A Mess of Youthful Innocence

I gazed into the floor-length mirror in front of me, taking in my finished attire, trying to decide whether or not I looked decent. I put a hand to my dirty blonde spiral curls, trying to place it where it looked the best. My bangs were straightened and swept across my left sea-green eye. My eyelids were covered in a light orange color and lined with black and my eyelashes were done with a light sweep of mascara while my lips were covered with a light shade of rose-colored lipgloss. My dress was a spaghetti-strapped orange one, with a flower-covered bodice and a floor-length silky gown. I had strappy black 3-inch stiletto heels on my feet and dangly earrings in the first set holes in my ears and hoops in the second set.

This was it. Just five more minutes until my date gets here for the big night. Senior prom. The words sounded so weird in my mind. I'd been waiting for this night since my first year of middle school. What kind of girl wouldn't want to be swept off her feet by her Prince Charming at the end of her high school career? I was going with my crush of four years; Patrick. I'd been best friends with him ever since the first day of kindergarten.

My thoughts seemed to make time go faster, because, before I knew it, there was a knock at the front door. I walked to the door as fast as I could in my 3-inch heels and pulled open the door.

"Hey, Rosalyn," Patrick greeted with a smile, "You look amazing!" I blushed and looked him over. He was wearing a black tux with an orange tie to match my dress, and in his hand he held two beautiful white corsages to go on our wrists. He was wearing a green newspaper boy cap – he never could go anywhere without a hat on his head. He held out a corsage to me and I took it and slipped it on my wrist.

"You look great, too," I told him, smiling. He held out his arm.

"Ready to go?" He asked me. I hooked my arm through his.

"Of course!" I said excitedly. He lead me to his red truck. Nope, no limo for us. I was sort of glad, actually – I'm not one for grand entrances. He opened the passenger side door for me. I got in and he shut it behind me before walking over to his side. He turned the key in the ignition and we were off to our high school. I was so excited, I started slightly bouncing in my seat.

"Someone's excited, I see," He observed, smirking and raising an eyebrow at me. I laughed.

"Well, duh, it's prom, you loser! Everyone waits for this night. And the fact that I'm going with my crush of four years is definitely a plus," I replied, not realizing what I'd said. Patrick looked over at me, his mouth hanging open. I looked at him, confused, and, after a moment, my eyes widened and I slapped a hand over my mouth. "Um... Uh..." I stuttered, trying to find something to say to make this situation better. I was sure my cheeks were probably the color of his truck. There was an awkward silence and I looked out the window, ashamed. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my thigh and I looked over at Patrick to see him smiling at me.

"It's okay, don't worry. I like you a lot, too," He told me. I was squealing inside, but I couldn't let him know that. I just gave him a huge smile and put my hand on top of his.

I was still smiling when we pulled up to the high school and got out of the truck. He walked over to me and slipped his hand in mine as we walked inside. The gymnasium was decorated so well. There were red, purple, and yellow streamers hanging all over the place – our school's colors. There was a food and drink table on the right side of the gym and a DJ table in the far right corner. There were a few activities on the left side of the gym, like caricatures and a little fake tattoo booth. There were tons of people already dancing in the middle of the gym. I grabbed Patrick's hand and pulled him over to the caricature stand. Patrick sat down on a chair and I sat on his lap sideways, putting my arms around his neck.

"Look straight at me the whole time," The artist told us as he started to draw. For the next fifteen minutes, we sat completely still, keeping our huge smiles on our faces. "Okay, what are your names?" He asked, putting the finishing touches on the caricature.

"I'm Rosalyn, and this is Patrick," I told him, and he scribbled our names in the top corner of the paper and handed it to us. We got up and walked away a few feet before looking at the paper and bursting into a fit of giggles. "Dude, that looks nothing like me!" I said, still laughing. He smiled and stared at my face for a few seconds, making me start to feel uncomfortable. Then he looked back at the picture.

"It kind of looks like you, Rose. Look at mine, though! He made me fat," He pouted. I laughed at him.

"Naw, it looks fine. It doesn't look that fat," I teased. He looked at me with his mouth open, feigning hurt and shock.

"Hey! That was so mean!" He cried. I smiled.

"I was just kidding! Jeez!" I told him. He smiled and hugged me. I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the dance floor. He pulled me close to him and we started dancing like idiots and grabbing attention from other people. We ignored them and just continued to dance. After a few fast songs, we sat down at a table on the side of the room, off of the dance floor. I sat next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He put his arm around my waist.

"Do you want some punch?" He asked me, looking down at me. I looked at him and smiled, nodding my head.

"I'll come with you," I told him, and we both got up. He grabbed my hand and I followed him to the food and drinks table. He poured me some punch and handed me the cup before pouring himself some. We started to walk back to the table.

"Hey, sexy," I heard a sleazy voice say from behind me. I turned around and found a guy who looked drunk staggering towards me. "Let's go have some fun on the dance floor." He winked at me, eyeing me up and down. I raised an eyebrow at him, disgusted.

"I'm already with someone, dude. Go find some other chick to bother," I told him, turning around with Patrick. The guy grabbed my hand and pulled me away from Patrick, towards him. He put his other arm around my waist.

"Ditch him, princess. He doesn't look that great," The sleazeball said, starting to pull me away. I tried to push him away, but his arm wouldn't budge.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I shouted. Suddenly, his arm was ripped from my waist and he was on the floor. Patrick was standing over him, looking furious.

"Don't fucking touch my girlfriend," He hissed to the guy on the ground, kicking him in the side. The drunk curled up, grabbing his side. Everybody in the gym was looking at us by now. Patrick glared at him for a few more seconds, then turned around, looked at me, and grabbed my hand. "Come on. Let's go dance again," He seethed, still trying to control his anger. I followed him to the dance floor, looking behind me to glare at the drunk on the floor. A slow song had just come on – Vegas Skies by The Cab. Patrick pulled me close to him again and put his arms around my waist. I slung my arms around his neck and moved side-to-side with him. I rested my head on his chest and he rested his on my head.

So say goodnight, our first goodbye. I've only got forever and forever is fine. Just take your time. We'll stop the clock together and know that the timing was right.

Suddenly, he raised his head and I looked up at him confused. He only smiled, and then leaned forward. I closed my eyes and met his lips halfway. I smiled into the kiss. He licked my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I gave in, and he explored my mouth with his tongue. He pulled away as the song ended. We smiled at each other and he held my hands in his.

A half an hour later, the prom ended, and we walked out to Patrick's truck. Before we got in, I turned around and kissed him.

"Thank you for the amazing night. I had a lot of fun," I told him, smiling. He smiled back and kissed me again. He opened the passenger side door for me again and I got in before he went around to his side. He started driving down the road.

A few roads before my house, he started to talk.

"Rosalyn, I just want to s—"

"Patrick, watch out!" I shouted, pointing out the windshield. He looked out at the road, but it was too late.

Crunch.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a blinding flash of yellow light.

The last thing I heard was Patrick screaming my name.