Some Random Story…

Chapter 1…

A light breeze lazily blew in through my window, raising goosebumps on my bare shoulders and ruffling my hair. I shivered. It was cool, and made the air taste like the ocean outside my window. Wind chimes played softly in the distance, their random and tentative melodies like a child's first attempts at a new experience, like magic. I inhaled slowly, committing this magical and stirring moment to memory. Then, very slowly, I opened my eyes.

The girl on the other side of the full-length mirror was definitely not me. It couldn't be. Her sea blue-grey eyes were wide with amazement, and framed by feathery grey lashes. Her sandy blonde hair hung loosely around her shoulders and was curled into tight little ringlets. Her cheeks were a rosy red – not the red you get from really bad sunburns or when you are embarrassed – the perfect shade of pink. Her thin, pale shoulders were bare, and a thin ribbon around her neck held her dress in place. The dress itself seemed to have come straight out of a fairy tale. The satin clung lightly to her hips, and its silvery teal fabric shimmered as another breeze drifted though the room. The gown's hem gracefully touched the floor, and her feet rested comfortably in silver slippers.

It had to be me; there was no one else there. But it couldn't be me. My eyes were usually framed by thick, unattractive glasses, not gorgeous lashes. I usually wore ratty t-shirts and jeans, not evening gowns. My hair never agreed with me, so it stayed in a knotted ponytail, as a compromise. My feet were usually housed in roomy old tennis shoes. And forget makeup – my cheeks were usually pale, and covered with unruly freckles. It was a stunning and awe-inspiring transformation.

A shadow appeared behind me in the mirror. "What do you think?" its motherly voice asked.

"Oh, Nana… it's… it's perfect!" I whispered, unable to speak. I turned around. There Nana stood a warm smile on her face. Wrinkles and creases etched into her skin covered up the fact that she had been beautiful long ago. Her salt-and-pepper hair was twisted up into and elegant bun and her green eyes sparkled with melancholy sadness.

"I'm glad you like it," she said, her wrinkled lips spreading into an even wider smile. "It's not every day that one of the girls here gets to go to prom."

"Mmmm…" I smiled. I felt a twinge of discomfort at her mention of the orphanage, but she was right. It wasn't every day that you got to go to prom, and obviously it was Nana's objective to make the night one of the most memorable of my life.

"Well… are you ready to go?" She asked.

In reality, I was a nervous wreck. My palms were sweating and shaking, but I swallowed and nodded. Nana hugged me tightly, tears in her eyes.

"Let's go," she whispered. She took my hand and led me out of the room, and down the all-too-familiar hallways. When we reached the top of the stairs, I saw all of the younger kids at the orphanage lining the way down, waiting expectantly. All of them gasped and stared in awe.

"Sara, Sara!" they chanted. "You look like a princess! You look like a fairy godmother!" I smiled warmly. Being one of the oldest kids at the orphanage at seventeen, I loved the little ones dearly, and wanted for them all to get adopted one day. It was too late for me. When you're a senior in high school, there is next to no chance that you will get adopted at all.

I let my eyes wander down the stairs, past all of the happy children, to where my "date" stood: my best friend in a tuxedo, a huge smile on his face, corsage in hand.

Although I had seen him all week, it was like seeing him for the first time. And, despite all of the arguments we had had recently, my heart swelled. All second thoughts, all nervous jitters went away as soon as I saw him, and I was home at last.

Kyle Golden, my best guyfriend, stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes locked on my slowly descending form as we weaved our way through the excited children. His eyes grew excited as we finally reached him, like he had just won the lottery.

"Wow, Sarabear, you look amazing," he said in awe, whistling and taking my hand.

I blushed. "Well, you aren't too shabby yourself, Kylee," I joked.

He actually did look dapper (more than usual, at least). His blond hair was combed neatly, and his black tuxedo was nearly spotless. A wide smile was on his face. I gently took the white carnation corsage out of the box he was holding and attempted to tie it around my own wrist. It was then that I noticed that my hands were expertly French manicured… possibly even fake. I looked up at Nana, who smiled wryly.

Kyle was carefully tying the corsage to my wrist, staring at me the whole time.

"What?" I finally asked, irked that he kept staring.

"You are so beautiful," he replied serenely.

I was mentally shocked. I mean, I was prepared for amazing but not beautiful. I was pretty sure he was joking. But I smiled.

The tears on Nana's face fell faster now as we climbed into the car and she drove us to the hotel where the prom was being held. The Hotel de Chagny was dressed in its best décor. It was a breathtaking sight to behold. I took another breath to calm myself, and climbed out of the car. Kyle took my hand and led me into the ballroom. There were a lot of people from our school, Fort Williams High, and almost all of them were dancing to the slow, sweet, and mesmerizing music.

"Shall we?" Kyle asked, being the gentleman. I nodded, too nervous to speak. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. My arms hung loosely on his shoulders. I looked around, and saw our friends from the orphanage: Pat and Troy, Harrison and Lucy, Pam and her boyfriend Paul Nic, and Dawn, who was flirting with all of the single, cute guys.

I sighed, as if the whole day of preparation had drained me. I rested my head on his chest (it was a good thing that he was a good foot taller than me), and inhaled, accidentally taking in his musky, warm, bread-in-the-oven scent. I was bewildered. I never thought that we would get this close. Sure, we were best friends (and maybe I had a teensy little crush on him), but that was it… I think.

I felt a small amount of pressure on my hair… was it his lips? I looked up, and he was smiling down at me, his face only inches away from mine. He brought his lips to my ear.

"Sara… there's been something I've been wanting to tell you," he murmured. My hands grew clammy again. "As long as we've known each other, well… I've… always sort of liked you," he continued. I gulped. "So… wh-what I'm really trying to say is…" he pulled back, our faces only centimeters away. "Is that I love you."

I was so shocked that I wasn't able to forma response, rational or irrational. He took my face in his hands and hesitated, gauging my reaction. When he decided that I wasn't going to push him away, he pressed his lips very gently to mine, kissing me tenderly, his fingers twisting in my hair. It lasted for an eternity. But, surprisingly, a very nice eternity. What was most surprising of all was that I kissed him back.

When the kiss was finally over (no Frenching, thank heaven, I was totally not ready for that yet), he (anticlimactically) went to get punch, which I felt was kind of clichéd. I stood there, quivering, trying to comprehend it all. It felt like the room was spinning, so I staggered to a chair over by the wall. I sat, and tried to clear my head. What had just happened? It was all a blur. All that I was sure of was this one simple fact: Kyle loved me. One of my best friends in the while wide world loved me, and I loved him back. And that was enough for me.