Margo Roth Spiegelman waltzed into the Esplanade, her mind clouded. She was wearing a light emerald gown, her chestnut hair falling to her mid-chest in soft curls.
Prom, she chanted in her mind, it was every girl's dream, right?
This year's theme was Starry Night. Of course, Becca planned her perfect prom night. How typical.
The guys watched as Margo floated her way through the crowd, the girls with their mouths watering in envy. Margo had always been oblivous to it all. She wondered why she even bothered coming to the lame-ass Prom. It was the perfect paper prom for the paper people in the paper town in paper Orlando. She was far from paper.
And hen there was Quentin Jacobsen. He was paper, too. The Quentin Jacobsen in this paper world was far different from the knight-in-shining-armour Quentin in her story.
Margo wound her way through the paper people and sat on an empty booth on the far corner of the Esplanade where she can see it all - the dancing paper couples, the hawk-eyed paper teachers, the lonesome paper people by the drinks table in their paper Prom. She could leave this town roght now she at least had to see Quentin turn to her Quentin. She had it all planned in her black moleskin which was readily placed in her purse. She could change into more comfortable clothes and easily slip out of the Esplanade and jump into her car. She could then take her car to Osprey and may e sleep for a bit. She would leave for Agloe in the morning via interstates and she would arrive approxiamtely in 21 hours if she limited her stop-overs. But there's Quentin Jacobsen still.
Margo had to admit, she would surely miss the tall and awkward paper Quentin. He was this paper boy she wrote about when she was just a mere 4th grader. There was something in him that Margo adored - she just couldn't tell what.
Looking upon the paper Prom, it just dawned on her that this would probably be the last time she would see her paper ex-boyfriend Jase, paper bully Chuck and even paper backstabber Becca, even if she felt damned to have lived in this paper town, Orlando had been a huge part of her young life. She would have to leave Ruthie, her parents and even Myrna Mountweasel.
But wanderlust seemed to stream in her blood and runs in her veins. She could imagine herself driving around America without any care in the world. She would sleep in abandoned buildings or under the stars, bathe under waterfalls or public restrooms and eat the unlikeliest of food. But travelling all alone? Surely, it would get lonely at one point. She could invite Quentin but she was certain his parents would just psycho-talk them both into staying and after all, Quentin will still and always be paper. Weren't they all?
Perhaps Margo was paper, too. Margo, the depressed popular girl who seeks attention. Margo, the mysterious wanderluster. Margo, who liked to escape from reality. Margo, who wrote all her miseries. Last, Margo the girl.