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||꒰𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂꒱||
"Mom, can you come to help me tie this?" I called from my bedroom. I wanted to look perfect and I couldn't quite tie my dress's ribbon tight enough.
"Coming, honey." She burst into my room and carefully pulled it back into a bow. "You look great. I'm sure everyone will wish they looked like you!"
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks, mom, but I doubt it. It's fine though, I really couldn't care less."
Ruffling my hair, she shook her head. "Bryce is lucky."
"Hey, you're gonna mess up my hair!"
"You haven't even done it yet!" My mom looked like she was stifling a laugh.
"Exactly why you need to leave! I'm going to be late if you keep stalling," I exclaimed.
"Okay, okay, I'm leaving!" And she walked out of the room. I turned on my curling iron that rested atop my dresser.
After a minute or so, it had heated up to the wanted temperature, and I began to force my hair into neat waves.
Finally, I found my pair of white ballet flats, and I slipped them over my socks. Thankfully, my feet hadn't grown much, so they still fit.
As I was walking out into the kitchen, a knocking came from the front door. I rushed over and swung it open to see Bryce standing in front of me. He was wearing a lilac tie that matched my dress and a well-fitting suit. His shoes looked as though they had just been shined.
•••
The car ride was short, and I got on with Mrs. Loski fairly well.
"Do you want some punch?" Bryce asked quietly but politely.
"Yes, thank you," I replied. This left me at the table with Darla. "So," I said awkwardly, trying to start a conversation.
"Sooo... I see you two are matching," she said with a giggle. I swear, she likes my relationship as much as I like Bryce.
"Yeah, I guess my mom told his mom to get his a matching tie," I said. "He's really sweet though."
Darla grinned. "Maybe you're lost in love land too! You look like you're not even in the conversation!"
I mentally facepalmed myself for saying that. "Love is a strong word..."
"And your feelings aren't strong? Oh well, I'll let you sort that one out on your own." She tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "Any interesting news?"
"Well, no, we've kissed a bit but that's all," I replied bashfully.
"Aww! Ooh, don't look now, but I think Shelly saw you two come in together. She's glaring at you."
Naturally, I whipped my head around to look. "I told you not to look!" Shelly met my eyes and seemed to puff her chest a little. I just shrugged and smiled.
"It's fine, Darla," I said as I turned back to face her.
"Well, your lover boy is walking back over here. I'll leave," she said, taking the arm of the boy who was approaching her.
"Here's your punch," he told me as he handed me a cup.
I smiled. "Thanks." Taking a drink of the sweet liquid, I noticed that Shelly had moved and still looked mad. I then realized that Bryce and I had gone a long moment without speaking.
"Do you wanna go dance?" he asked. Thank God, I was worried our conversation was more dead than a graveyard.
I took a final swing of the punch. "Yeah, sure."
He took my hand and we walked out onto the dance floor. People were bouncing and chaotically singing the song lyrics that played. Bryce and I began to do the same. It was honestly really fun, and I was ever so glad I had come. Had Bryce not asked me, I probably would've been at home, reading a book or something. But this was good. It was different, and out of my comfort zone. I liked it.
My favorite tune started playing from the speakers, and so I sang along. The whole situation just felt natural.
A while later, a slow, sentimental melody filled the room. I knew how people slow-danced, so I did my best to imitate the posture of my mother from when I had seen her dancing with my father. It was fairly simple, as we were really only swaying, after all.
We continued to sway to the music like branches of a sycamore in the wind, and I'm unsure of when, but I had leaned my head on Bryce's chest.
I contemplated our relationship in retrospection. We had both grown, and I would like to believe we bettered one another. Bryce was there for me and taught me people can change for good. And I was there for him, and I would help him in any way I could.
Feeling him press a kiss to my head, I felt incredibly grateful to have him. To have this. Because Bryce was different. He's my Bryce, and I'm glad.
