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This year's prom theme was violet. So, the school's auditorium was beautifully decorated with violet streamers, violet balloons and even the flower violet itself.
However, nothing can be more beautiful than Whitney. She was dressed in an elegant violet gown. Her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. Her face wore nothing but lip gloss and her cheeks were just slightly blushed pink. When she walked down the stairs, I can't help but feel like I'm the luckiest man on planet Earth.
"You ready?" I winked.
"Nope! Not yet! Just one more picture. Then, she'll be all yours." Mrs Clinton quickly snapped a photo.
"Mom!" she whined.
"Okay, okay! You two have fun!" Mrs Clinton finally allowed us to leave.
"Sorry about that. My mom can get a little too carried away sometimes." she smiled.
"Naw, that's okay. I'm just glad to be with you." I said sheepishly.
She blushed.
"You look really pretty in that gown." I said.
"And you look pretty okay yourself." she teased.
"'Pretty okay'?" I replied. "I'm sure you can do better than that."
She looked at me, head to toe and finally answered, "Yeah, I think I'll stick with pretty okay."
"Okay, as long as you're happy." I grinned.
When we reached the school, we could hear loud music blaring through the radios; seniors running as fast as they can without breaking a sweat to the auditorium; boring teachers whom you always thought had social issues on the dance floor -- everyone was having fun.
"Wow, we're late." I finally said.
"Fashionably late." she corrected.
"I thought I was just 'pretty okay'?" I asked.
"Well yeah, I'm the one who's fashionably late." she winked.
"Anyway," diverting the topic, I added, "You wanna dance?" I held out my hand.
"Yeah, sure. Why not?" she gracefully took my hand.
"Hey, I'm not good at this so forgive me if I did something wrong." I admitted.
"No worries, just follow my lead." she grinned, obviously delighted to be in authority.
She told me to put one hand on her hip and held my other hand. And then we started twirling around in random motion according to the rhythm of the music. She could sense I was nervous but her smile reassured me. I kept glancing down my two left feet for fear I would step her feet, but she kept lifting my chin up and told me to look at her. I did. And everything else blackened out. It was just me and her under the big spotlight. I didn't even care if I danced weird. All that mattered was she was in my arms.
Her sparkling eyes, her irresistable smile...
And right before the music ended, we kissed.
JOANNA
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