After getting home, taking care of the dogs, and tending to some chores, I flossed my teeth and brushed them twice. I then took a long shower, washing my hair twice and doing an extra conditioning treatment. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my hair up in a towel before drying off. I put on my bra and panties before wiping the steam off the bathroom mirror, finally taking the towel from my head, setting my hair free.
I had a lot of hair. Like, a ridiculous amount. It was very thick and wavy, and it was quite heavy. I got headaches if I tried wearing my hair up in a ponytail in the middle of the back of my head as it pulled on my neck. I had to secure my updos practically on top of my head to circumvent gravity. While Krista had natural, thick curls, my hair tended to be on the frizzy side, hence why I usually wore it up; it was just too much to manage. To wear my hair down meant I needed to add styling products to it, and I could rarely be bothered. I had tried short hair once, only to have to pin it back as I looked like an overgrown poodle. I had gotten a trim when the girls and I had been getting ready for the reunion on Saturday, but even then, I had my stylist put it in a casual updo for me.
My wet hair fell to the middle of my back. Since I had used plenty of conditioner, I was able to easily pull a wide tooth comb through it. Once it was detangled, I added in a styling cream that I hoped would control the frizz, especially since it was a warm summer night with a touch of humidity in the air. I ruffled it up a bit with my hands before reaching for my hair dryer, which had a diffuser attachment on it. I hadn’t done my hair this way since prom night in my sophomore year, but I fortunately still remembered how I needed to style it. Not only was our sophomore year prom the last dance I went to with Matty, it was the last school dance I went to, period.
Our school didn’t have junior or senior proms; the prom was something every student could attend every year, meaning it wasn’t as special to the older kids, leaving the attendance to mainly to the lower grades. The upper-classmen usually only showed up briefly or skipped the dances altogether in favor of driving over to the next city to go to fancy dinners and to party at the clubs. Most of our friends didn’t bother going to any of the dances our junior and senior years; which was fine by me, as once Matty moved away, I didn’t have any interest in going to them anymore, anyway. If a boy asked me to go with him to any of the dances, I would lie and say I was going to be out of town and unable to attend. I’d then hide in my bedroom from Friday night to Monday morning the weekend of the dance for fear someone would see me and call me out on my fib.
Once I got my hair dried to a damp state, I turned off the hair dryer and went into my bedroom. I had a closet full of nice dresses, most of them black, mostly for the university events I was mandated to attend. I had thought about wearing another black sheath dress, similar to the one I had worn to the reunion as I knew those flattered my figure; but instead I instinctively pulled out a shiny royal blue short circle skirt dress with spaghetti straps. I had worn it on a cruise with my family once during a formal night. It was louder than I typically felt comfortable wearing – I’d only worn it on the cruise as my mom had bought it for me - and it was really too fancy for dinner at Nonna’s; but I knew how much Matty loved blue. And loved me in blue. So, I decided to be brave and to take a chance on wearing it. Something told me that if I let Matty choose my dress for the evening, he would have selected this one out of my closet, just as he had chosen my dresses for dances so many years ago.
“Leah, how about this one?” Matty asked as we perused formal dresses at a department store in the mall while shopping for the winter formal of our freshman year. “I could get a matching tie for it.” He had pulled a bright blue gown off the rack; all of his suggestions had thus far been blue.
Matty had come along with me and my mom to look for my dress. He didn’t ask to come; when he found out we were going, he just showed up and got in the car. Neither my mom nor I thought anything of it as we’d both become used to Matty tagging along.
“Err, I don’t know, Matty,” I said with a concerned look. “It’s really, really blue!”
“I know, but you look great in blue!” he said before shrugging, hanging the dress back up, and going back to the racks to see what else he could come up with.
This was the first formal dress I’d ever had to shop for, and I had no idea what to choose. Most of my friends had already purchased their dresses, but their styles were all over the place. Krista and a few other girls were going to wear short dresses with long sleeves, while other friends of ours had gotten long gowns with spaghetti
