PROM: Part 2

"All you need is for one person to think you're cool, and you're in.  Everyone else will be scared to question it."
- Never Been Kissed, 1999

Gibby, Kirsten, and Kristen, from the movie Never Been Kissed look a LOT like the
Maybellines that we all know and occasionally get along with: Jessica, Haley, and Demi.

            I feel that prom is a big enough night that it deserves to be split into two seperate notes.  So if you want the whole story, read my last note.  Or enjoy my short and sweet recap.
           
           When we went back inside, the DJ had put on Beyonce's Single Ladies, as a bit of a "tip of the hat" to all the people that had been excluded from the last song or two.  My friends and I practically ran to the dance floor; this was our song!  I found myself dancing next to one of the Maybellines, Demi, knowing full well that she was NOT a single lady.  But I put that aside and tried to enjoy myself... until my foot got caught on something.  I looked down, and what I found changed the course of the dance for the remainder of the night.

            Demi was dancing in her, I kid you not, turquoise zebra-striped strapless dress that had been barfed on by a Bedazzler.  One of the things that amazes me about the Maybellines, other than their overuse of both eyeliner and bad attitudes, is the fact that they can go anywhere and come back with a new boyfriend.  Whether it is Math class, a field trip to the science museum, or prom, they always manage to meet a new “friend”.  Which brings up the question: why was Demi dancing to Single Ladies?  Possibly advertising that she was "on the market"?  Who knows.  Who cared?  I tried to ignore her and have a good time.

            But when I felt my foot catch on something, I leaned down and picked it up.  It was a clump of bleach-blond hair.  I looked slowly from the tuft of hair in my hand to the Maybelline next to me, matching the colors.  I noticed that her hair was less poufy than it had been twenty minutes ago.  I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Oh my gosh.

She was wearing fake hair.

            Being the nice person I am, I decided not to throw it in the air for the world to see.  (Although, it would have been something to talk about for reunions to come.)  Instead, I whispered in her ear and handed it to her.  Her blushing face somehow shone through the pancake layer of makeup she had on as she threw it away from the dance floor, like something that had been snaked out of the shower drain, not wanting anything to do with it.  And for whatever reason, she wouldn’t leave me alone for the rest of the night.  As the Godfather says, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."  Maybe she didn't want to give me the chance to share her secret... however, she doesn't know that I have a blog.  (Ha!)  She even tried to copy my dancing, which led her lemming friends to copy her... you know, because eyeshadow comes in packs of three.  And when other people saw the three most popular girls in school dancing like that, they too started doing the Grace Kent.

It was awesome.

            When prom ended, Demi was still dancing next to me.  Her BFF Haley ran over to us, looking guilty and wringing her hands, exclaiming “Oh my gosh, I just made out with Dylan!”

            Let me give a little background on this.  At our small school, Dylan is the guy who most all of the girls had a little crush on in the beginning of the year… until we all realized that he was a jerk.  He always walks around surrounded by girls of all ages, but it is usually Jessica, Haley, and Demi.  They have all dated him at one time or another, but we never know which one he is going out with currently.  It appears like he treats them all equally, so as to not lose anybody.  If he holds hands with one, he holds hands with the other two.  The part that I don’t understand is that they all seem to be perfectly fine with it, and they are all best friends.

            But I was pretty sure he was “officially” dating Demi last Friday.

            So when Haley walked up to Demi and I, the former being her best friend, Demi surprised me by not getting upset with Haley, but seething, “I’m going to kill him!”

            And at that moment, my phone vibrated.  My parents were here, waiting outside to give me a ride home.  I said goodbye to everyone and got into the car.

            And we drove home.

            I reflected on the night’s events: 

1. my dancing (and possible new popularity?!) 
2. Sneed's invitation 
3. And of course, the newfound Demi-Dylan-Haley love triangle

And I wondered if anything would be different, walking into first period on Monday morning.

iAhora, bailamos!

Bailamos en la clase de Espanol.

(Or, we dance in Spanish class.)

I don't know why.  

I don't know whose idea this was. 

I don't know who benefits from this. 

But today, Senora Goldstein decided that our Intro to Spanish class needed to know how to dance before prom on Saturday.

She lectured us about how sad it was that our generation doesn’t know how to dance, in her opinion.  She interrupted her own class time, and told us all to stand up, with guys on one side of the room and girls on the other.  She can be a bit loca sometimes, so we were pretty sure she was joking.  Unfortunately, she wasn't.



While the girls were, for the most part, extremely excited,
the boys looked ready to walk to their own funerals.

 

I stood next to my best friend, Kelsey, looking down at my feet.  I'm not shy, but I certainly did NOT want to dance with any of my amigos.  We then entered the World of Awkward, as I looked up and saw my friend Evan standing across from me, my dancing partner.

Senora Goldstein found a YouTube song (in Spanish, of course), and showed us what we were going to do.  She was so excited... I felt a little bad for being such a teenager, standing sullenly with my arms crossed.  She put her left foot forward, brought it back in, and put her right foot back.  Easy enough.  We all copied her. 

Then she wanted to show us how to do the same thing with our partners.  She asked for a volunteer, and ended up with her arms around Sneed (officially Cody Sneed), slow dancing with him around the Spanish classroom.

Sneed, who really does have red hair, sweeping Senora Goldstein off her feet... kinda.

              Senora Goldstein put Sneed's hand behind her back, put her own hand on his shoulder, then held his free hand, as they salsad (salsaed?  salsaid?  past-tense of salsa.) around the room.  He looked like he could have thrown up.
            While Evan and I awkwardly tried to imitate the happy couple, many others were actually getting into it.  Senora Goldstein had said that we didn't actually have to hold hands if we didn't want to, which we didn't.  That may have made things more difficult, but we didn't really care too much.  One of the Maybellines, Jessica, danced near me with her boyfriend, perfectly.  I have always had two left feet, and kept apologizing to my friend for stepping on his feet.  Jessica saw me struggling, rolled her eyes, and dropped her partner's hand to try to teach me.  She shoved Evan out of the way, grabbed my hand, and danced with me.  I know she was trying to help, but honestly, I don't think anything could have worked.  When she thought I had it, she relocated Evan, and put us in the same position as Senora Goldstein and Sneed, hands together.  (And I must say, I'm glad I'm not the only one with sweaty palms.)
           I don't know how long we danced like that, but I can tell you, I am not any more prepared for dancing at prom than I am for running the marathon.  Now, I just have to hope that Senora Goldstein won't grade us on our dancing skills.
          The next time I write a note, it will definitely be about the happenings at prom, which is on Saturday.  So there's something to look forward to!

Teacher's coming, so I'm folding the note up.  Please pass it on!
Grace Kent

Taking Attendance

There is so much to tell, I don't know where to start.

So let's start with me!  My name is Grace Kent and I am a freshman at a very small school in the Pacific Northwest.  I am not the most popular girl in school, but I don't sit quietly in the back of the room either.  (I've actually gotten in trouble for talking in class, on more than one occasion.)  I am very good at languages and very bad at Biology.  I really like school.  So much so, I feel the need to share my high school stories with whoever will listen, which I guess, in this case, is you!

My vocab word for this week is "eccentric".  It means "not conventional; a little kooky; irregular".  My classmates are eccentric. 

My best friend Kelsey is the loudest, nicest, and most fun person in the world.  We've known each other since we were in 6th grade, and we do everything together.  And, of course, I have to tell you about Sneed.  His full name is Cody Sneed, but we all just call him Sneed.  There is an unspoken consensus that he will one day grow up to be either the head of the Secret Service, or the country's most wanted serial killer, but for now, he's just my locker buddy.  I don't have any "arch enemies", but I try to steer clear from the Maybellines.  You know, they're those girls who are 16 going on 30, wearing too much makeup and trying to be all that and a bag of chips.  And fortunately for my Biology grades, Jean, the smartest girl in our grade, is my bus buddy.  We sit together on the drive to school, where she helps me with my homework.

And then there's my principal.

When you look up the definition of "intimidating", you should see a picture of my principal.  She is Irish, with red hair and a temper to match.  Her name is Ms. O'Flaherty, but we all call her The Flare.  Like the flare of dynamite.

Well, I have to go now; I think the teacher is collecting our math homework.  In my next note, I'll tell you about what happened the first time I got called in to The Flare's office.

Teacher's coming, so I'm folding the note up.  Please pass it on!
Grace Kent