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    robertlee
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Being Cam - 5. October 3rd

The big dance had finally arrived. Emma and I decided, or I should say Emma decided alone, it would be much less pathetic for me to take her as my date. Whether I wanted to or not, we were going together. Mom fretted for hours over spiffing me up to look like one of those fake kids out of the catalogs.

There was no person in the world outside of Hollywood that actually looked like those people. Expensive clothing, perfectly manicured hair, perfect teeth that shined white as a fresh snow, and a face that never had to deal with a real childhood of acne and scars. Somehow my mom made it work.

Actually, I didn’t look half bad.

My suit jacket was navy blue with a lighter shade of blue dress shirt underneath, red bow tie and khaki slacks. I slicked my hair back with some gel and actually was surprised with how good I looked in the mirror. I’d have to remember this look.

Emma showed up at exactly 7:35. Five minutes later than she was supposed to be here. She didn’t understand how much being on time meant to me. One of those habits that drove me absolutely insane.

“Where have you been?”

Emma rolled her eyes as dramatically as possible.

“Shut up, you baby! I’m here and that’s all that matters.”

Maybe to her. But she looked fantastic, it was almost enough to forgive her. A long flowing red dress, gemstones covering the strap that laid across her neck. Her hair was up in a styled bun sprayed with glittery hairspray that sparkled in the light. Definitely enough to forgive her.

“Wow, girl. You look awesome!”

The girl sounded weird coming from my mouth but oddly felt right. Maybe I was just thinking too much about who I was or who I would be a couple years from now. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was this moment, the now, the present. Everything else would have to wait.

“Get your head out of your butt and get over here.”

Jen and Marla stood at the top of the stairs watching us all below. They liked to think they were above everyone anyway. (Remember the quotes earlier?) For once, their judgmental looks didn’t bother me. Mom finally rounded the corner and immediately teared up.

“Mom, stop it!”

She smiled through the tears shaking her head.

“You two look perfect. So adorable. Get together now. I need pictures.”

We posed in various positions for what seemed liked hours and hours. My arms around Emma’s waist with her in front of me. Her arms wrapped around my neck looking into my eyes like she was going to kiss me. Then the mother son picture. The sister picture. The date with the family picture.

We were really going to be late at this point.

“Mom, come on. We gotta go. Please?”

“Oh fine, dear. Just one more picture!”

Mom waited until we started walking out the door to snap a picture with us both looking over our backs at her, smiles plastered on our faces as we waved goodbye. It looked like one of those pictures from a wedding as they walk out of the church and everyone tosses the rice in the air. It was perfect.

Everything felt right for once.

Copyright © 2017 robertlee; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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