This is a short story I wrote for my final book project for writing class. The common theme of the stories in the book was that what is perceived or wanted is not always what happens in reality.

This has already been turned in as an assignment, but any feedback on how to improve my writing would be greatly appreciated. ^_^

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Warning: Minor Language

Magical Night

She watched the couples on the dance floor. In her mind when she thought of this night, she had envisioned a scene straight from a romantic movie, with lovers twisting and turning in intricate ballroom dance, all of the couples staring straight into the eyes of their partners with undying love. She was a hopeless romantic, and the scene she replayed over and over again in her head was her hopeless fantasy.

In reality, prom was nothing like the magical night that she'd dreamed of, back when she could still believe that somehow the Easter Bunny and wishing on shooting stars were real.

In reality, prom was over half of the grade crammed onto a dance floor made to fit only two-thirds the number of squeezed occupants, everyone grinding and jumping around to the finest techno-hip-hop music available, while the other half of the people in attendance just sat around talking s**t about each other or playing video games.

She sighed, watching the crowd continue to push and shove under the rainbow spectrum of LED lights rotating around the room. She'd been part of that crowd for a while, dancing with her friends. She'd been having fun, just the four of them, until one by one each of their dates had returned to whisk each of them off their feet to another part of the dance floor.

She bit her lip and sighed, looking down at her fancy blue dress and manicured nails. She hadn't gotten a date. No one had asked her. No one had asked her friends about her. No one had even expected that she would go.

She smiled a bitter smile and stood, moving away from the dance floor, back towards the refreshments. So much for her plan of "not subjecting herself to conform to society's standards and proving that in modern day a young woman does not need to rely on a man to escort her", or so she'd told her friends once she realized she wouldn't be able to get a date. A.K.A., the "try-to-make-yourself-have-a-good-time-even-though-he-didn't-ask-you" plan.

Actually, that plan had been going rather well until she'd reminded herself of the reason for it. With another frustrated sigh she picked up the punch ladle and poured the red, liquefied sugar into a cup.

"Back so soon?"

She turned and made eye contact with one of her friends. He was smirking at her and pouring himself a cup, careful not to get any spilled on his handsome tuxedo.

"Yeah. Everyone's off with their dates." She took a sip from her cup.

Yup. Liquid sugar. At least no one had spiked it this year.

He quickly gulped down most his own before refilling the top of his glass. "Aw, they just left you?" he teased her, though she could still hear the underlying tone of genuine concern.

She shrugged. "No biggie. I shouldn't be hogging them from their dates anyway."

She walked with him as he headed back to the table where his other friends were sitting. All of them but one had made a pact to come to prom together stag, resulting in the six boys and one slightly bored looking girl sitting on the table.

"Hey," one of his guy friends greeted as they approached. Most of the boys were standing up to leave. "Apparently they've got Smash Bros. You guys in?" She smiled, happy that she was being invited, and nodded.

She looked to him, his usual devious smile plastered across his face. "You know it! I'm definitely gonna kick your asses!"

"Oh please, you're s**t at this game."

"Screw you."

"Now boys, watch your language," the girl still sitting had said, rolling her mascara-lined eyes for emphasis.

"Yes, mom!" his friend said, heavily emphasizing the second word. He and the others broke out laughing at their group's running gag, and she did too. She watched him as he ran one hand casually through his hair, an action he normally did when he was anxious.

"Let's go already before the line's ridiculously long."

"Yeah."

"Agreed."

"I call Samus!"

"I call Pikachu!"

"Oh, no way dude…"

The group made their way over to where the TVs and video gaming platforms had been set up, passing by the dance floor as they did so. She saw one of her girl friends from earlier, happily dancing, if you could call grinding dancing, with her boyfriend on the edge of the dance floor.

Her friend made eye contact, and she waved back, trying to mimic the huge grin the other girl dancing with her date currently had. In response, her friend pointed to the oblivious boy talking about Brawl, walking in front of her. Her friend raised her eyebrows suggestively and gave a thumbs up.

Her response to her friend was to stick out her tongue and silently thank god that everyone else in their little video-gamer group was too absorbed fighting over whether Pikachu or Kirby was a better selection to notice the exchange between the two girls.

The boys immediately plopped themselves down at the controls as soon as the game was free, and she sat next to him on the right end of the couch, her eyes faced towards the screen to watch like everyone else.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as they played. He was so focused and completely set on winning. It was just something small, but she saw those qualities as admirable, whether it was directed towards getting the highest score in Brawl or the highest average in math class. The way he laughed with her and talked to her with such ease, just thinking about it would always be enough to put a smile on her face.

Sure, it wasn't the magical, romantic evening that she had dreamt of, but if she could at least spend the time with him as friends having fun, nothing else that night mattered. It didn't matter that she had an economics essay she hadn't started on due first thing Monday morning, or that she actually really sucked at Super Smash Bros Brawl and would be playfully teased for it later. It didn't matter that her girl friends were all off dancing with their dates. It didn't matter that she didn't have a date.

It didn't matter no one had asked her.

It didn't matter that he hadn't asked her.

In her dreams, the hopeless romantic residing in her mind had wanted this to be a night of beauty and wonder and magic, where secrets would finally be revealed and true love would triumph in the end, just like the perfect ending to every other romantic-comedy. In her dreams, his clueless disposition regarding her true feelings would finally disappear, and he would see her the way she had seen him for the past two years, and he would be courageous enough to tell her the words she longed to hear.

But in reality, that never happened.

In reality, they sat crammed together on a couch with three other guys, playing games on the Wii for an hour and a half.

And, she thought, that was okay.

All that mattered that night was that she was with him, and they were having fun together, date or no date.

And that would always be enough to make her smile and look back on this moment in time as a magical night.