#exquisite corpse fya

[cifya]

Prom: the final frontier.

Prom: the final frontier.

This year it was actually going to happen. This year I was finally going to conquer my fear and participate in something most of my friends thought was fun. I couldn’t begin to understand how something so anxiety inducing could be fun, but then again, they didn’t have my problems, so I guess it was understandable. The thought of it actually turned my stomach, but I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t go to prom this year, I might end up dead. Literally.

The reason I’m so opposed to prom dates back many years ago in my preadolescence. For now, living in this small town for so long has really started to get to me. It feels like the world is caving in on itself, and the bubble is about to burst. Prom is only one of the ridiculous traditions that is of the highest importance here, and my group of friends, though not exactly the most popular crew, fully expected each of us to pair off and attend the social function together. Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about finding a date.

At least, that’s what I thought. My date-to-be, Cam, came down with the chicken pox three days before the dance, so he’ll be staying at home on Saturday night with oven mitts taped to his hands. (Side note: Who in the hell gets chicken pox at age seventeen??) Naturally, the town crier sent up the alarm: “HEAR YE, HEAR YE! MARIA ESPOSITO SEEKS HER PRINCE CHARMING FOR THE BALL!” At least that’s what happened in my head. In reality, the town crier was my best friend Emily posting a message on Facebook that sounded a little too much like a Craigslist Casual Encounters ad. I begged her not to click “Post,” not to destroy what dignity I had left, but as with all best friends, there was no convincing her otherwise. But to my amazement, it worked. Within minutes, I had a new prom date. If only I had known that it was Tony de Luca, son of Italian mob boss, Dominic de Luca.

@cltfya you’re up!

[fyavanwa]

I’d known that this tryout was going to be hard, but I had no idea it would be impossible. I mean, basically impossible. I’d spent all summer training, focusing on my reaction speeds just like EJ warned, only to show up and find out that everything had changed. Like, CHANGED. Overnight.

My big competition for goalkeeper, Taylor, got bit this summer, the night of the Fourth of July. She and her brothers were lighting illegal fireworks out on the basketball court, late, after everyone had gone home from the city-sponsored show, and when the cops showed up she ran blindly into the woods toward the park, and that’s where it happened. I didn’t find out until I showed up at tryouts, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have come, or I would have went out, maybe, for volleyball instead. Because if you’ve seen Teen Wolf (and who hasn’t) you know that no one can beat a werewolf on a court or a field. No one. I looked like an idiot out there.

You’re up @vancityfya

[avlfya]

Prom: the final frontier.

Prom: the final frontier.

This year it was actually going to happen. This year I was finally going to conquer my fear and participate in something most of my friends thought was fun. I couldn’t begin to understand how something so anxiety inducing could be fun, but then again, they didn’t have my problems, so I guess it was understandable. The thought of it actually turned my stomach, but I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t go to prom this year, I might end up dead. Literally.

The reason I’m so opposed to prom dates back many years ago in my preadolescence. For now, living in this small town for so long has really started to get to me. It feels like the world is caving in on itself, and the bubble is about to burst. Prom is only one of the ridiculous traditions that is of the highest importance here, and my group of friends, though not exactly the most popular crew, fully expected each of us to pair off and attend the social function together. Well, at least I didn’t have to worry about finding a date.

@cifya you're up!