Waking up is always the hardest part. My phone buzzes about around 4 AM, that’s when Jo sends me the first text. It almost always reads “Morning.” to follow up with his text from the night before “Night, sleep tight.” I reply with a hazy mind. I shouldn’t be doing this, why am I? I shouldn’t be hurting myself like this. I battle with that until 5:30. By then I know I should start waking up. I swing my legs over the side of the four-foot long couch that I call a bed, attempting to gain a bit of momentum. I lift my heavy torso, and my foggy head. I sit for what seems like hours, but in reality is only a few minutes. I get up and begin my day. 5:40 Nutella waffles, 6 o’clock dressing, 6:15 internet, 6:30 wake up Grandpa, 6:40 crawl out the door and head to Starbucks. I walk into the Hipster-esque coffee shop and order two salted caramel fraps. One for me, and one for the old man. By this time it’s almost 7:05. I take the coffee, walking briskly to the bright red KIA minivan. Jump in and make my way to school.
Most days (almost all of them except Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays) are uneventful. But this was a Friday this was a good day. Well, almost, see we had a ribbon cutting to ceremoniously open a beautiful new building. It was nice, and there were some flying pigs, no biggy. But it was what happened after that, walking up to the Red Dragon with some of the people I chose to be associated with, that changed the day. I started seeing things, things that I couldn’t explain. Like how Jon’s smile curves up ever so slightly more on the left then the right, or how Sara can’t even mention Mr. Fedora without blushing. How all the boy’s flock together, or that people drift towards me. That’s rather presumptuous, but I think it’s true. It was starting to see why one might think that I was shining.
After the sudden epiphany, I went home, trying to explain to my mother what would happen that night. The night that was supposed to change everything. I told her that I wouldn’t be home ’till 9 o’clock, and that things were going to be wonderful. I jumped in my tiny shower, singing “Rolling in the Deep” like my name was Adele. Stepped out of the shower, towel turban in place, ready to be ready. I grabbed my war paint, and I threw on my armor. More like I tried on three different dresses before I decided that the dress I wore too 8th grade graduation would have to do. I was readying up for the biggest battle of my High School existence. My first dance. Lacing up my chucks like they were steel toe combat boots, I was almost ready, almost. I took up my little clutch like a weapon and shrugged on my blazer. Not too 50’s, but not so little that I didn’t match the theme. I jumped into the KIA again, rolling to the dance.
Getting there was terrible, I was scared, me! The one they call “The Brave Little Freshmen” I opened the door slowly, taking a moment to let my legs stop shaking, I knew I was going to have to pass a crowed of people, alone. It could have gone either way, I could have been laughed at (likely) or wolf whistled but neither happened. I got to the door of the M.P.R unsure of what to do next. Thank God Reina and her friends came up too me, I was beginning to shake again. We stood there talking for a long time. Then I started chasing Alex, up and down the stairs and elevators. My phone started to buzz around in its black silk confines. It was Jon. He didn’t know where the magic was happening. I waited in front of the school, where hundreds of us sat only hours before. He rolled up in some fancy Italian leather jacket, I laughed shortly, still feeling somewhat terrified. Nat came up to me and said the fated words “The dance is open.” Make it or Break it, Do or Die. I was the bravest little freshmen. I strutted up to the ticket desk, told them my glorious name and waited while they looked in the V’s until they realized I said Baugus, not Vargas. I waltzed in and looked around, random green LED’s lit the walls and a few odd dancers, one or two maybe. The room was dead. I walked outside, calling for Reina and her friends. They shuffled over awkwardly. When they finally met me at the little door, I had grabbed Reina’s wrist.
“Come dance with me!”
“No way, I don’t dance.”
It went on like this for another 30ish minutes, until I gave up. Then I noticed two wonderful girls making their way to our little group. Kat and Lilly walked over and hugged me tightly. We all knew that Jon, her crush, was at this very dance. She looked a little torn up, but she was having fun and that is what was important. Moving forward about an hour, the dance started to take shape. Myself finally feeling comfortable in the dimly lit room. LED’s flashing around the room, all of us moving and laughing.
It only got better as the night progressed, as more people filed into the tiny room we all danced more. Everyone danced together, no one was afraid to be themselves. As I danced around the room, looking at the writhing inhabitants, I couldn’t help but smile, this was my life. With boy’s off in other states, friends who couldn’t careless, and the magic to progressively worm my way into the hearts of everyone. I dance with Carla and Reina for what seemed like forever. I walked over to the wall and sat, dead tired and sweating like a flying pig. Carla went up to me and grabbed my hand,
“You can’t sit down, if you sit down it will be awkward.”
With a gentle push she sent me off into the crowd. I saw some seniors standing around in a circle talking, I went over and started flailing my arms in what I was hoping would be taken as dancing. With luck, and I’m sure some divine intervention, they started to dance as well. The night was becoming more and more wonderful with every little step or movement I unintentionally made. The night was winding down and the songs became more and more pop-y and lock-y. So I took the opportunity to sit down. After sitting for about 5 minutes, a boy came over to me. It could have been Brendon or Jake. I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t tell. Anyway, the boy asked me why I wasn’t dancing anymore. I responded accordingly.
“I don’t pop,lock, drop, or top.”
He laughed and said he couldn’t do my flailing jump step, well, he said he couldn’t do that dancing thing I was doing. I thought it was funny, he thought it was cool. Apparently I’m not as bad a dancer as I thought. At this point we were trying to teach each other dance styles, but right as he was going to break down and show me up. One Direction came on the loud-speaker. Kat hooked my arm with hers and dragged me out to the floor. I began dancing with a new ferocity. I wanted people to see how happy I was in my own skin. I think it worked.
My night was coming to a steady end, Lijah had just gotten there and wanted me to stay longer, but I couldn’t.
Like every great Cinderella story, the dress has to rip and the ugly step sister has to get her eye pecked out. Oh, and I had Grandpa waiting in the car.
