![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeVLP2q297s58o-hgWNoXghXCWnP2ZgYU3eYep8Q241g_F13-5YukXe25yFHlhksJ9IxDpaQ_RCGgsO3M1rXjuZU1_B9LY1RLubvqpZ-kU1nQ8Y2OuEhsewCnlqvtmWM84AlUpOflC170/w640-h322/gradesketchfin_by_thatfreakgivz-dcj10pf__.jpg)
A young boy becomes a man, in more ways than one, on the night he asks to dance with the girl of his dreams.
It's the last day before the school dance and I have never been so nervous. Tomorrow I am going to have to do it - I will ask out Olivia. I've talked to her a few times before, and we have a few things in common, such as our perfect attendance records. Only thing is, she's been my crush for years and I still haven't told her.
I know this dance shouldn't be such a big deal, but it doesn't help that they're calling it the '6th Grade Prom.' I'm not old enough to go to prom yet! But every grade has to have its own prom now. There are so many that the school is running out of Fridays to put them on, and ours had to be moved to a Thursday.
There is nothing else I can think about on Wednesday night, and so I lay awake worrying about prom for hours. Eventually I think I do manage to fall asleep, but either way, it doesn't matter. I am at the dance now and I still haven't asked her out yet.
In fact, I don't have a date for the dance at all, though a qnuick glance around the room tells me I'm not the only one. A lot of other 6th-graders didn't arrive with dates, including some of the girls. The dance hasn't started yet, and people are still arriving, so there is still time.
It is only then that Olivia walks in, and she doesn't have a date either. This could be my chance!
She looks really pretty though. I think she is wearing makeup. Her brown hair is pulled back into a Dutch braid. And she is wearing a beautiful turquoise dress. I want to go over and talk to her, but her good looks are making me nervous. What if I mess this up? What if I'm not good enough for her?
Just then I catch sight of my reflection in the window, and I look pretty sharp in my tuxedo. I am dressed to impress with a matching bowtie and waistcoat. And my hair is combed back into a dapper style. I'm even wearing some shiny dress shoes in place of my usual sneakers.
I tell myself: You got this.
Before I can sidle up to her with confidence and offer her my hand though, I am interrupted by the principal speaking with the microphone.
"Now that we're all here, I'd like to have a little speech before we begin the first dance."
Damn. I was too late. I was so close as well, but I failed. If only she'd arrived a few minutes earlier, maybe there would have been time. Then again, can I really blame her for this? Why couldn't I have worked up the courage to ask her at recess today? If I hadn't left it until the evening of the dance itself, things might have turned out differently. But oh well, I'll try again next year, perhaps when I've grown up some more.
In desperation, I try and yell from across the room: "Doyouwannahavethisdancewithme?" but it comes out no louder than a whisper. The principal looks derisively in my direction before beginning his speech.
"It is my pleasure to welcome you to your prom night. This evening is a celebration of you. In the time you've been at this school, you have already grown up so much. It's hard to believe it has only been a year since you first joined us in junior high. And as you all know, the time you spend in school will prepare you for adulthood. But of course, the ones who have grown most of all are those who have attended throughout the entire school year. So, as per tradition, we begin the first dance with the girl and boy who have the most consecutive days of attendance. So without further ado, let us give it up for our prom queen and king - Olivia and..."
I don't believe it. He's actually saying my name.
The next 10 seconds pass by in a blur as half the room looks in my direction and applauds me. A spotlight shines in my eyes as me and Olivia make our way to the center of the dance floor.
And now I get to dance with her!
She is about the same height as me, so when the dance begins we are looking at each other directly in the eyes with our gazes level. Before the music starts, I lean in closer and whisper:
"I'm so nervous. Are you?"
She just smiles and says:
"What's there to be nervous about?"
The spotlight shines on her hair, making it look like she's glowing. And then the music begins. I don't know why but I was expecting a rock song or some dancy K-pop tune. Instead, I hear the slow acoustic guitar intro of a love song."Well, I've kind of had this crush on you for years."
I say it like it's no big deal, as though it's a very common occurrence for a boy to have a crush on her. But inside I can feel my heart thumping and telling me to panic with every word I say.
"That's great!" she says, a little more loudly than before. I am sure it's not just me who hears it. "I always thought you were really cool."
She didn't call me cute! She actually thinks I'm cool.
The first lyrics of the song begin to play. A male singer's voice begins with the words I thought I could never say:
- Do you wanna dance, under the moonlight -
Olivia sways back and forth to the music and rests her hands on my shoulders. I'm not sure where to put mine, so I wrap my arms gently around her waist. It seems like the right thing to do. And I sway in time with her.
Like a gentleman, I make sure my hands are not too low and not too high.
As our slow dance continues through the first verse, I stop thinking about whoever is watching us, and lose myself in the slow hypnotic beat of the song. We may as well be the only two people here.
- Do you wanna dance, and hold my hand -
- Tell me, I'm your lover man -
By the time I hear the second verse, my nerves are gone and I can enjoy it. Everything about this moment feels right to me. My heart is still pounding, but no longer out of the nervousness I once felt. What I'm feeling now is a sense of bliss I have never felt before.
When the next verse begins, the female backing singers join in like they are a choir of angels cheering us on, and ending it with the line:
- Oh-ohhh! Baby do you wanna dance -
Yes - this is what I want! This is everything I want.
When the chorus begins, I step back and lead her through the movements like a man who is sure of what he's doing, and not at all like the nervous boy who began this dance.
As her hair flits in and out of the spotlight, I can see her face changing shape. It looks a lot less childish than before. I don't think it could be the lighting or the makeup that is doing this. Could it be that she is growing older?
I just go along with what is happening and don't question it, even as she slides her hand down my arm and I see that her fingers are longer and more slender than they were before. Not only that but they are adorned with nail polish, a beautiful shade that matches her dress that I'm sure wasn't there before.
The dress is cut in such a way that would show cleavage on an adult woman, but Olivia doesn't have any breasts yet. As she continues to dance however, her entire upper torso begins to swell and her chest grows a little with every one of her slow breaths. Her body language is different too. She carries herself with a more deliberate elegance, and less like a little girl. It is not long before I realize I am dancing with a woman.
She has grown taller as well, though I didn't notice it at first because we are practically the same height as each other. I just now realize it is because something is happening to me too, most likely the same as what's happening to her. My legs are getting longer, and bristle with the addition of new hair. Is this what growing up feels like? I hope so.
I continue the dance without interruption, even as these sensations spread all over my body and hair continues to grow in new places. Not only that, but my waist is getting wider. Fortunately my shirt and pants have grown several sizes so they remain a perfect fit. And while my chest has yet to catch up with it, I can feel it getting bigger and broader with every passing breath.
Between my legs, I feel my package quietly trembling as it grows. The boxer shorts I put on this morning stretch to accommodate it, but it still feels tight. I remind myself this is a normal and healthy part of growing up, and nothing to feel ashamed of.
The soft dumpling body I had as a boy is gone for good as my limbs lengthen and muscles continue to grow in. With tight abdominals and broad shoulders, I have become the man I always wanted to be.
Only one thing is missing though. I pray that it is coming any second now, and sure enough, it does! The prickling sensation moves to my face, and... Yes! I almost weep with joy as my first mustache begins to grow. To my delight, I don't just get the downy fluff that appears on the face of 12-year-olds, but coarse, bristly hairs appearing all over my face. I soon see myself, reflected in her eyes, with stubble on my cheeks and chin, and an alluringly square jaw.
Olivia is around 6 feet tall when she stops growing, part of which is because her flat ballroom shoes have turned into heels. But even with the heels on, I am still a few inches taller. No longer being the same height means I will have to lean down to kiss her, which is exactly what I am going to do.
The song begins to fade out a lot sooner than I expected. I didn't realize it was such a short song, but I figure now would be the time to do it. And I really, really want to kiss her! It's just that I'm nervous once again because I've never kissed anyone before in my life before, even though it's very clear she wants it too. She puts her hands on the lapels of my jacket and purses her lips in that mouth-half-open kind of way. C'mon, you chicken! I tell myself, knowing I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't. I lean my head left while she goes right, wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. Our lips touch and every one of my senses is ignited. I am sure she can feel my heartbeat through the air and several layers of clothing between us.
As I pull back from the kiss I swiftly plant another on her lips. She pulls back more slowly and raises a hand to stroke the stubble on my cheek. I look her in the eyes again and I no longer see myself reflected in them. Instead, I see the eyes of a woman come alive with passion.
At this moment, two crowns appear on both of our heads, completing the transformation. Each one is studded with plastic gemstones that sparkle when they catch the light. We are the homecoming queen and king, and every kid around us cheers and applauds.
I imagine they'll let us skip 7th grade - maybe 8th, 9th and 10th grades as well.
It is only now that I realize they are little kids. In fact, I struggle to believe we were ever the same age as them.
The next song starts and, predictably enough for a school dance, it is a fast dance track. Olivia and I dance along to that one as well, but we are only staying out of a sense of obligation. I can tell she feels as out of place here as I do.
During the second repeat of the chorus, she leans in very close to me and whispers:
"Let's get out of here."
I nod.
We take the end of that song as our cue to leave.
It is clear that we both needed some time alone with each other. This evening has changed us a lot and we are both meeting one another as though for the first time.
As we make our way toward the door, I approach the principal and shake his hand. Olivia gives him a polite double kiss on the cheek, then she turns to me with a smile and leans her head upon my shoulder.
All at once, I know what to do.
I bend down and run a hand through the folds of her dress, stopping somewhere just above the knees. I use my other arm to support her back and, in a single confident movement, I sweep her off her feet.
I carry her the rest of the way to the open door and that which may lie beyond...
-
When I wake up, it is Thursday morning. And though I am still on an adrenaline high from the events of prom night, it appears I have only dreamed it.
I run a hand along my arm and find it devoid of hair. I open my eyes to see the tuxedo hanging up uncreased by my dresser.
I am still a kid, but it feels like I've grown on the inside. I loved everything about the person who I turned into. And I'm sure no part of that fantasy is out of reach. Just... being him, and being with Olivia... It felt so right that I decide, before I'm fully awake, that today will be my first true steps of the path I take to becoming that man. And I will begin by asking Olivia to Prom.
My grown-up ego only takes a slight hit when I find out I peed myself during the night. Only a little bit came out though, and it doesn't smell like regular pee, so I can probably just throw it in the regular laundry and it will be fine.
As I slip into my school clothes and brush my hair, I think perhaps I am carrying myself differently, and hopefully a little more like an adult. I can't describe it, but it's almost like how Olivia's body language changed in the dream as she got older.
It still sucks that I have an undeveloped body though. I look myself in the mirror and find myself wishing I was taller, or that I had a manlier face. I think I would just die of embarrassment if Olivia calls me cute - now there's a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one.
Just when I am thinking my puberty will never come, I notice something about my body I've never seen before. I stop brushing, lean in and to take a closer look to confirm with bated breath that... Yes! There is indeed a single coarse hair on my upper lip. It's almost long enough to wind around my finger!
The beard and mustache I dreamed about growing are beginning to grow, and I couldn't be happier! I know it'll be several years before they are as thick and bushy as they were in the dream. But hey, it's a start.
I wake up my dad to tell him the good news and say that I can't wait to show it to Olivia. But he tells me a single whisker is not attractive, and she won't think so either. So I'm afraid I have to agree. It is with some regret that, minutes later, I am standing in the bathroom, holding in one hand the razor he taught me how to use.
Even though I like it, most girls won't, and that includes Olivia. So the whisker has to go. But I take some comfort in knowing that this brave hair will have sacrificed itself for something - nay, someone - much greater.
"For Olivia," I say.
Originally uploaded to DeviantArt on July 2, 2018. Its description there was as follows:
Perhaps a more personal story than I have ever written before. It is also my first time writing one of these in first person. Let me know if you think it works!
I kinda like that this ended up following the Hero's Journey, more or less to a tee - the refusal of the call, the mentor, the transformation, and the return. All here in the right order!
The song, if you want it, is here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEUCoPkECQ4
Images by ThatFreakGivz (https://www.deviantart.com/thatfreakgivz)
Comments
Post a Comment