Prom Night (Private~Mature)

Chloe was a timid, yet sweet girl; most people knew this. She tended to stay out of things that didn't concern her as a high school student. She stuck to her school work and didn't speak to anyone who was out of her league. And she knew who these people were.

Her hair was a soft blond color, smooth to the touch and set in natural, flowing curls down to the middle of her back; her eyes a deep blue, like the ocean depths. She looked more like her father then anything, her mother had passed on soon after she had Skylar, so she had never met the woman, only being raised by her father.

Her best friend was a taller, skinny girl who went by the name Kayla. She played volleyball, and was good at it too. She was one of those people that was only friends with one of the non popular kids (Chloe), and the rest of her buddies were like people from the football team. At times, Chloe wondered why this girl was friends with her, but she didn't dare question it.

Tonight, in most high schools, was the night where memories were made. Most of them were good ones, but sometimes something happens that can never be undone. As she stood there, against the wall, she wondered about this as people passed by, talking and laughing, dancing and singing. Kayla had driven her; her father was at work and couldn't even pick her up. He had felt bad about it, but she had assured him that it was alright.

Kayla had also helped with her hair that was set into the usual soft curls, but with more vigor, hairspray coated them, but didn't ruin the vanity. The curls flowed over her shoulders to the dark blue, long trail of a dress that accented her eyes. It was strapless, clinging to her skin, the breast and torso beaded. It flowed down from the hips to past her ankles; if you asked her, she would tell you that she was already having a hard time trying not to trip over it.

As she stood there, she tried not to meet anyone's eyes, but it was kind of hard, watching them as she was. She wanted to be in there, dancing with a tall man. And where was Miranda? Dancing with her own guy, the quarterback for the football team. She sighed and shuffled her feet, looking down at her toes that poked out from the bottom of the dress and the strap black stilettos.