I was homeschooled through junior high and high school. It’s not something my parents had ever really planned on doing. It was just that the schools available to me were scary and filled with drugs and hookers. Ok, maybe not hookers, but definitely drugs.
Normally, I was fine with this. I still went to dance every week, I got to do way more shows than my peers who were stuck in class eight hours a day, and I received a much better education than I would have with drug sniffing dogs in the halls. The only time it really bothered me was when it came time for prom. I mean, yeah, I wear really fancy dresses for shows all the time, but there was just something about the concept of prom that was too alluring to let it pass me by.
The problem was finding someone who went to a normal school to invite me. As a girl in theatre, I spent lots of time with gay boys, who, while excellent people, were not the ideal prom date. So, I needed to find a straight boy who looked lonely enough to not have a girlfriend, dorky enough to not be a douche bag, cute enough to look good in pictures, and nice enough my parents would say I could go. Not a lot to ask at all. I was in a play at the time, so more gays, but there was poor little dude in the back of the theatre running tech who seemed like he might just fit the bill.
He had the build and social demeanor of a boy scout, and since I was also in need of boy scouts so I could go to the West Point Camporee (yes it is a thing, and I’ll tell you all about it sometime), I planned a double whammy. When my father came to pick me up after rehearsal, I made him wait with me until the poor, unsuspecting boy was sitting alone outside. I then started a conversation about how we needed more scouts for the big camporees, and as I walked by the boy, I loudly said, “it’s not like he’s a boy scout.”
And the poor guy answered, “I am.” So I had hooked him and two other boys from his troop for the camporee in one night. But I still wanted the big prize: Prom. At the next rehearsal as we were trying on our costumes to see how they worked under the lights (I don’t really know why. It was community theatre.), I mentioned that I loved wearing pretty things. I even had a prom dress that my mother had bought for me. There had been a previous plan for me to go to a formal, but it had gotten nixed, and I would love to wear it, but I wouldn’t have the chance.
Later, the boy asked me if I really had a prom dress just sitting in my closet, and I said yes, but it was all right if I didn’t get to wear it. It was only a dress after all. *Sigh* The next week, I got the prom invite. Call me a plotting schemer, but hey, it got the job done.