The Promposal (COMPLETE)

16- Girl's Bathroom

An encounter with a bratty sophomore wearing the same dress as me was only the first bad thing that happened to me at prom. Because shortly afterward, while me and Jonah are enjoying our soft serve in awkward silence, a huge group of people push past us. Jonah's ice cream flies out of his hands as we're shoved against the wall, and lands promptly on the bottom of my dress. 

"Oh my god," Jonah says while in shock. We both stare at the ice cream on my dress for a second, before some girl offers her napkin and shakes me out of my daze. 

I quickly scoop up as much ice cream as possible and throw it into the nearby trash can. Meanwhile, Jonah apologizes profusely, obviously uncomfortable. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" he repeats while grabbing more napkins to help.

"It's fine," I reassure him while wiping up the mess, "at least you got vanilla." 

I meant it as a joke, but it doesn't seem to help the situation much. Jonah still looks very guilty, and I don't know any other ways to console him. So instead of trying to fix the situation on the spot, I suggest that he dance without me while I fix myself up in the bathroom. 

I spend a few minutes wandering around the prom venue until one of the chaperones notices my confusion and asks if I need help. They guide me to the restroom, which is hidden fairly well in an empty hallway. Then it's up to me to get the vanilla ice cream stain off of Camila's dress before it dries. 

If it had been my dress, I probably would have just left it to stain. I hadn't spent too much money on that dress, and don't have plans to ever wear it again. But the fact that I am only borrowing this one makes me much more cautious. 

The bathroom is seemingly empty when I get there, so I set up shop in the middle of the sinks with a bunch of paper towels. My first step is to carefully dab water from the sink onto the bottom of my dress, meanwhile googling how to get an ice cream stain off. Then I add a little soap, and rinse off the section of the dress to see if it's gone. Despite my best efforts, there still seems to be a small smudge left over.

Just then, Camila bursts into the bathroom, tears streaming down her face. I jump at the sound of her sudden entrance, but then realize what's happening. The time bomb has gone off. As if I wasn't already facing my own problems, now I have to help her deal with hers.

"Edith?" she asks when she sees me perched over the sink. Then, as if seeing me made things worse, she starts to cry even harder. 

I walk up to Camila to make sure she doesn't fall over because I notice her swaying slightly. Then I place a hand on her shoulder and ask, "what happened?"

After a long breath, she responds "I saw Justin dancing with the guy from the other day."

I imagine punching Justin in the face. It's kind of a coping mechanism to deal with my anger. How could he be so insensitive. It takes a complete idiot to cheat on their girlfriend a few days before prom, and use being gay as some sort of excuse. So in order for him to think it's okay to rub it in during prom? That's another level of stupidity.

"He's a jerk, and you could do much better than someone like him" I say to comfort her. She seems to nod along, but tears still trickle down her face.

I grab a few paper towels to help her out. And although it dries up her face, it does not help her mascara stay in place. "What you've got to do, is prove that you can have a good time at prom without him," I suggest. This catches her attention.

"What do you mean?" Camila asks in a muffled voice.

"I mean, he was so convinced that you'd be miserable without him, but I know you better. You're a strong independent woman who doesn't need to dance with any man who doesn't respect you," I tell her confidently. 

I know the situation is messier then that because Justin was probably confused and nervous about coming out. But it doesn't really matter to me as I give Camila a pep talk. She needs to think he's a monster, to get angry, in order to move on. And it sees to work, because as soon as I'm done saying it she seems to brighten slightly.

"Thanks Edith," Camila whispers while fixing up her mascara. Then she seems to notice the stain on my dress, and realizes what I was doing in the bathroom in the first place. "Oh, I can help with that ice cream stain."

A few minutes later and we are leaving the bathroom, flawless makeup and stainless dresses. I suggest that we spend some time together before I meet back up with Jonah, but Camila insists that she'll be alright. We split up back on the dance floor, and I go to look for Jonah.

It doesn't take too long to find him. He's still where I left from, near the corner of the dance floor. And although I had explicitly told him not to wait around for me, he doesn't seem to be dancing with the music at all. Instead, I follow his line of sight to find he's staring at Cynthia, who's sitting at a nearby table with some friends. I immediately feel a sense of guilt, being part of the reason that Jonah never asked her out. But I remind myself that he wouldn't have had the guts, and it makes me feel marginally better.

"Hey," I shout over the loud music in order to get Jonah's attention. He smiles politely when he sees me, and then shifts his gaze to the bottom of my dress. 

"Is it okay?" he yells, but I can barely hear it over the blaring music. I nod my head in response, and that seems to settle the issue. 

Then, just when I've become uncomfortable alone with Jonah on the dance floor, I spot some mutual friends nearby. Not wanting to shout over the music again and potentially lose my voice, I get Jonah's attention by pointing toward them. He seems to catch on, and we both squeeze past other students to join the group.

In the bigger group, it's much easier to party without thinking about how embarrassing I might look. We mostly just jump and sing, so it's not really dancing, but still feels like fun. And with the lights dimmed, I don't even know who the people around me are. But it's not like I really care either. I thrive in the anonymity and chaos. It's freeing, and although I am soon out of breath and my feet ache, I have no regrets.