May 19, 2019

181 15 12
                                    

Dear Future Husband,

I had pretty reasonable expectations for prom.

They were exceeded.

I was so nervous leading up to it and I had no reason to be. As I was putting my dress on, I considered just pretending I was sick. I was convinced I was too young and not pretty enough and not popular enough to present myself in front of all of these (mostly) put together juniors.

I still forced myself into the dress and did my makeup and let Clarissa do my hair, in between moments of doubt where I would sit on the bathroom floor holding Lewis so tight to my chest I thought he might stop breathing. I think the reason I was most nervous was because I was worried I might not be able to please Grant. The only reason he was even coming tonight was because I pressured him into it and I wanted him to enjoy himself. I didn't want to disappoint him.

That did not seem to be a problem tonight.

As I walked down the stairs to meet him once he got to my house, you would've thought he was looking at Selena Gomez. I wasn't sure if it was me he was looking at or someone behind me. That look completely washed my worries away and I didn't feel like I was going to puke.

On top of that, he looked and smelled really good, and who doesn't like a handsome fragrant man?

We hung out at my house before the limo picked us up and then I really felt like a celebrity. It was a bit crowded with twenty some teenagers in it, and Kendra was practically on my lap, but the driver was blasting music and it was really fun. The only problem was that Grant looked like he was going to puke which made me nervous.

I took his hand as a song ended and he looked over at me, his face flushed. "Are you ok?" I asked him.

He smiled weakly, nodding. "Yeah, there's just a lot of kids in here."

"Tell me about it," I laughed. "Someone adjusted my shoe thinking it was theirs."

He laughed, some color coming back to his face. "You look incredible tonight."

I couldn't help but blush. I knew boyfriends were supposed to say stuff like that, but it still felt special every time he said it. "Thank you." I'm so awkward. Thank you? Really? How about a "you look really great too?"

"You're welcome." He laughed, squeezing my hand.

We finally made it to the venue and as fun as the limo ride was, it was nice to get some fresh air.

Grant didn't let go of my hand the whole time and I wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Good if he just liked holding my hand and wanted me to stay with him the whole night. Bad if he was really nervous and holding my hand for moral support.

At first, it was pretty low key as everyone got there. Grant still would not let go of my hand and we just hung out at one of the tables talking to Matt and Kendra.

They started setting dinner out and I figured we might as well get some food while it was hot, but Grant wouldn't budge.

"I'm not hungry."

"Ok," I sighed, watching as all of his friends scramble for food.

After probably half an hour the DJ started playing some good music and people started to drift onto the dance floor. Meanwhile, Grant and I were still sitting at the table.

"Let's dance." I said to him, starting to get up.

"I'm terrible at dancing," He laughed. "It's really bad."

"Come on," I groaned. "I won't judge."

"Everyone else will," He protested. "I don't want to embarrass you."

Dear Future Husband Where stories live. Discover now