Paul's Story, Part 7


There I was, standing all alone in the middle of the ballroom, trying to figure out what happened. I tried to keep Wendy away from David, but David kept coming closer, and Wendy kept staring at him. Then Wendy ran off without warning. Then David went after her, losing her in the crowd, but not before giving me a menacing stare. So, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Wendy, who had promised me that prom night would be ours to enjoy, not to be ruined by David, had decided that she was indeed going to get back together with David. And she picked our prom night to do it. Great. I even remembered the conversation we had when we were deciding what color cummerbund I should get: "Now, I know that you and David have gone through these little stretches before, and you kept getting back together with him a few weeks later, and the prom is, what, three weeks away?" She laughed. "Yeah, I know. I've done that a lot before, huh? But like I told you, I made up my mind. Even if I do get back together with David, I'll be going with you to the prom. That's what he gets for being so mean to me during these last weeks. If he wants to go to a prom with me, he'll have to learn to behave for more than six weeks at a time." "Six? Come on, be reasonable..." We both laughed at that. Well, that was a while ago. Gordon tapped me on the shoulder and I realized I was still out on the dancefloor.
	by Brian Tivol

There I was, standing all alone in the middle of the ballroom, trying to figure out what happened. I tried to keep Wendy away from David, but David kept coming closer, and Wendy kept staring at him. Then Wendy ran off without warning. Then David went after her, losing her in the crowd, but not before giving me a menacing stare.

So, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Wendy, who had promised me that prom night would be ours to enjoy, not to be ruined by David, had decided that she was indeed going to get back together with David. And she picked our prom night to do it. Great. I even remembered the conversation we had when we were deciding what color cummerbund I should get:

"Now, I know that you and David have gone through these little stretches before, and you kept getting back together with him a few weeks later, and the prom is, what, three weeks away?"

She laughed. "Yeah, I know. I've done that a lot before, huh? But like I told you, I made up my mind. Even if I do get back together with David, I'll be going with you to the prom. That's what he gets for being so mean to me during these last weeks. If he wants to go to a prom with me, he'll have to learn to behave for more than six weeks at a time."

"Six? Come on, be reasonable..." We both laughed at that.

Well, that was a while ago. Gordon tapped me on the shoulder and I realized I was still out on the dancefloor.

by Brian Tivol