Prom Wear
     It all began because I was late.  Well, maybe it didn't actually begin there, but it certainly made things worse.  Not that we needed the help, of course.  We had done a splendid job of making the evening a difficult one all by ourselves.
     I honestly don't know why Adam and I went to the prom.  It wasn't as though we were welcome there or anything, although it really belonged to us just as much as it did to the football players and the cheerleaders, the high school heroes of this stupid Texas town.  I suppose we just thought, well,  maybe we can show them.  Maybe they'll see they can't intimidate us.
     Or maybe we were just crazy.
     Gran lent me her car on prom night so I could pick up Adam.  Normally he would have driven us, but some fucks from the football team had trashed his car the month before.  Told him it served him right.  And his dad yelled at him for it, and wouldn't let him press charges.  Asked him what the hell did he expect, anyway, being the way he was.  That he couldn't blame those jocks.  He made Adam pay for the damages himself, which meant he had to use all his money from his stupid McDonald's job for that, instead of his prom outfit.
     I pulled up in front of Adam's house that night with no idea of what he'd be wearing.  Well, I mean, I had the basic idea.  We'd worked all that out beforehand.  But I didn't know what exactly I'd see when he opened the door.  I turned off the engine of Gran's old Cadillac and opened the driver's side door, then leaned back in to check my hair one last time in the rearview mirror.
     Perfect.  The new haircut worked, though I dreaded to think what Adam's mother would have to say about the subject.  She was very vocal about her dislike of shorter hair on girls.  Said it made them look "unfeminine."
     A quick glance at the driveway, however, assured me that I wouldn't have to listen to a tirade about femininity that night.  Both the father's and the mother's cars were absent, though I did note that Amber's car was in the driveway.  That was a relief.  Maybe Adam's sister had helped him find something to wear.
     I sauntered up to the door, trying hard to appear nonchalant in my unfamiiar garb.  Prom wear was a whole new experience for me.
     I rang the doorbell.  Seconds later, there was a patter of swift footsteps, which ended on the other side of the door before it was flung open to reveal Amber in all her short, fiery-haired glory.  Seeing her is always a trip for me because she looks so much like Adam, though he's taller, and his hair's shorter.  Her dark blue eyes twinkled mischeivously in the porch light's weak glow.
     "Katie!" she exclaimed gleefully.  "I love your outfit!  Come on in!  Adam's still changing!  Can you believe that?  He's been at it for an hour now!  Come on, I'll get you a soda!"  And, as I stood, stunned (as usual) by the sheer force of Amber's chatter, she grabbed my unresisting hand and pulled me inside.
     I suppose I was wrong to say that the trouble started because I was late; I cold have been a lot later and still had to wait for Adam.  He took his sweet time getting ready, let me tell you.  I think he has this mental block that requires him to always be fashionably late.
     Amber left me on the couch in the living room while she went to get me a soda.  I didn't really want one, but she insisted, and it's hard to argue with someone who's already half-way through the door to the kitchen.
     "All we have is Pepsi," she called from the kitchen.  "Ice or no ice?"
     "Ice," I hazarded randomly, not really listening.  I wasn't really up to thinking about soda just then.  I wished Adam would hurry up so that we could go.  All the waiting was making me nervous.
     Amber returned with two Pepsis on ice.  I took mine with a nod of thanks.
     Settling herself into the fat armchair beside the couch, Amber leaned towards me conspiratorially.  I'm so glad you guys decided to do this.  It'll be great, you'll see."  She knew I was nervous.
     I shrugged.  "Dunno.  I guess so."  I really wasn't paying attention: I was too worried.  What was Adam going to wear? Did he have anything at all?
     Amber must be psychic or something, because the next thing out of her mouth was, "I loaned him the cash to buy an outfit."
     That got my attention.  "You did?"
     "Yeah.  And I took him to Silverman's department store to find something...suitable...for the occasion."  Her eyes twinkled with delight.  "It took Adam ages to decide on what he wanted to buy.  You  know him."  She rolled her eyes dramatically at me and grinned.
     "So, anyway," she went on, "once he found something that he claimed he could tolerate, we couldn't find it in his size.  So we found a sales girl and asked her if they had any more in the back.  And get this, she looked me up and down, looked at the size six Adam was holding, and said that it looked like that size would fit me, and wouldn't I like to try it on first?"  She laughed.
     I grinned.  "Did-"
     I was interrupted by a certain someone smugly clearing his throat from the direction of the stairs.
     Adam stood about half-way up the staircase.  His outfit was perfect in every way.  I slammed my Pepsi glass down on the table, and, deciding that going around was a waste of time, vaulted the couch. Taking the stairs two at a time, I ran up to where he stood.  I took the last few steps to him in a leap, and embraced him with savage delight, nearly tumbling both of us down to the bottom.  I was positively incoherent with glee.  "You look perfect! Absolutely perfect!  The clothes are wondeful--this will be wonderful!  It'll show them, won't it?  Won't it?"  The words came out of me in a rush.  I was too excited to stop them. 
     Adam laughed, and gently but firmly pushed my hands off of him.  "You're going to ruin my outfit, grabbing on like that, Dearest," he admonished me with mock severity, the little twinkle in his eyes betraying his delight in my response.  He smoothed his clothes fussily.  When he was finally satisfied that his clothes weren't ruined, he took my shoulders and backed me down one stair so he could examine my new haircut.  Laughing softly, he brushed a hand over the little hair that remained.  "This is very cute," he said with satisfaction.  "Don't we make a fabulous pair?"
     Amber, who had been watching us with great amusement (judging by the silly grin on her face), suddenly jumped from her chair and ran for the kitchen.  We followed her as far as the bottom of the stairs.
     "What are you doing now, strange one?" Adam called after her.
     "Just a minute?  I almost forgot?  You'll love this?"
     When she returjed to the room a few seconds later, her hands were held carefully behind her back.  With a flouish, she brought out a fancy corsage--the perfect final touch.
     After the pinning of the corsage (which offered a lot of trouble because none of us knew exactly how it was supposed to be done) I offered Adam my arm, and we escorted each other out to the car, where I opened the passenger's dide door for him whle Amber laughed on the porch.
     "Bye, Loves!  Have fun!"  She waved as I hopped into the car, and I waved back as we drove off.  Adam didn't; he was too busy checking the mirror for the last niute flaws in his appearance.   Continued...
By Stephanie Chichester, CA
2003 KarMel Scholarship Entry