The sun is high and a number of high school students piled out of Reno High School excited for the upcoming weekend. Anticipation ran high for many seniors with graduation being a few months away; a few months and they’ll be free. For me, the days couldn’t go by fast enough. High school wasn’t my sanctuary like it is for the popular kids around here. I get good grades, hardly ever go out and I never slack off. Neither all through junior high and high school I was never popular nor a total loser. I was placed right in the middle. The popular kids ignored me and the underclassmen shy around me; not scared, but shy. I am content and keep mostly to myself. I am fairly nice and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t utter a hello to someone in the hall. I was blessed that I don’t get tormented or pushed around by my peers. I get enough of that from my own family – at least a few of them.

I walked through the double doors of my high school after another day of grueling lectures and bad lunches. I called out and waved goodbye to my good friend, Kesha, before making my way over to my little green BMW Buggy. As I threw my bag in the back seat I gazed over the top of my Bug and watched Josh Mason flip through his stack of CD’s. He selected one and briskly popped it into his stereo. I breathed in a nice cool breeze of spring air and finally climbed into the driver’s seat. I leaned my head up against the seat as I continued to watch him sing along to the music. Josh slightly jumped when he saw me looking at him. I smiled and we both laughed at the situation, then he went back to singing.

                “Having fun?” I asked surprised at my own courage to even talk to him. He smiled and nodded. My heart melted.  I have had a crush on Josh since we were eight graders. I get butterflies in my stomach every time he talks, smiles or even looks my way. I knew I would never have a chance with him. Josh is way out of my league and there is no way he would like someone like me. I’m not a cheerleader and Josh is the type of guy that goes after the cheerleader type; tall, blond, perfect and bitchy. I definitely don’t fit anywhere in that category, although, maybe the ‘bitch’ category would suffice on some days. On the record, my cousin Mara would be a perfect example.  

                “Who are you listening to?” He asked, turning the volume down and leaning his head out of the window. I smiled and lightly touched my CD player with the tips of my fingers.

                “Blackstone Cherry,” I answered my voice shaky.

                “Nice,” He smiled, his deep dimples flashing. My heart jumped into my throat and stayed there. “It’s exciting receiving all our graduation stuff today. Makes getting out of this hell hole an even bigger reality.”

                “Tell me about it,” I nodded, sitting perfectly still and staring straight ahead. I tried to avoid eye contact so he wouldn’t see that I’ve turned into a bright red tomato.

                “I’ll see you on Monday, Marsha,” I turned in my seat and stared at him in awe. I seriously thought he wouldn’t know my name, considered how average I am to him. I opened my mouth slightly to say goodbye, but Josh was already driving out of the parking lot. My heart slowly came down from my throat and settled back into my chest. I closed my eyes and sat in the empty parking lot for a few minutes before finally heading home.

                When I arrived home, the smell of my mother’s famous cherry pie filled my nasal passages.          After that repulsive lunch I had earlier, consisting of beef tips with brown gravy and yucky peas and fruit, the smell of mom’s pie did me wonders. I couldn’t possibly wait until dinner; the pie was calling my name now. I skipped through the kitchen and slid up to the counter, my nose almost coming into contact with the heavenly aroma.  My mouth watered. I could already taste it.

                “Get your nose out of that pie,” I felt myself being yanked away from the counter. I chuckled, turning around and gazing over my mother. Her hair is caked with flour, along with her red and white checkered apron. She flung the apron off and wiped her face with a towel, throwing off the remainder of flour.

                “It has to cool and besides, you know the rules; no desert before dinner,” She shook her head, chuckling, as she brushed her fingers through her hair. “Jeez, already eighteen and I’m still telling you,”

                “But mom, I’m hungry. Lunch at school was grotesque.” I whined, pulling the pie rack closer to me with my finger. My mom opened the refrigerator and tossed an apple at me.

                “Eat that for now,” I turned my nose up at the snack. Apples aren’t my favorite thing in the world, but I’ll eat them.  “Did you get your invitations for graduation in today?” She continued.

                I raised my eyes to the ceiling in thought. “Yes,” I pulled my bag around my waist and pulled the box of invitations out of my bag. I knew my mom wasn’t going to let me relax, when she snatched the box out of my hands and sat me down at the glass top dining room table. She tore open the box and at least a hundred invitations spilled out in front of me.

                “Get started filling these out. Have one pile for family and another pile for your friends. My address book is in the top drawer in the desk behind you.” My shoulders slumped in defeat and I almost hit the table. I ran my hands through the invitations, picking up a few piles and letting them slip carelessly through my fingers. I whirled around in my seat and caught my mom’s eye as she sifted through some bills a couple feet away.

                “The party isn’t for another couple of months, mom. Can I wait and fill these out some other day?”

                “No, now,” She insisted. “I want everyone to get a chance to think ahead, prepare themselves. Besides, I need a number so I can make sure I have enough food.”

                I groaned, reaching back behind me and taking the black address book out of the top drawer of the desk.  I paused for a moment, the book hanging loosely between my thumb and index finger. I grabbed the book with my free hand before the heaviness of it gave away.

                “Where do you want me to start?” I placed the book on the table and pushed it away from me.

                “From beginning to end, Marsha,”

                I leafed through the pages, my mouth open in shock. “Are you crazy? I don’t even know half these people in here and I doubt I have enough invites for everyone.”

                “Then I guess you’ll have to make more by hand,” she said without making eye contact.

                “You don’t expect me to get all these done by tonight do you?”
                “I expect you to get something done, Marsha Ann.” I groaned once again and my face hit the table, the address book slipping out of my hand.

                “I don’t want a party, anyway,” I grumbled incoherently into the pile of invites.

                “What did you say?”

                With my head feeling heavier than usual, I struggled to lift it up. “Mom, I don’t want a party,”

                “Excuse me?”

                “I said I don’t want—“She put her hand up and I stopped in mid - sentence, my mouth open agape.

                “Yeah, missy, I heard you the first time,” With the bills clutched tightly in her hand, she came over and sat down beside me. I rested my face against my right hand and looked back at her tiredly. She remained silent her eyes slamming into mine. The way she was staring at me made me shiver. My mom always had a way to beat information out of me, in more ways than one.

                “Why, missy?” She finally spoke. For a moment there I thought her voice no longer worked and she only let her eyes do the talking.

                I sighed, slumping further into my palm. “I just…don’t want one. I don’t see the need to have a big party. Maybe we can have a little gathering with you and me and maybe…dad,” I didn’t want my whole family in one house, maybe 99% of my family. I have an issue with both of my grandmothers and telling my mom the real reason why I didn’t want a gigantic party was completely out of the question. I wasn’t in the mood to get snapped at. I felt embarrassed and ashamed at the thought of only wanting one of my grandmother’s here but not both of them. I love them both dearly, but at what cost? There has never been a quiet moment between those two, despite both of them being fairly nice to their peers. They always have something to fight about. Last year in November on my eighteenth birthday, Beatrice wanted to take me to Vegas and try to get lucky at the Casinos. Grandma Artie scolded Beatrice telling her that Vegas were no place for a lady and adding that Beatrice wasn’t a lady herself. She also concluded that Vegas is about eight hours away from our Reno homestead and that flying was just out of the question. Grandma Artie told her that I would have a lot more fun enjoying shopping and pampering. That statement from Grandma Artie made me question how much she knows about me. Shopping? Someone shoot me, please. I hate shopping! I suggested to both of them that they could take me out and surprise me and I’ll pretend to be happy if shopping was involved, but they only ignored my plan. I was so upset about their constant arguing about nonsense that I took it upon myself to get out of the situation. I called both of them and told them that I was sick. Lying to my Grandmother’s was the hardest thing to do and it saddened me a great deal. It was my birthday and I wasn’t quite sure who ruined it. Was it me or them? I hate to point fingers, but I also hate knowing that I was the one that was wrong. Can’t a girl be right for once? The answer is no, when you’re a teenager. I’ll ask myself that question in ten years. Anyway, that was the day I gave up trying to reconcile them.

                “Just get the invitations filled out, Marsha,” I opened my eyes slightly and chewed on my bottom lip. I took a deep breath and picked up the first invitation. There is no way I’m getting out of this one.

*****

                Several hours and a strained neck later, the invitations were done. I was surprised that I had enough to go around for everyone in my mother’s huge address book. Well, maybe not everyone. I did skip a couple I didn’t think needed an invite; like the mayor of Reno. The mayor doesn’t need to come. I was so tired and my pulse pounded in my head. I should be used to my mother’s stubbornness and her ability to remain impatient. If she wanted something done, she wanted it done; not tomorrow, not in two hours, but now. I sifted through the different piles of invites, going through them for the thousandth time, making sure all the ones I wanted were in place.

                I looked at the clock. Dinner wasn’t even ready yet and I was starving. That apple didn’t do me any good. I can’t even remember eating on that apple. My brain never had time to relax and recharge before it started to turn into mush when mom made me fill out these stupid invitations. I expect none of my friends to show up, because they have their own parties to go to. I filled them out anyway, knowing that unfortunate fact. I did not want to spend my night with my bickering and annoying family members. I can’t escape to my room, like I usually do. I’d be dragged out by my feet and forced to engage in a useless conversation about politics, that I know nothing about, with my Uncle Vernon, who doesn’t smell all that nice. He says it’s his manly smell, but I beg to differ. I think the dude just hates showering. 

                “Are the invites all filled out and ready to be delivered?” The answer I gave my mother was a small groan that escaped up my throat. As I went to put another invite behind the others, my mother snatched them out of my hand and the rest off the table. I opened my mouth slightly, ready to protest and tell her that I wasn’t done looking through them, but I thought against it. I watched her shift through them, pull them together and then hand them back to me. I blinked and quietly took them from her outstretched hand, placing them firmly to my chest.

                “Why so quiet? Still feeling reluctant?” She asked, gathering her purse and jacket and quickly slipping them on. I narrowed my eyes at my mother. She is always in a hurry. I couldn’t understand how busy my mom is, despite having only one child and being a stay at home mother. It’s not like she had to go to work or something. What does she do all day besides cook and clean to make her feel like she doesn’t have enough hours in the day to do everything at a nice little pace? Oh yeah…the damn party. A party like this will probably make anyone nuts.

                “No, I’m peachy,” My shoulders slumped further down when the urge to tell my mom the truth quickly came, but then disappeared as quickly.

                “Are you sure? Last call,”

                “Totally,”

                She narrowed her eyes at me, hardly believing a word. “Fine. I know something is up, but never mind. Please, get downtown and get them sent off. I don’t want to forget anyone. I have errands to run.”

                ‘What errands?’ I thought to myself. “Okay, mom.” 

                She snatched her keys up from the hook on the wall and then quickly slipped out the door.  I sat silently at the table for a few more minutes lost in my own thoughts, before getting up and heading out myself. I slipped into my Bug, the invites resting on the seat next to me. As I made my way downtown, I constantly tried to think of an excuse to get out of the party, but nothing seemed good enough. Once again, I felt myself sliding back to zero.  

                It wasn’t until I finally entered the lobby of the post office when I thought of an action that could possibly result in a humiliation bypass. I thought about “accidently” forgetting to send off Artie and Beatrice’s invites. It wouldn’t matter to Grandma Beatrice if she didn’t receive any kind of invite, because she shows up anyway, but Grandma Artie loved getting stuff from me - whether it was a phone call, a letter, or in this case, an invite. She always told me, it’s the thought that counts. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before coming to a decision, deep down feeling guilty about what I was about to do. I slipped the invites through the ‘out of town’ mail slot and then bolted back to my car, my grandmother’s invites stuck in the back pocket of my blue jeans.

*****

                Two months later, the party is finally here. Dressed in an electric blue mini dress I borrowed from Kesha, I stood in the kitchen helping my mom put the food on the table. A few family members lingered about in the living room, including Aunt Barbra and Uncle Tim along with their two children in tow, my cousins, Mara and Laurie. Both are older than me and already in college. Laurie is the quiet type, keeps mostly to herself, almost like me, except she’s a shopper. I’m more of a home-body. Mara on the other hand is the attractive on. She’s the type of girl that has the boys falling over each other just to get her attention. Her hobbies are shopping, just a ditz with a credit card that’s what I say, and gossiping. Oh yes, gossiping, especially about me. I’m the butt of all jokes when it comes down to what I’m wearing. It doesn’t bother me. Okay, maybe just a little bit, but hey, I’m used to it. At least I don’t go walking around with my tatas spilling over the tops of my skimpy little bustier and my fanny hanging loose from those short shorts.  And let’s not forget those dreadful stilettos. I seriously think she sleeps with them on.

                I catch Mara’s eye as I set down the tray of crab cakes. Of course I put on a nice smile and swallow my words down to the bottom of my stomach before heading over to her.

                “Hey, cousin,” I greet her, throwing my arm around her neck and giving her a quick, yet tight hug. I felt Mara tense up for a split second, before patting me lightly on the back. I held back a laugh. Pulling back, Mara moved her eyes up and down my frame. Then, she slowly raised her eyes back to my face and put on a quick – fake – smile. I feel sorry for all her followers. They have no idea.

                “You clean up nicely,” Mara smirked, throwing her long blond hair back over her shoulder.

                “Thanks,” My words are flat.

                “You’re hair looks decent and the dress is cute, but Marsha, is it just too hard to be yourself? I mean I’m flattered you want to be like me, but why don’t you quit while you’re behind.” My jaw dropped. Is this chick serious? Stop trying to be like her? Oh come on! I quickly collected myself and then slit my eyes in her direction. She flashed her fake smile and then walked passed me, slightly bumping me on purpose.  

                “But I’m still wearing my sneakers,” I finally found my voice. For a second there, I wasn’t sure if I had it anymore. Mara stopped and turned in my direction, her eyes resting on my Ed Hardy Converse sneakers.

                “Yeah, I established that,” And there she goes, rolling of the eyes. I could feel my blood start to boil. I cannot believe anyone could be the biggest, flakiest person on the planet. I feel so ashamed to be related to her. Mara could get anything she wanted, without having to reach great lengths to get it. Everything just falls at her feet and not just the guys. Mara had some nerve telling me to stop trying to be like her. Just because I’m wearing a dress, a little powder on my face and some lip gloss, I’m suddenly trying to be like Mara? When that happens, someone please pass me my shotgun. I’m too good to be a skank. I definitely couldn’t get any luck from Laurie. She just gave me a quick glance, told me I looked pretty and walked right on passed me. It would be nice if Laurie stood up for me just once in her life.

                After those words from the skank’s mouth, I still couldn’t help but feel my self-esteem tumble way down. I started to feel insecure in this little dress and I thought maybe I dressed up too much. I had to change. I darted upstairs just as soon as the doorbell rang.

                “Marsha, get the door!” I heard my mom yell from downstairs. Nope, not happening, I’m already upstairs. I laughed sarcastically when I heard my mom start to protest. By the sound of it, someone ended up answering the door. I never caught who came in though. I shut my bedroom door behind me and then stuck my face in my closet.

                The chatter from downstairs started to get louder which meant more and more people are starting to show up. I laid a couple of nice camisoles that I hardly ever worn over my bed and stood in front of them, my fingers clutching my chin in thought. I growled in frustration and threw the clothes back in my closet, not bothering to hang them up. I’ll let my mom yell at me for it later. I began to reach for a white cashmere sweater when there was a knock at my door. My hand froze mid reach and my eyelids drooped.

                “Who is it?” I called. Behind me, I could hear the door open.  

                “It’s just me, Marsh.” I opened my eyes. I heard that voice before. I turned just as Laurie started to close the door behind her. Relief washed over me.

                 “I need to talk to you.” She said, looking at the floor. I placed my hand over my heart. Laurie wants to talk? I had the urge to start fist pumping right then and there, but I held my ground.

                “About what?” I asked pulling the sweater down from the rack.

                “What are you doing?” She asks. I grin, almost forgetting what her voice sounded like. At twenty years old, she still sounds like a little girl. I threw the sweater on my bed and sighed.

                “I’m trying to find something else to wear and I’m failing.” I took the sweater off the hanger. My fingers slid under my dress and just as I was about to pull it off, Laurie jumped forward and grabbed my hands.

                “No, Marsha, don’t change.”

                “And why the hell not,” I narrowed my eyes to her, holding the dress midway up my torso.

                “Because if you change, Mara wins,”

                I lowered my eyes to my shag carpet, feeling in every inch of me that Laurie’s right. I pulled my dress back down over my hips and sat down on the bed.

                “You look very pretty just the way you are.” Laurie said, kneeling down in front of me.

                “I don’t feel like myself in this though. I feel very uncomfortable.”

                “You only feel uncomfortable, because Mara already talked down to you and you lost all your ability to control your emotions.”

                “What?” I blinked. Laurie sighed and pulled me off the bed. I reluctantly dragged myself along.

                “Marsha, I want you to knock all of Mara’s snarky comments out of your brain, okay. This is your party and you wear what you want to wear. Don’t let Mara win. If you do, then she’ll keep on walking all over you. It’s time to take a stand and kick her where the good lord split her.” I leaned forward and laughed into her shoulder. Having Laurie here with me I suddenly felt much better. I felt like a huge weight got lifted off my shoulders.

                “One more thing,” Laurie said lifting her index finger in front of my face.

                My face fell. “You’re not going to make me wear heels are you?”

                Laurie laughed. “No, put some nice flip flops on and…” she turned me toward my vanity mirror. She reached up and pulled the clip out of my hair. “Let your hair fall.”

 My hair fell perfectly around my shoulders. I looked at myself for the first time in my life and felt pretty. I didn’t have to be all glammed up to be beautiful. I already am beautiful. It just takes one swift kick in the butt to get me to notice that. I smiled and put my arm around Laurie’s waist. I kicked off my converse and slipped some black flip flops with rhinestones covering the straps.

                “Okay, maybe I was thinking we can add some eyeliner…”

                “That’s it, I’m going back downstairs,” I quickly let go of Laurie and skipped out of my room. She joined me out in the hall a few seconds later. We laughed all the way back down to the party. I felt like we were best friends again.

                As I entered the living room, a swarm of relatives quickly surrounded me. Laurie let go of my hand and backed up before they could pushed her out of the way. I put on a smile and hugged everyone back. After everyone was done hugging and kissing on me, I was pulled into the kitchen by my mom, but not before catching a glimpse of Beatrice and Artie standing side by side at the food table.

                “What are Grandma Beatrice and Artie doing?” I asked glancing back over to them. My mom turned her head slightly in their direction.

                “It looks like talking. It’s what adults do,” She put her hand on my shoulder, bringing my attention back in her direction. “Where did you disappear to?”

                “My bedroom, I had to do some spicing up.”

                Mom nodded and pulled me closer to her. She leaned down slightly and whispered. “You look pretty.” I smiled, feeling the tears spring up in the corner of my eyes. It’s been years since I heard my mother give me a compliment. Ever since she and my father divorced, all the fun stopped. It’s been go, go, go, ever since.

I swung my arm up and gave her a hug, thanking her. She nodded once again and went to mingle with my Grandpa Bill. I felt nervous as I walked over to my Grandma Artie. I had to tell her the truth about how I felt. The guilt is killing me.

                “Grandma Artie?” She broke off mid-sentence while speaking to Grandma Beatrice and turned around. Her smile lit up her eyes when she saw me. My heart sunk. She’s always so happy to see me and now I’m about to break her heart.

                “Congratulations, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you. You’re a college girl now,” She lifted my arms up and looked me up and down. “Wow, you look pretty. This is new.” I laughed and nodded, falling back into her arms once again. She pulled me back and gave me one last look over, before squeezing my hands close to her chest.

                “Marsha, I just want to thank you for the invitation.”

                “That’s what I need to talk to you about,” I swallowed my mouth dry. “Grandma, you do know that you’re welcome anytime without an invite right?”

                “Right,” She smiled. “But it’s the thought that counts and I really appreciate it.” She kissed my forehead and at that moment I felt like I didn’t deserve to be kissed. I felt myself start to shake and the panic start to rise. I don’t know if I can do this.

                “What if I told you that I didn’t want to send you an invitation?” I choked out, my voice low and tiny. I managed to keep my eyes glued to her hands

                She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”               

                I rubbed my arms nervously. I suddenly felt sick. I cannot believe I’m so selfish. “It’s not that I didn’t want you here. Of course I do, but I was just hoping that uh…er…this is hard to say.”

                “Just say it, dear,” She pulled me close to her and put her arm around my shoulder. I took a deep breath and finally let all my feeling out.

                “I would be okay if only you or Grandma Beatrice were here, but not both of you. I didn’t want both of you here, because I didn’t want you guys to start fighting, like you guys did on my birthday. So, I thought if I didn’t send off the invitations, maybe you wouldn’t have come, but deep down I knew you still would have. I love you so much and the thought of not inviting you was killing me, so I ended up mailing them anyway. For once I didn’t want a special day of mine to be ruined.”

                And the truth is out. I thought telling the truth was supposed to make you feel better, so why do I feel worse than before? I avoided her gaze the best I could. Even when she put her finger underneath my chin and turned me toward her, but it didn’t last. I had to look her in the eye. There was no avoiding it this time.

                “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” I whispered, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

                “Marsha, I’m not.”

                I wasn’t expecting that answer. I looked at her, my lips quivering. “How can you not be? I feel so selfish.”

                “Sweetheart, you’re honest and to tell you the truth I wouldn’t blame you, but can I tell you something?”

                “Sure,” I sighed.

                “Well, since you haven’t really been around me or Beatrice since your birthday, a lot has changed since then.”

                “Like what?” She smiled at me and pulled me over to Grandma Beatrice. I smile and give Beatrice a kiss on the cheek. I rest my right hand on her hip while my other hand held Grandma Artie’s.

                “Your Grandma Beatrice and I actually have stuff to talk about now. Things are better between us and we both agreed that tonight would be the night that we tell you that. We actually came here together.”

                My mouth shot open in shock. I felt like the worst granddaughter in the entire universe. I cannot believe I was so naïve to see that these two women could ever get along.

                “I’m so sorry. I feel so bad,” I fanned myself with my hand feeling really hot, but then again I’m completely embarrassed.

                “We know you are. It’s okay, we’re not mad.” I embraced them at that moment, one on each side of me. I held them close, finally feeling the comfort of my family for the first time in years. For the last couple of months, I dreaded this party, but it turned it out to be just what I needed.

                “I hate to be the barrier of bad news, but I need to steal Marsha from you guys.” Laurie said walking up to us. I pulled myself out of my Grandmother’s arms and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. Laurie took my hand and pulled me into the living room.

                “What is going on with you? Is Mara’s hair on fire?”  I laughed at my own joke. Laurie smiled and shook her head. I pursed my lips together and snapped my fingers. If only Mara’s hair was really on fire. That would be funny as hell.

                “Don’t look now, but there is a fine looking guy checking you out.” Laurie leaned in and whispered to me.

                I gave a nervous laugh. “Excuse me?” Laurie grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me in the direction of the mystery man. My eyes widened when I saw him. I turned sharply back toward Laurie.

                “Oh my God, it’s Josh,” I squealed.

                “You know him?”

                I nodded, my lips shut tightly together. “Yeah, he’s in my class. I have no idea he was coming tonight. I’ve had a crush on him since eighth grade.”

                “What are you doing still standing here? Go talk to him,”

                “I don’t want to, I’m scared.”

                “Now,” Laurie nudged me forward. I stumbled a bit then collected myself. I smiled shyly and kept my head low as I made my way to Josh. Oh my jeez, he looks so cute tonight and I probably look like a total idiot.

                “Hey…” I managed to squeeze out. Josh smiled. I melted at the sight of his dimples. God bless his parents for making such a beautiful offspring.

                “Hey, Marsha,”

                “Hi, hi, Josh,” I stammered. I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally kicking myself. Come on Marsha, keep it together. Don’t overdo it. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

                “You invited me,”

                I blinked a couple times. “I did?” Josh nodded. I felt like a hand came out of nowhere and slapped me upside the head. “Oh, oh yeah, I did, didn’t I?” I nodded, thinking about the invitations I sent off. I had a pile for just my friends and I made sure I had Josh somewhere in the pile, although I wasn’t expecting any of my friends to show up.

                “I wasn’t expecting you. I assumed you were having your party tonight too.”

                Josh shook his head and took a step closer to me. There goes the heart. “No, I had my party last night.”

                “Oh. Well…yay me,” Here comes another slap to the head. Why do I have to be so giddy?

                “You look really great tonight, Marsha. “ He actually gave me a compliment. Have I died and gone to Heaven? I pulled my arms behind me and gave myself a little pinch. Nope, I am not dreaming.

                “Thank you, Josh.”

                “Marsha, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for quite some time now. Since we’re graduating, I might not have another chance.” Josh slowly took my hands and took another step closer to me.

                I took a deep breath and held it for a brief moment before slowly letting it out. “What is it?”

                “I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. I’ve like you for a very long time and I’m now just getting the courage to ask you. I didn’t before, because I didn’t want to get rejected or I didn’t want you to laugh at me.”

                I stood stiff as a board, my eyes wide and a tight smile plastered on my face. After what it seemed like an uncomfortable couple minutes of silence, I was finally able to breathe and to speak.

                “I was hoping you would ask me.” I began to relax. Seeing Josh’s smile grow bigger, made my heart skip. Josh pulled me into him and I wrapped my arms tightly around his middle.  The butterfly’s danced around in my stomach. I finally got my first real boyfriend, someone I always thought was out of my league. Josh liked me, for me. At first I thought it was the dress and the hair, but when he told me how much he liked me before this night, made me feel good about myself. I don’t have to wear skimpy clothes, or have the perfect hair and makeup to get a guy to notice me.

                I just have to be me.