I fled the salon feeling very defeated. I was scarcely able to contain myself. In front of me, my vision of the ideal prom night was disintegrating.
When I finally arrived home, I shut myself in my room and sobbed uncontrollably.
Sitting at my dressing table, I attempted to style my own hair, but nothing seemed to work. I was embarrassed that I had told Carla about my ideas at all.
Even though my lovely violet dress was hanging nearby, I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to go.
I questioned whether wearing cosmetics was really worth it after taking a look at it. I felt like nothing positive was going to happen tonight, and I was really upset.
I heard a loud honking outside at that moment. I initially disregarded it, assuming it was just a passing car.
However, the honking continued.
I forced myself to the window to wipe away my tears, hoping to get a glimpse of something going on outside. However, I was taken aback as I peered out.
A gorgeous black limousine was parked directly in front of our house.
I assumed that must have been an error of some kind. That limo was definitely not for me. I had discussed acquiring one with my pals, but their parents had refused.
However, I couldn’t help but rush downstairs to find out what was happening.
My dad was standing on the porch, looking as perplexed as I did, when the limo’s driver got out as I was standing by the front door.
The driver said, “I’m here for Miss Emily, sir,” and held out a card.
“Miss Emily” ? Was this thing for real?
“She’s right here,” my dad remarked as he gave me the card.
With trembling hands, I opened it. There was a note inside, neatly handwritten:
