Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
But tonight’s not the night. Tonight, we’re going to par-tay, and Sam is coming over to get ready together. Just then, the doorbell rings and I scamper downstairs. It must be her.
Sure enough, it’s my best friend in sweatpants with a dress bag in her hands.
“You ready?” she burbles while stepping inside. "I’m really excited we’re doing this and it’s like a rite of passage," she says. "I mean, what would high school be without Prom?’ she asks as we ascend the stairs to my room.
“I know, right?” I ask with a smile. “I’m so excited it’s insane.”
Sam giggles.
“Plus, I’m glad we’re both going without dates. We’re each other’s dates,” she says with a smile. “Okay now: dresses or make-up first?"
"Make-up,” I say confidently. “Definitely, so we don’t spill cosmetics on our outfits by accident.”
I lay out what I have for make-up on my vanity and then tell Sam to sit.
“Okay, so what do you think about a red lip and a clean eye?” I ask, scrutinizing my friend’s pretty features. “Your dress is red, right? So it’d match.”
She nods but then says, “Hon, I think I need a red lip and a smoky eye. I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not overdoing things because it’s going to be dark in the gym. This is the time for heavy make-up.”
I giggle because she’s probably right, and I get to work. I’ve always enjoyed cosmetics, and the artistry comes naturally to me, if I do say so myself. Soon, Sam’s face is done and she stares at herself with satisfaction in the mirror.
“This is amazing,” she breathes. “You’re a natural, Mags.”
I giggle.
“Thank you! Now let’s just see if I can do the same for myself.” To be honest, despite my love for cosmetics, I don’t paint my face very often, and so my preferred look is natural. I apply pink gloss and some eyeliner and mascara, but nothing too crazy.
“You sure?” Sam asks, looking at my reflection in the mirror. “You don’t want something more dramatic?”
I shake my head.
“No, this is good,” I giggle. After all, I know Ed doesn’t like heavy make-up either, and this look will suit him fine.
After we’re done with our make-up, I tell Sam to sit, and then I plug in the curling iron. Sam’s hair is shoulder length, so it’s tricky to get it into a bun, but I manage. We both end up with hair swooped to the top in elaborate plaits with tendrils going down the sides.
“Wow,” my friend muses, nodding at our reflections. “We are two hot mamas!”
I giggle because actually, I’m going to be a mama soon and she just doesn’t know. But then we step into our dresses. Mine is a slinky purple number that hugs my curves and makes me feel sexy. It’s also shorter than I usually like, but I appreciate the way it shows off my legs.
When I go to help Sam zip up her dress, a battle between the zipper and Sam’s torso ensues, but after a valiant fight, the zipper goes up and she’s poured into her dress. I tell Sam how much I love her outfit, with genuine admiration in my eyes.
“The red color is fantastic,” I say.
She giggles while smoothing her hands down the sides.
“You don’t think it makes me look slutty, do you?” she asks.
I laugh.
“Girl, that outfit definitely makes you look slutty, but that’s the best part!”
We both whoop with glee, and then slip into our matching four-inch heels. I fasten the diamanté straps across the bridge of my foot before reaching for my slippers.
"Why are you bringing those?" Sam asks.
"You didn’t think I was going to drive in these, did you?" I say, lifting my foot with the four-inch heels in the air.
"Oh," Sam says. "Good thinking. This event is too important to miss because of a car accident."
With that, we get into my vehicle and I make the short drive to Cedar Toms High. When we enter the gymnasium, the lights are low and the music is pumping loudly already. It’s dark except for some sort of light show that bounces off the walls and ceiling, sending sparkles all over. On one side of the room, there’s a long table of food with the requisite bowl of punch that’s probably already been spiked. On the other side, there’s a DJ. In the middle there’s a floor full of dancers writhing about even though it’s still early in the night.
A few folks we know are already showing off their moves and there are people standing against the far wall, gossiping no doubt. How can they hear each other? Nonetheless, everyone’s gotten gussied up and the outfits are great. The boys look like penguins in their tuxes, and the girls are outdoing each other for sluttiest skank. My fave.
“Mags, this is going to be fun,” Sam says in an excited voice while squeezing my hand. “I wonder if Brandon Landon is here. You know, the guy who’s the center on the basketball team?”