Short Romance Stories

Prom

"Soph, if you don't sit still, I'm quitting."

Knowing Avery wasn't joking, I settled for wringing my hands nervously. My best friend was currently trying to do my hair, but I was too nervous to sit still.

Prom.

The word rang in my head with unnatural intensity.

The dress picked out, the makeup set, the nails painted, all that remained was my hair. After fishtail braiding one side, Avery pulled it all together into a loose bun, curling all extra strands and spraying everything in place with half a can of hairspray.

"Are we done yet?" I whined. "Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful for your help, but it seems like I've been sitting in this chair for like, six hours"

"I'd be done if you would stop fidgeting." She retorted. I heard her add under her breath, "besides, it's only been three."

3,000 years later, Avery announced me as finished. 

I squealed, looking at my completed look in the mirror.

"I'll admit, I did a good job."

I rolled my eyes at her, but then consented and nodded vigorously. "This is going to be great. I'm so glad I get to go with one of my closest friends. Who needs boyfriends?"

Avery shook her head. "You know he's in love with you, right?"

I frowned. "Who?"

Avery only shook her head again. I went to repeat my question but, the doorbell rang. 

"Leo!" I shout, jumping out of my chair. 

I met him at the door, slightly winded. 

"Hi," he breathed, "you look..." His voice trailed off. 

"Oh stop," I grinned. "You're totally exaggerating."

He blinked and looked surprised.

"No, really, Sophie. I think-"

"Sophia!" 

I held a finger up, stopping him mid-sentence. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Sophi-" Mom called again before rounding the corner. "Oh, hello, Leo. My. Don't you look sharp? Come," she motioned to a spot beside the stairs, holding up her phone. "I need pictures of my baby and her date."

"Mom!" I cried, slightly embarrassed. "Leo's my friend. We're not dating."

I turned to Leo to mouth sorry but noticed a forlorn look in his eyes. I raised my eyebrows at him. He just shook his head, shrugging whatever it was off.

Mom still got her way. We posed in a friendly side hug.

I looked at the picture and could not resist another squeal.

My dress was a nude pink, empire waisted, halter top that went right up to the neck with the straps crossing in the back. The skirt clung tightly, but not too tight, to my hips and thighs then traveled downward with a slight flare starting at the knee. It also had a small train; long enough to give a sense of regalness but not too long that I'd be tripping over it while dancing.

I looked over to Mom to see a tear trail down her cheek. Quickly, she wiped it away. I walked over to her, awkwardly patting her on the back. I suck at comforting, I know, but at least I tried.

"You're just growing up so fast. I remember bringing you home from the hospital. You were- Oh, you don't want to listen to my stories. Go" She shooed us towards the door. "Stay safe, and have fun."