Status: Active...maybe
What Senior Prom Taught Me
Lesson 2: Feminism= The Right to Equal Work, Pay, and the Ability to Ask a Boy to Prom
The locker room quickly cleared as the second bell rang. I took my time, waiting for the crowds to die down before heading through the dull halls to my free period. Stepping into classroom 213, my worse fears were confirmed. Robert Vandermeer had chosen the same classroom for study hall as me. I narrowed my eyes briefly before plastering a smile upon my face and heading towards the small grouping of desks that my friends occupied, which was unfortunately and exceedingly close to Robert.
“Did you hear?” Natalie’s bright eyes two sparkling pools stared up at me as I scooted by to the free desk behind her. The free desk which was punishingly next to Robert.
“Well, the last time I went to the Doctor’s I was told my hearing was perfect, so I’d say I definitely hear,” I joked, knowing that the question was obviously in regards to prom—the one topic on everyone's brain—and not actually on the status of my hearing.
She didn’t even crack as smile. In fact, her expression darkened as she stated, “And you’re not even excited?"
I shrugged, “It’s not that I’m not excited. It’s just that we’ve had a formal dance for every year of high school. The excitement wanes after year four.”
“Yeah, but” Emma turned to join the conversation, her incredulous look matching Natalie’s “It’s senior prom.”
I returned their stares with a look imploring them to explain to me how this stupid dance was different from the other saving for the fact that it was the last. Locked in the starting contest, Natalie and Emma broke first.
“Do you think Seeley will ask me?” Natalie asked, pulling nervously at a strand of hair, straightening the curl completely before letting go. The curl sprung back to place on her perfectly quaffed head.
Emma and I answered her question with incredulous looks of our own before Emma’s eyes softened as she sighed, “It must be so nice to already know that someone is going to ask you to prom.”
“It’s only day one Emma,” Natalie squeezed Emma’s hand comfortingly. “Someone will ask you.”
“You could always ask someone,” I suggested after a beat, receiving death glares from the two of them.
I sighed. Of course no girl wants to ask someone to prom. That ruins the whole romantic ethos behind the whole night. But isn’t that what our mothers burned their bras for in the 60’s? The right to equal work, pay, and the ability to ask a boy to the prom?
“I really want to go with James Gordon,” she sighed again. His name on her lips caused my stomach to flip. I cursed it.
“I don’t think he has a date yet.”
“Yeah, but he’s totally going to ask you,” her eyes flashed with jealousy as the words tumble from her mouth.
“Please!” Robert interrupted the conversation, pretending that people actually wanted to talk to him. “You couldn’t even get a blow up doll to take you to prom!”
The boy was an A1 jerk. In fact, he was the jerk. Like in Plato’s allegory of the cave, he was the real true jerk and every other variation of jerk was just Rob reflected in the shadows. And he wasn’t a jerk in that devilishly good-looking way that makes me swoon in the privacy of my bedroom as I dream of him in bed at night. In fact, any attractiveness he had was completely negated by his jerkish ways. And you can most certainly bet that he wasn’t just douche of the year because he harbored some kind of feelings for me. If he did it wasn’t mutual, and I would rather be executed then revived only to be executed again everyday for the rest of my life over than do anything more than insult him.
“The word of the day is…” I paused to add weight to the word I was about to utter. “Socialization! Definition: To behave in a manner that is acceptable to society. For example, Robert would have proper socialization if he had friends,” I smirked, and, feeling my point had been made, reached into my backpack to gather the contents necessary to doing history homework.
Emma and Natalie giggled in response to my jab at Rob’s lack of social skills. Sometimes the truth hurt AND made for a funny joke.
“Yeah, well…” Robert’s face reddened with anger and the inability to provide a fitting comeback. “Your earrings are ugly!” he spat before turning back to the book laid open on his desk.
“Good one Rob!” I laughed, taking the moment as a great success. It was about Rob 5: Me 8.5 to the sixth power.
I turned to my history homework and opened to the questions from the last chapter, and began to work on them while in-between chatting. However, my thoughts were neither on my homework nor on Natalie and Emma’s further discussion of prom. My thoughts were filled with James Gordon. Emma had unknowingly committed the first deadly sin in trying to deny one’s true feelings. She put the idea out in the universe that maybe, possibly, James was also interested in me. That someone else noticed that there was more than his tooth decaying friendliness behind our interactions, and that was deadly. Once the possibility of the reciprocation of feelings is open, it allows the mind to wander, daydream, and role play, trying to grasp anything from any interaction with said person to validate the feelings. Before one knows it, BAM, your on the 7:40 train to Crushville on a one-way ticket, and I was trying to avoid that ride as if my life depended on it.
“Did you hear?” Natalie’s bright eyes two sparkling pools stared up at me as I scooted by to the free desk behind her. The free desk which was punishingly next to Robert.
“Well, the last time I went to the Doctor’s I was told my hearing was perfect, so I’d say I definitely hear,” I joked, knowing that the question was obviously in regards to prom—the one topic on everyone's brain—and not actually on the status of my hearing.
She didn’t even crack as smile. In fact, her expression darkened as she stated, “And you’re not even excited?"
I shrugged, “It’s not that I’m not excited. It’s just that we’ve had a formal dance for every year of high school. The excitement wanes after year four.”
“Yeah, but” Emma turned to join the conversation, her incredulous look matching Natalie’s “It’s senior prom.”
I returned their stares with a look imploring them to explain to me how this stupid dance was different from the other saving for the fact that it was the last. Locked in the starting contest, Natalie and Emma broke first.
“Do you think Seeley will ask me?” Natalie asked, pulling nervously at a strand of hair, straightening the curl completely before letting go. The curl sprung back to place on her perfectly quaffed head.
Emma and I answered her question with incredulous looks of our own before Emma’s eyes softened as she sighed, “It must be so nice to already know that someone is going to ask you to prom.”
“It’s only day one Emma,” Natalie squeezed Emma’s hand comfortingly. “Someone will ask you.”
“You could always ask someone,” I suggested after a beat, receiving death glares from the two of them.
I sighed. Of course no girl wants to ask someone to prom. That ruins the whole romantic ethos behind the whole night. But isn’t that what our mothers burned their bras for in the 60’s? The right to equal work, pay, and the ability to ask a boy to the prom?
“I really want to go with James Gordon,” she sighed again. His name on her lips caused my stomach to flip. I cursed it.
“I don’t think he has a date yet.”
“Yeah, but he’s totally going to ask you,” her eyes flashed with jealousy as the words tumble from her mouth.
“Please!” Robert interrupted the conversation, pretending that people actually wanted to talk to him. “You couldn’t even get a blow up doll to take you to prom!”
The boy was an A1 jerk. In fact, he was the jerk. Like in Plato’s allegory of the cave, he was the real true jerk and every other variation of jerk was just Rob reflected in the shadows. And he wasn’t a jerk in that devilishly good-looking way that makes me swoon in the privacy of my bedroom as I dream of him in bed at night. In fact, any attractiveness he had was completely negated by his jerkish ways. And you can most certainly bet that he wasn’t just douche of the year because he harbored some kind of feelings for me. If he did it wasn’t mutual, and I would rather be executed then revived only to be executed again everyday for the rest of my life over than do anything more than insult him.
“The word of the day is…” I paused to add weight to the word I was about to utter. “Socialization! Definition: To behave in a manner that is acceptable to society. For example, Robert would have proper socialization if he had friends,” I smirked, and, feeling my point had been made, reached into my backpack to gather the contents necessary to doing history homework.
Emma and Natalie giggled in response to my jab at Rob’s lack of social skills. Sometimes the truth hurt AND made for a funny joke.
“Yeah, well…” Robert’s face reddened with anger and the inability to provide a fitting comeback. “Your earrings are ugly!” he spat before turning back to the book laid open on his desk.
“Good one Rob!” I laughed, taking the moment as a great success. It was about Rob 5: Me 8.5 to the sixth power.
I turned to my history homework and opened to the questions from the last chapter, and began to work on them while in-between chatting. However, my thoughts were neither on my homework nor on Natalie and Emma’s further discussion of prom. My thoughts were filled with James Gordon. Emma had unknowingly committed the first deadly sin in trying to deny one’s true feelings. She put the idea out in the universe that maybe, possibly, James was also interested in me. That someone else noticed that there was more than his tooth decaying friendliness behind our interactions, and that was deadly. Once the possibility of the reciprocation of feelings is open, it allows the mind to wander, daydream, and role play, trying to grasp anything from any interaction with said person to validate the feelings. Before one knows it, BAM, your on the 7:40 train to Crushville on a one-way ticket, and I was trying to avoid that ride as if my life depended on it.