Julianna Catching Fire

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty

Prom.

It was here.

And I was absolutely dreading it.

Prom was one of the biggest days of a girl's life, as we had been socialized to believe. No one could deny that - whether they're looking forward to it or not, whether they hated the whole idea of it or not. It's a once in a lifetime experience.

And mine was about to be ruined.

For starters, one lock of my hair would absolutely not curl. The stylist tried over and over and again and I tried numerous times, but it was just being stubborn. And it was beginning to piss me off.

Secondly, I was running late. I should have been ready thirty minutes ago but there I was in my black lacy La Perla bra and panty set, with my hair half finished and my make-up half-done.

Lastly, my date was not there. I should not have been expecting him, but I was anyway.

I sighed frustratedly as the make-up artist applied one coat of M.A.C. Double Dare over the two coats of Capricious by M.A.C. she'd already applied.

"Finally, it curled!" the hair said triumphantly, sticking one more pin in my hair.

I grabbed two envelopes from my vanity, one marked 'Hair' and the other marked 'Makeup' and handed them to their respective owners. They took them and scurried out of my room with nary a thank you.

I pulled on my dress, slipped on my shoes, and stuck my simple diamond studs in my ear. I eyed myself in my full-length, three-way mirror.

My make-up was flawless - a smokey eye with rosy, plum lips. My hair was parted in the middle, curled, and pulled back into a low, slightly messy bun. There was a curled piece of hair on either side of my face to frame my face.

I was wearing a strapless Marchesa gown: it was silk-crepe and taupe coloured with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice was pleated with bead embellishments. The skirt was pleated slightly and the back was draped dramatically with a flowing train. It clung to my body in all the right places but was still just the right amount of loose in certain areas.

I pulled my dress up a little and stuck my foot out to admire the six inch Jimmy Choo patent leather stilettos on my feet.

Everything came together perfectly, making me look sexy and elegant and absolutely stunning.

I had to admit it. I looked pretty darn amazing. And not the least bit worried, sad, or stressed, even though I felt it.

With a sigh I grabbed my cell phone and my satin, off-white Swarovski crystal-embellished Yves Saint Laurent clutch with I already filled with things I'd need. I walked out the house slowly, not really looking forward to the night ahead of me. I closed the door and took my time walking the limo.

"BOO!" someone shouted as I climbed into the black limo.

I shrieked before kicking them in the stomach with heel of my stiletto. I looked closer and realized it was Braden.

"What the heck do you think you're friggin' doing?!" I shouted angrily, slapping him on his arm repeatedly.

"Hey, stop!" he yelled.

After a few more slaps I stopped. "What was that for?" I demanded as I stared out the window, upset. We rolled down my driveway.

"What was that for?" I repeated, looking at Braden.