The Perfect Prom Date

by Marysue G. Hobika

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  BLOG INTRO

  BLOG #1

  BLOG #2

  BLOG #3

  BLOG #4

  BLOG #5

  BLOG #6A

  BLOG #6B

  BLOG #7

  BLOG #8

  BLOG #9

  BLOG #10

  BLOG SIGN OFF

  Smashwords Edition.

  Copyright © <2012>

  All rights reserved.

  I dedicate this book to my loving husband, Tom.

  BLOG INTRO

  The Birth of the 10 Steps to Getting the Perfect Prom Date

  If you googled “Prom Dates,” which then led you to this blog, it was no accident. It was fate! I wrote this blog especially for you. If you’re seeking a date to the prom, and not just any date, but “the date”, then this blog will help you get exactly that! How can I say that with such confidence? I invented the following 10 easy steps to getting the perfect prom date. If they worked for me, then they’ll work for you too. Allow me to explain.

  See, I was determined to go to my senior prom. I wasn’t going to miss it and it was only a few short months away. I’d been dreaming about it since freshman year. The dress, the strappy high hells, the matching purse, and of course the flawless makeup and manicured nails. However, there was one tiny little problem. I didn’t have a date.

  Why, you ask, didn’t I have a date to the single most important event of my high school career? Was there something wrong with me? I can honestly say that there was nothing wrong with me, not outwardly at least. I wasn’t super model material, but I was okay. I was five feet seven, a perfectly acceptable height and I was in good shape. I’d been on the swim team since I was seven years old. I had pretty green eyes, or so I’d been told. Doesn’t sound too bad, right?

  Okay, so if it wasn’t my looks, then it must have been something else. My personality? It was true that I was a bit of a bookworm, but what’s wrong with wanting to get good grades? I couldn’t help it that I was smart. Was I a social outcast? No, I had friends. Rachel was my best friend and we did everything together, but there was a large group of us that sat together every day at lunch. I also had a lot of friends from the swim team.

  So what was the problem then? Plain and simple, my bad luck with boys was because of two reasons. Number one, I had RED HAIR. It wasn’t the pretty kind either. I was stuck with bright red hair, and there was nothing I could do to change it, and believe me I’d tried. My hair color was like a curse. Number two was my LITTLE SISTER. In fact she was the very reason I came up with these ten steps. Still don’t believe me? Just keep following my blog and see for yourself.

  Senior Prom was just three months away, and my annoying younger sister was reminding me daily, that even though she was only a sophomore, she already had a date to MY prom! One Saturday afternoon she burst into my room without knocking and exclaimed, “I can’t believe it. When I was at the mall today I tried on the most amazing dress. It hugged my curves perfectly.” She ran her hands over her body, emphasizing what she meant. I rolled my eyes and went back to painting my toenails. “I had to put it on hold because I need to ask mom for money. I can’t wait until Trent sees me in it. He asked me like weeks ago, ya’ know.”

  “Go tell someone who cares,” I shrugged without looking up. I found the best way to get rid of her was to act disinterested. If I let on that I was upset because I still didn’t have a date, she would only make my life miserable.

  Ellie laughed. “Like you don’t care. I know better than anyone that you want to go to the prom. I see you and Rachel pour over the prom magazines every time a new one comes in the mail.” She smirked like she was hiding something. “What is the point of those magazines, anyway? Is there a mail-order date section in the back?” She chuckled.

  I looked up from painting my nails and glared.

  She laughed again, “If you’re lucky, maybe your friend Simon will ask you.”

  “Shut up, Ellie,” I said, as my face turned as red as a tomato, completely blowing my cover.

  “OMG – he asked you, didn’t he?”

  I tried to deny it. “No, ” I answered quickly, my voice rising an octave. I knew she didn’t believe me. I was a terrible liar.

  “I can tell by the look on your face that he did,” she grinned. “Well, what did you say? I hope you told him yes. ”

  “Of course, I didn’t say yes,” I exclaimed. Simon and I were friends and we were in a lot of the same classes, but he wasn’t my type. “I tried to let him down easy,” I sighed, remembering the awkward moment and the hurt look on his face. Of course, leave it to Ellie to remind me! I resumed painting my nails, trying to ignore her.

  “You should have said yes. Who else do you really think is going to ask you?”

  I didn’t answer. My eyes shot upward and my face got hot again.

  “Oh...I get it,” Ellie said slowly. “You’re holding out for Brennan to ask you. I know you have a crush on him.”

  “I do not,” I declared, trying to act cool. I really didn’t want Ellie to know that secretly I did have a crush on him. How could she have guessed that?

  “Whatever,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve seen how you look at him. You practically droll.” She laughed. “Not that I blame you. He is adorable. If I didn’t already have a boyfriend, I’d be after Brennan,” she sighed. I remained silent, wishing Brennan would ask me to be his date to the prom. “Josie, you can’t honestly believe he’d ask you when he could have any girl at school?”

  “Why not? What’s wrong with me?” I stood up angrily. I forgot all about my mini-pedicure, almost knocking the open bottle of nail polish over. I scrambled to screw the cap on and then slammed it down on my nightstand.

  Ellie paused before answering, examining me from head to toe. “Nothing, really,” she shrugged, surprising me. “You are my sister, after all. However, it’s hard to tell when you’re always hiding underneath those ridiculously huge sweatshirts,” she pointed at me, “like the one you’re wearing now. Seriously, you need to dump them all in the trash and buy yourself some cute tops that are actually your size. While you’re at it, take your hair out of that childish ponytail and put on some makeup.” She took a step toward me and touched my hair, “I’ll give you a makeover.”

  I slapped her hand away. “Are you serious? I don’t want or need your help. The last time you helped me, my hair turned a hideous shade of orange.” My anger intensified as I thought back to the summer before freshman year when Ellie helped me get a new look for high school by dying my hair. I went from having red hair, which was bad enough, to having unnaturally bright orange hair.

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “It was only three years ago!” I shouted at her. Three years was definitely not enough time to forget how horrible I looked. My mom wouldn’t even take me to the hair salon to get it fixed because she wanted to teach me a lesson – how no good ever came out of trying to dye red hair. She said I should feel lucky to have such a beautiful hair color. Yeah, right!

  “You can’t still hold that against me. I was only twelve years old!”

  “Of course, I can. It’s your fault that I was the laughingstock of the whole school that year. And worse yet, people remind me of it all the time. Hell, they’ll probably still be bringing it up at my twenty year reunion.”

  “So what?” she said, trying to brush it off like it was no big deal. “Seriously, I can help you if you want.”

  “Get out!” I screamed.

  Ellie didn’t budge. She remained as calm and cool as ever. I cracked under pressure and tended to fly off the handle, but not Ellie. She just got even. I saw her eyes light up, and I g
roaned inwardly. I knew that look, and it meant that she was about to say something that I wouldn’t like. “I’ve seen the pathetic binder that you and Rachel made.”

  My stomach felt queasy and my legs almost gave out. There was no way Ellie could know about that. I had to play this cool. “What are you talking about?” I asked, feigning ignorance. She had to be talking about something else. Anything else. My life would be pure hell if Ellie knew about the binder that Rachel and I had been passing back and forth, adding pictures that we cut out of magazines of our favorite prom dresses, hairstyles, shoes, and accessories. There was no telling what Ellie would do.

  “You know, the binder called ‘Everything Prom’,” she mocked, using air quotes. My stomach flipped. Oh no! She really did see it. I was nervous and angry all at once.

  “What were you doing in my room?” I took a step closer to her, narrowing my eyes.

  “I couldn’t find my favorite red top, you know the one that I look totally hot in, and I really needed it. I had a date with Trent. I thought maybe you took it. I went in your room to look for it, and that’s when I found your sad little binder at the bottom of your dirty clothes bin. You really should find a better hiding spot for things you don’t want me to find. As soon as I opened it up and saw the pictures and the comments you and Rachel had written, I stopped looking for my shirt. It was painfully obvious that you wouldn’t know fashion if it showed up in your closet.” She laughed.

  Suddenly, I wanted to kill her. “Get out of my room.” I reached behind me and grabbed the book I had been reading off of my bed, and threw it at her, hitting her hard on the head. I was glad it was a hardcover and not a paperback.

  “Ouch,” Ellie cried, rubbing her head. “Not cool, Josie. You’re going to pay for that,” she snarled. She bent over and picked up the book, “Sense and Sensibility. Really? This is why you don’t have a date to the prom, and I do. You spend way too much time reading romantic garbage from the turn of the century. Get a life.” She shook her head at me and spun on her heel, getting the last word in like always.

  I shot daggers at her retreating back and slammed the door. I leaned against it, trying to settle my stomach. I felt nauseous. Ellie would probably tell the whole school about “Everything Prom” just to be spiteful. The only good news was that I was sure Ellie hadn’t taken it, because it had been weeks since I had hidden it in my dirty laundry. Then panic struck me. I raced to my closet and rummaged around until I found the box where I had most recently hidden it. I breathed a sigh of relief when my fingers finally touched it. I quickly thumbed through the pages, noting that none were missing. I hugged the binder close to my heart, vowing to never let Ellie get her hands on it again.

  Simultaneously I vowed to get a date to the prom. And not just any date. I had my heart set on Brennan. Suddenly 10 easy-fool-proof steps to getting the perfect prom date popped into my head.

  Step One: Pick Your Guy

  Step Two: Get His Attention

  Step Three: Flirting 101

  Step Four: Back Off

  Step Five: Surprise Him!

  Step Six: Flirting 102

  Step Seven: Pretend to be Interested in Someone Else

  Step Eight: Foreplay

  Step Nine: He Asks You – SCORE!

  Step Ten: PROM

  I couldn’t wait until Ellie saw me dancing at the prom with the hottest guy in the senior class. Oh, it was on, sister!

  Keep reading this blog to uncover the real secrets to getting the perfect prom date. In each blog entry I carefully explain one of the ten steps above in detail, including ideas on how to implement it. Like most blogs, please feel free to leave a comment. I’d love to know your thoughts and read about your success stories.

  BLOG #1

  Step One: Pick Your Guy

  What’s the name of the cute guy you’ve been crushing on all year? Does he sit behind you in math class? Do chills break out all over your body when he breathes on the back of your neck? Or is he the star of the basketball team who looked you right in the eye before he shot the game-winning basket? Or perhaps, he’s the shy quiet type who works at Starbucks where you buy coffee when he’s working, even though you don’t even drink coffee. Whatever the case, you’ve had your eye on him for months, and the first step is really easy. Decide he’s your guy.

  Let me guess, you’re feeling skeptical that Step One can really be that easy, right? That’s okay. I wouldn’t believe it either, except I know from experience that it is. Keep reading to find out what I mean…

  Brennan. A smile formed on my lips whenever I thought about him. He was the boy of my dreams. I had a crush on him from the moment he walked into my English class in the beginning of October. He was the most gorgeous boy I’d ever seen. My breath caught in my throat. He had short dark brown, almost black, hair and bright blue eyes. It was a striking combination. He was tall and lean, making me wonder if he played basketball. A hint of a smile played on his lips, showing off straight white teeth. Everything about him was perfect.

  “This is Brennan Fisher,” Mrs. Perkins said, introducing him to the class. “He’s from Buffalo, NY. Please be sure to show him what real southern hospitality is like.”

  “I’d be happy to show him,” Tracy cooed, while waving her hand in the air as if she was riding on a float in a parade. I rolled my eyes. Tracy was always flirting with one guy or another.

  “She sure can,” some guy shouted. The class laughed and cheered at her not so subtle innuendo. Personally, I found it disgusting. Brennan shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “That’s enough.” Mrs. Perkins shot everyone a stern look. The class grew quiet once again. “Mr. Fisher, please take the empty seat in the back row there, next to Miss McCall.”

  Mrs. Perkins pointed at me. My face flushed as he headed my way. I worried I would make a fool of myself like I usually did when I was around cute boys. I became clumsy and said the most idiotic things. My heart beat louder and faster with each step he took. I really didn’t want to mess this up.

  “Miss McCall, please be a dear and move your desk over, so that Brennan can look on with you. I’ll search down another copy of ‘Frankenstein’ for him tomorrow.”

  I smiled nervously, but before I got the chance to embarrass myself, Tracy did it for me. “Ah, Mrs. Perkins that’s not fair,” she whined. “You can’t expect our very own Frankenstein to show Brennan any southern hospitality.” She turned around and looked at me with disdain, “She’ll frighten him to death. I mean, just look at her freakishly bright red hair.” She laughed and the rest of the class joined her.

  My face flushed an even deeper shade of red and my eyes filled with tears. It wasn’t my fault that I had red hair – my family was Irish. Tracy was one of those girls who got off on being mean. Last year on November 20th, she sent a text around to everyone at school telling them that it was “National Kick a Ginger Day,” so whenever I walked down the hall, everyone kicked me. By the end of the day, my shins were covered in bruises. Today her malice was verbal instead of physical, but it still hurt. I kept my eyes down and didn’t even glance at Brennan as he settled into the desk next to mine. I didn’t want him to know I was about to cry.

  Mrs. Perkins shouted in order to be heard over the laughter, “That’s enough Miss Berry. I don’t want to hear another word from you, or you’ll end up in the main office.”

  The class settled down. Brennan slid his desk over when I didn’t make any attempt to move. I was temporarily frozen to the spot. I wanted to pull my hood over my red hair and disappear, but students weren’t allowed to wear hoods or hats in school. Instead I kept my face down, staring at the book without really seeing any of the words. I sat in awkward silence for the remainder of the class, counting down the minutes until it was over.

  I let out a sigh of relief when the bell finally rang, jumping out my seat to avoid another scene. Before I could get more than two steps, Brennan caught my arm and said, “Thanks for letting me look on with you.” He nodded in Tr
acy’s direction, she was lingering in the doorway, no doubt waiting to personally offer him her services, “You know, not all guys like girls like that.”

  His comment surprised me. I looked right into his bright blue eyes, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. I could barely tear my eyes away. It was at that moment I knew I had it bad. “Thanks,” I mumbled, smiling shyly. I turned and quickly made my way out of the classroom, before I said or did something stupid.

  So four months later, when I came up with the 10 easy steps to getting the perfect prom date, I didn’t hesitate. I picked BRENNAN to be my guy. Not only was he the hottest boy I had ever seen, he was also one of the nicest. He was different from all the other boys I knew.

  So what are you waiting for? Name YOUR GUY!

  Comments:

  prettyinpink: The first step is complete, I named my guy. I’m ready for Step Two.

  countrygirl: I love the idea of your 10 step plan. I hope each step is as easy as the first.

  1hipcheerleader: Too many hot guys to choose from. I’ll have to think it over carefully before I do anything rash.

  BLOG #2

  Step Two: Get His Attention

  Seems obvious, right? I mean how can a guy ask you to the prom if he doesn’t even know you exist? Or maybe he does, but he’s never thought about you in the potential-girlfriend kind of way. Well, you are about to change all of that.

  There are many ways to get his attention. Let’s start small and work our way to bigger details. PLEASE don’t overlook the small stuff, it is just as important, and it does make a difference.

  “Like what?” you ask. Take perfume for example. The right scent can go a long way. A guy can’t help being attracted to a girl who smells good. When he breathes in your new sweet scent as you walk by him in the hall, vibes will shoot down his body. Suddenly you’re on his radar. Next time you’re at the mall with your BFF be sure to pass by the perfume counter and spend some time searching for the scent that works best for you. Trust me – it won’t be a waste of your time as long as you remember to use it before heading out the door.