June 30th, 2010 | 
Author: Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Prom Girl
(Part One) Copyright 1990 by Leigh De Santa Fe
It was probably the most nerve-wracking night of Stephen's life. For two weeks he had suffered and agonized over the decision to ask Francesca Esposito to the Mushroom Prom. She had occupied his thoughts constantly from the moment he first laid his eyes on her abundant black hair and her lovely olive skin. Of course she was lovely but she was also an interesting compendium of seemingly contradictory qualities. On the one hand she was extraordinarily bright, a straight A student who maneuvered through difficult courses without any trouble and on the other she was wanton and wild, wearing the most tempting clothing and using make-up in a way that belied her years. When he first saw her it was from the back and her long curly hair fell down her back in big frothy waves which then directed his eyes to her lovely buttocks, squeezed into jeans that held her like a second skin. He followed her down the hall while she chatted vivaciously with her friend, finally turning and dazzling him with her lovely features femininely framed in soft black curls. His heart melted. She was beautiful. Finally Stephen approached her after math class. She looked at him incredulously for a brief moment and then she gave him a sly smile and said, "Yes, I'll go but I know my mother will want to meet you before you take me out. Can you come by next Wednesday night around 4:00 or so." He was ecstatic and this simple hurdle was an easy and even joyful undertaking. He would get to spend even more time with the radiant Francesca. As he approached the house his heart was dancing under his tongue. He would be near her and away from the cruel peers that shaped their rigid roles in school. Now he could show her himself and she would revel in his intelligence and quiet wit. He knocked and after a long pause the door opened a crack. Francesca's face appeared out of breath. He began to sweat and his mouth went dry. "Can you wait for a moment," she said coyly, "I'm not dressed." He blushed and she laughed and disappeared behind the closing door. A full ten minutes later she opened the door and let him in. She was wearing a pink sweatsuit which she managed to turn into a ravishing garment. "I've been trying to sew my dress for the Snowball Prom," she explained. "It's so hard to know when things are the right length unless you wear them and so I've been trying the dress on and changing the hem and trying it on again and well, I never seem to get it right." "It's hard I guess," his sterling tongue divulged. "Hard isn't the word. It's impossible." She looked at him and smiled. He looked down at his feet. "Say, I have an idea," she laughed. "Are you very brave?"
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