Next... This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   My hands were ishaking more than San Francisco during its massive earthquake. I was about to ask my "dream date" to the prom. Her blondish-brown hair flowed more softly than a gentle stream. Her eyes were a more beautiful green than a lush field after a summer shower. As I walked closer to her, I almost tripped. It seemed as if someone had placed a step in the middle of the hall. Finally reaching my destination, I tried to ask "The Question." The words seemed to come to a roadblock halfway up my throat. Clearing my throat and gathering all the courage necessary, I popped the question. Her reply was, "Ah, well, sure."

At that instant, Father Time was playing red light - green light, and for a moment my heart stopped. She actually said "Yes"! Well, okay, she said, "Sure," but it still meant yes. My ego flew higher and expanded to greater reaches than a firecracker on the Fourth of July. For many nights, my sleep had been disturbed by thoughts of what I was going to say when the big moment arrived. Tonight, however, I would sleep, content and excited.

Later the next day, the phone rang. "Hello?" A worried and shaky voice was on the other end. It was her! She actually called me! Not only did she say yes, but she called me as well! There was the usual small talk, but I sensed my rejoicing was premature. I saw myself as a jet plane flying over some Middle Eastern nation with a Stinger missile hot on my tail. Boy, did I ever hit the nail on the head! She said, "Uh, Matt, well, you see, there's kinda this other guy I sorta like, and I was going to ask him to the prom, but ...,"

It was either the phone or my jaw that hit the floor. I'm not sure which. I regained consciousness moments before the EMTs were about to administer CPR. My "dream date" had long since hung up. I couldn't find my pulse for an hour. It seemed that just as I had started walking down that luxurious long red carpet, it was yanked out from under me. When I finally returned to normal, I found I was thinking about other girls to ask to the prom. A bolt of lightning illuminated the sky when "she" popped into my mind. All through the night my sleep was interrupted with thoughts of what I was going to say. Finally, I fell asleep.

The next day my hands were shaking more than San Francisco during its massive earthquake. I was about to ask my new "dream date" to the prom. . . n


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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Imaginedangerous This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 14, 2010 at 9:20 am

I can't help but wonder how many girls he tried to ask before the story started... :)

Good job.

 
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