Great Expectations

"I'll love you with all the madness in my soul." - Bruce Springsteen

My hair was curled and pulled back on top of my head. My nails were done in a perfect French manicure, my make-up neatly applied and my purse filled with the only things I’d need: lip gloss, tissues, and my cell phone. My dress was simple – dark purple fabric flowing to the floor, draped in a Grecian style. My mother decided a typical debutante dress was too predictable, and that I needed something more sophisticated and less pouffy.

I walked slowly down the stairs, my heels clicking audibly in the empty house. My parents had left already, my mother giving me the simple instructions to “be good and don’t make a fool of yourself.” I didn’t want to trip over the hem of my dress, so I paused on every stair. I might have looked ridiculous, but there was a much smaller chance that I would fall to the bottom of the stairs and break my leg.

As I reached the floor, the doorbell rang, echoing through the house. I walked to the door, pulling my dress away from my dangerously spiky heels. When I opened the door, Dean grinned broadly. I had never seen him wearing anything other than jeans and a t-shirt, but the tuxedo he wore tonight was a brilliant change. I smiled at him, the ability to form words temporarily out of my mind.

“Ready to go?” he asked, offering me his arm.

“Yes,” I replied, taking his arm and stepping out of the house. I closed the door behind me, leaving my parents’ expectations behind. I was finally discovering what it meant to be free, to truly be myself and not care what the world thought of me. Tonight I would be officially presented to society, and I didn’t care at all what anyone thought of me. I didn’t plan on going completely insane, but I wasn’t going to watch every step I made, either.

“You look great,” he said as I got into his dad’s Corvette.

“Thanks.” I was unable to stop the smile from spreading across my face. “So do you.”

When I first met him, I thought I hated Dean Montague. I never wanted to see his stupid grin or his bright red motorcycle again. I didn’t want to hear his voice; I wanted to cry when we were lab partners in physics and to scream when we had to work on that English project together. A few months ago, I thought Dean Montague was public enemy number one, and I was perfectly content to never talk to him as long as I lived. But tonight, I never wanted him to stop smiling at me.

And I would never forget those words he told me: we have to make ourselves happy. I would do what my parents wanted; I would do school projects and follow the rules. But every once in a while, I’d jump on the back of Dean’s motorcycle and not even know where we’d go. I’d go off on an adventure and not stop smiling because I was making myself happy. Tonight, that’s all that mattered.

Dean grinned at me as he pulled into a parking spot at the country club. We got out of the car and he kissed me in the middle of the parking lot. Tonight would be perfect – nobody would bring me down. Nobody would bring us down, and we wouldn’t care at all.