In 1985, my high school boyfriend kissed my forehead during the prom and promised to come back in five minutes. I never saw him again. Forty years later, an eight-year-old girl quietly put the missing boutonnière in my hands and whispered, “It must be with you.”
Every spring, someone asks me if I ever went to the prom.
Not out of curiosity.
But because the institute uses the gymnasium of our primary school every April, and the decorations always arrive at the cafeteria before the students.
Silver coils.
Fairy light boxes.
Balloons that refuse to stay where they have been beaten.
I spend the mornings serving macaroni and cheese while the teenagers carry cardboard stars down the hallway, arguing over the centerpieces.
Last Thursday, one of the youngest teachers leaned on the service counter while I was serving mashed potatoes.
“You know?” she said. You’d probably win the title of Queen of Dance today.
I laughed. “Oh, honey. That train passed a long time ago.
“So you went?
“Once.
She smiled. “What was he like?”
The question took me by surprise.
Before I could respond, three second-year students began arguing about who had the largest portion of mashed potatoes.
I pointed to the trays. “No one leaves until those carrots are over.
The teacher laughed and left. He forgot the conversation.
Not me.
That morning, after forty years following exactly the same routine, I had opened the small cedar box of the comfortable of my bedroom.
Inside rested an already lacklustered doll bouquet. The ribbon had gone from white to cream.
The tiny flowers had become so delicate that I was almost afraid to touch them.
But every spring… I did.
Because Michael had asked me to keep it forever.
“I’ll stay with my boutonnière,” he said. You stay with your bouquet. And when we are old and have wrinkles…” He had smiled. “…we will see what flower survives longer.”
I remember putting my eyes on white.
“Were you already assumed that we would reach old and wrinkled?”
Life had other plans.
***
Michael and I started dating in the middle of a second year of high school.
He was that kind of person who couldn’t cross the high school parking lot without stopping to help someone.
I was the girl who always carried two books from the library instead of one, because I liked having a plan B.
He forgot his homework. I organized them by colors.
He talked to strangers. I apologized to phone vendors before hanging up.
People were constantly asking what we saw in each other.
Michael always answered first.
One afternoon, we had stayed to go to the movies.
He arrived twenty minutes late.
I crossed my arms. “You have forgotten.”
“No.” He pointed to the gas station across the street. “Mrs. Donnelly had left the keys inside the car.”
I Sighed. “You helped her.”
“He was melting the ice cream.”
“You missed the trailers.”
He smiled. “They’ll make more movies.”
I tried not to laugh.
I didn’t get it.
That was Michael. I honestly believed that anyone who was having a bad day deserved their full attention.
Sometimes he would make me crazy. Most of the time, I made me want it even more.
***
The night of the prom came with such a pleasant temperature that no one needed a jacket.
My mother cried while she was picking up my hair. My father pretended not to be excited, until he mistakenly called Michael a “son.”
Michael arrived exactly nine minutes late.
I opened the front door with my hands in pitchers.
He had a guilty face. “I can explain it.”
“You stopped to help someone.”
“The Coopers’ dog had escaped.”
I stared at him. “Have you chased a golden retriever in tuxedo?”
“For almost fifteen minutes.”
I denied with my head. “I don’t know whether to kiss or yell at you.”
He smiled. “I hope the first thing.”
I laughed before I could avoid it.
My mother whispered from the kitchen…
I intended to do it.
***
The gym looked magical.
Thousands of lights were reflected in the silver streams that hung from the ceiling. Someone had transformed our usual basketball court into something that seemed to be taken from a classic movie.
Michael made me walk around while we were dancing to our first piece.
“You know…?”
“I think we’re dressed too easily.
I looked down at my dress. “We literally wore label clothes.
He pointed his head at the decoration. “The balloons look expensive.
I laughed so hard that the couple next door also started laughing, although they hadn’t heard the joke.
That happened often when I was with Michael.
Happiness radiated from him without asking permission.
Towards the end of the evening, they announced the king and the queen of the dance.
Neither of us expected to win.
When they said our names, Michael looked back because he thought they were wrong.
“They mean you,” I whispered.
He leaned toward me. “I knew that hanging out with the smart girl would end up paying off.
You are impossible.
He squeezed my hand all the way to the stage.
Someone placed a plastic crown on my head. Michael’s head leaned to the side immediately.
The photographer tried to straighten it out three times. Every time, Michael unintentionally twisted her again.
By the time the fourth attempt came, I laughed so much that I couldn’t sit still.
Anyway, the photos were perfect.
