were hit with loud, but good sounding, music. I ran a hand through my incredibly soft wavy hair, three rounds of Mariah's great shampoo, my hair smelt amazing, and it was as soft as a down feather.

We made our way through the front entrance, a medium sized room that was carpeted with a nice tan colored rug and a few small couches, to the “ballroom.” The main room was bustling with students dressed up in different outfits, some in just a dress, while others decked out in crazy costumes.

We went around the perimeter of the room, heading straight for the tables that were now full of many different trays of food and a punch bowl sat at each end of every table.  I felt myself looking around for something, someone… Andrew. I clasped my hands together anxiously at the thought of having him here at our schools function. It was possible since our school let people from other schools come to our dances and other events. As long as they signed some permission form and had it turned in.

      “Who are you looking for?” Mariah asked as we stood at the other end of the room.

I swiveled to look back at her “Uh… No one,” I replied lamely, “Just checking the place out.”

Mariah grabbed my arm “Well come on, let’s see if anyone needs help with anything.” She tugged me behind her as she made her way over to a corner where a group of people was standing around.

Trying to dodge clumps of talking people isn’t a very easy task to do when you’re being pulled behind someone while you’re wearing white wedged heels.

Just as I was about to mention my aching feet to Mariah, we reached the group and I let out a sigh of relief. My sigh of relief almost instantaneously turned a low groan when Alicia announced that she was in dire need of someone to run and get things for her and that we were the perfect people to do the job; probably because we were the only ones who were not piled up with jobs already.

I avoided Mariah’s grabbing hand and instead painfully walked next to her as we made our way out of the ballroom and into the hall. “You realize that we only have about an hour left?” I told Mariah as I looked up at the clock that now read nine o’clock.

She shrugged “I know. At least we came,” She offered half-heartedly as we turned and went down another hall that led to one of the main supply closets. We were supposed to be getting some extra cups, mini-plates and drinks to refill the punch bowl.

Mariah located the storage room "You grab the cups and that bottle of pop. I'll grab the punch and some plates," she ordered when we went in.

"These shoes are killing me. I think I already have a bunch of blisters taking over my feet." I moaned grabbing the cups and tucking them under my one arm, "Note to self; never let Mariah pick my clothes. Or shoes."

"Well you should have brought your own." She remarked picking up the bag of plastic plates with her free arm.

I moved away to stand at the door, shifting from aching foot to aching foot. Wearing heels, even small ones, was not a very common thing for my feet and they protested furiously whenever I did wear them. Mariah finally came out the room and we made our way to the ballroom.

"Isn't this fun?" she asked, as we both poured the contents of our bottles into the large punch bowl.

"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically "Getting juice and pouring it into a punch bowl? Highlight of my night. I can't wait for what’s next!" We tossed the empty bottles into the trashcan next to the table and moved down to put the plates on it.

 "Well I have just the thing," She smiled falsely. "Alicia told me when we were coming in here that they needed more food on some of the tables, and guess who she picked to carry out her orders?"

"Bob and Michelle?" I offered random names.

Mariah shook her head, crunching the plastic wrappers in her hands "Nope. Us."

"Yay. I'm so excited; I've been waiting all night for this." I muttered.

We tossed the wrappers in the trash as we went out the ballroom, once again.

"Are you alright?" Mariah asked me once we reached the hallway, "You seem extra snappy lately."

I shrugged trying to pass as nonchalant "Just tired. Riley's been coming in and out at crazy times and my mom’s not doing to great either."

She gave me a small lopsided smile as we turned into the hall near the kitchen.

"I'll meet you in a sec. My feet are hurting like crazy." I said pausing to lean against a small table stand in the hallway. She nodded and continued down the hallway and in through swinging doors to the kitchen.

With a heavy sigh, I ran a hand through my hair, again marveling at its ridiculous softness, and bent over to pull off my heels. It was as I was pulling off my left shoe, the other in my hand that was gripping the table for balance that I heard: "This is a new twist. Cinderella takes off her shoes, instead of her losing it as she makes her great escape from the ballroom."

"You have got to be kidding me..." I muttered.