Top of the World (War romance story)

Chapter Three

It feels like it's been a year since I've posted. I've been so busy lately. Who knew my last year of high school would be this darn stressful? Plus, I was in New York for the past week, and I was greatly inspired! Anyway, I sincerely hope (somebody) is reading this and enjoying it. Here's the long awaited chapter three, where it actually starts to get interesting. REMEMBER: I'm no writer. I simply do this for fun, and to better myself in terms of writing. It's for pure entertainment! Anyway, enjoy. Super long chapter, so I hope you don't mind. :)

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Abby

Monday, 15 May, 1939

I had completely forgotten about my little chat with Lorraine. The one where I reluctantly agreed to accompany her to a dance this evening, which sounded completely absurd and dreadful, yet I could not quite understand why I felt a wee bit excited, with almost a sense of relief, fluttering around my stomach.

My dress lay flat, ironed and pressed, draped over the back of my desk chair. A polished pair of white dancing shoes sat at the foot of my bed, and a new sweater, white in color, with buttons running down the front, was there to tie the ensemble together. I couldn't remember a time within the past year that I had gotten dolled up for anything special other than church, and the school's graduation earlier this month.

At breakfast, when my family was clustered around the table, I decided to tell them the news. Just as Dottie poured my mother a new cup of fresh tea, I placed my own cup down on the table, and clasped my hands together.

"I think you'll all be pleased to hear," I began my announcement, sitting pin straight with a faint grin on my face, "that I have plans this evening."

My mother and father exchanged a glance over the length of the mahogany table. Their mouths were slightly ajar, and their eyes twinkled with a glimmer of hope. I let out a quiet sigh, and felt my shoulders sink. "Well... are you going to say anything?" I edged on.

"I'm sorry... I'm a little surprised, that's all." My mother retorted. Her nose was scrunched up, and her eyebrows were shot upward. My father's facial expression was a little more relaxed and eased, and once he broke his gaze with my mother, he focused in on me, and smiled.

"That's great, Abigail. That's good." His answer wasn't pushed. I smiled at him, and looked down towards my plate.

"Lorraine came up to me as I was walking," I proceeded to explain, "and she convinced me to go." I picked at my eggs, not particularly feeling hungry. "I'm a little nervous, though." I muttered the last part.

"Oh, stop with that talk," My mother cut in, "you're a charming young lady. I'm sure you'll have a great time. Now, what is it that you're doing, exactly?" Her voice was always a little pushier in contrast to my father's.

"A dance hall, downtown." 

"A dance hall?" She asked, pursing her lips together, like she had sucked on a piece of sour candy.

"It'll be a great way to socialize!" My father added. His eyes were jubilant, sparkling within their dark brown contours. "I think it's splendid. Your mother and I used to go to dances all the time. The dance hall was a favorite of ours...wasn't it, Helen?"

"Hm," She muttered, "I suppose."

"What's the matter with it? You've been pushing me to leave the house for months... years, actually, and now that I'm actually going, you act as if it's a crime? What can I do to please you, mother? After all, that's what I've been trying to do my entire life." I had boiled over, and was now steaming with anger. I wasn't a particularly angry person, but when pushed to my limits, I snapped under pressure like a rubber band.