Sensual Politics

four

picture: betty's dress

04

four

Ofcourse, Betty didn't picture her mom dropping her off at school the night of her junior prom, but here she was. Physically, here she was. Mentally, not so much. Her mother nudged her from the driver's seat and gave her a look.

"Now you are going to enjoy the night, you understand? It doesn't matter if James isn't there. It's your day. You have come this far and you deserve it. With or without him."

She also never expected her mother to try to give an uplifting motivational speech, but nothing is going as expected tonight.

"I know," Betty whispered.

"I know you know. I'm just reminding you." Her mother rolled her eyes. She herself couldn't quite believe her energetic spark of a daughter was so diminished tonight. She kept on blabbering just to get Betty to speak. "Granted boys are a huge part of high school life, but everything doesn't revolve around them."

"I know, Mom. You don't have to do this."

"Okay." She sighed and tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, her eyes on Betty. "Show me that smile, then."

Betty lifted her lips a little.

"Bigger than that if you wanna get out of the car."

For her mother's sake, because she was trying so hard, Betty smiled. Her mom placed a hand on her shoulder and pecked her cheek. "I love you, kiddo."

"Ditto."

The school gym was unrecognizable. If Betty thought they couldn't one up the previous Winter Ball, this was unbeatable. Her eyes instantly hooked onto the gorgeous ceiling. The soft bright shade of lavender and white – their school colours – were nothing but prominent. The ceiling was adorned with swaying fabric in a circular fashion, on the centre of which hung a ginormous glittery chandelier. On one side, an array of refreshments and drinks were served, while the majority of the space in the middle was left bare for dancing. A high makeshift stage took up the front portion, overlooking about a dozen sets of dining tables and chairs.

But what lifted her spirits was the indistinct but loud chatter of the crowd, the spot lights dancing gracefully over them, a song she didn't recognize blasting through the speakers and the amount of spark and excitement. She took in everyone's outfits in one long glance, admiring all the ball gowns and sharp suits. Subconsciously, her hand smoothed out the hem of her own short dress that she secretly adored. She found the shimmering dress a few weeks ago and it was love at first sight. A light peach, knee-length backless, pleated net that shone to no ends. She knew she had to save it for an occasion. A part of her sunk when she realised he would never see her in it today. But she focused on her surroundings again and the thought was gone.

The night was too pretty to be wallowing in self pity.

"Fuck James," she whispered to herself as she blended in the night.

~•~

The cacophonous sounds reverberated around James' head as he pushed the controls of his Play Station a little too hard. Taking out his frustration on the small piece of device was no good. It only increased the risk of damage for the poor joystick, and made him lose yet another match.

"Urgh!" He yanked out the headset and threw it on the couch next to him. Leaning on the head rest, his fingers combed his hair in an attempt to sooth the oncoming headache. He shut his eyes and tried not to picture Betty at the dance.