Эллен Шрайбер - Dance With A Vampire

We folded our ballots and as the treasurer walked back up the row we stuck them in a homemade aluminum-foil-covered box resembling something children make in elementary school.

"We each got one vote," I said proudly. "Now we just need three hundred ninety-nine more!"

My mom was so overjoyed that I'd be attending prom, she ducked out of work early, picked me up from school in her SUV, and drove me to Jack's department store.

Jack's department store was originally owned by Jack Patterson's father and was now run by Jack, a handsome crush-worthy guy five years my senior. When I was twelve, I'd snuck into the Mansion for him so he could pass an initiation for his high school buddies. He remembered me ever since and always wore a smile for me when I visited the department store.

Jack's sold everything from socks to scooters, Fiestaware to Waterford crystal, and generic wallets to Prada purses.

My mom and I entered the store, breezing past the linen department. Designer towels in every color on an artist's palette were neatly stacked on white shelves.

Focused on a fashion mission, my mom headed straight for the escalators.

"Juniors are on this floor," I instructed, pointing past Bedding.

"We're going to Juniors Boutique," she said.

I'd hardly been in the Juniors, much less Juniors Boutique. We rode the ascending escalator, peering down on shoppers perusing fine jewelry.

We reached the second floor, walked past Designer Women's Petites, and arrived at Juniors Boutique. Cashmere sweaters, designer blouses, and jeans were perfectly displayed. Anorexic mannequins flaunted size zero skirts and hundred-dollar tank tops.

About a dozen or so girls and their mothers were picking through the rows of dresses—pink, purple, violet, gray, red, green, lavender, black, some with rhinestones or lace, plunging necklines or conservative ones, sleeveless or strapless, floor-length or knee-length hems.

Each daughter was a Xerox copy of her mom. Except for our brunette hair, which my mother regularly colored, my mom and I appeared to be polar opposites.

One by one, my mother pulled dresses off the racks until she had two armfuls. One by one, I glanced over dresses and moved to another rack, empty-handed.

A seasoned sales manager, wearing a name tag that read MADGE and exuding the confidence of a sea captain effortlessly managing a vessel on the high seas, approached my mom.

"Here, let me take those," she said. This obviously wasn't her first prom season and it wasn't going to be her last. "I'll start a dressing room for you."

We followed the woman into the dressing room already flooded with prom babes strutting their gowns like they were on a Paris catwalk.

I disrobed, taking off my wide-bottom black jeans and Hello Batty T-shirt, and stepped into a pink satin number.

I stared into the full-length mirror. I didn't even recognize my own reflection.

"Let me see!" I heard my mother say.

Reluctantly, I opened the dressing-room door.

"Take off those boots!" she scolded. "This isn't a heavy metal concert."

As I untied my laces, Madge appeared and within moments she was back with pink rhinestone stilettos, size seven.

I stepped before the three-way dressing-room mirror.

I felt like a bridesmaid, but to my mother, I must have looked like the bride.

"You are beautiful!" she gushed.

Even Madge agreed. "You look like a model," she declared, and waited for my reaction.

I could see myself reflected in my mother's eyes, slowly transforming into the daughter she had always wanted.

The prom babes sized me up. A few smiled; a few giggled. I must have looked quite the sight, pretty in pink with my multiple ear piercings, temporary bat tattoos, and black lipstick and fingernail polish.

I imagined how much better I'd look if this prom dress had a few holes, black seams, or was dyed bloodred.

"Before you decide…," Madge declared briskly. She returned to the counter to replace my black rubber bracelets with rhinestone ones.

Just then Jack Patterson stepped into view.

"Raven, it's Jack," my mother said, and excitedly exited the dressing room.

As my mother greeted Jack and they continued on with their pleasantries, I raced back to my dressing-room stall and locked the door.

Then she did something only a mother would do. "Raven! Come out here," she called to me.

I had nowhere to run. I wasn't ready for anyone to see me like this, much less Jack Patterson.

I slunk out of the dressing room, through Juniors Boutique, trying to balance myself on the tiny stiletto heels.

The other girls scrutinized me as they continued to shop. My mother signaled for me to twirl around and model the dress for Jack. I awkwardly spun like an inexperienced model.

Jack smiled. "You look beautiful."

I couldn't help but feel proud, even though I felt like an ornament on top of a sweet sixteen birthday cake.

"I have more to try on…," I finally said, heading back to the dressing room.

After I tried on a dress in every color of the rainbow, the Madison mother-and-daughter Prom Dress Finding Team were growing weary.

I got dressed in my black-on-black threads.

"So which one do you like?" my mom asked, holding up a pink dress in one hand and a blue one in the other. "I think they are both wonderful."

"Uh…can we keep looking?"

I just imagined Alexander, sporting a midnight black tux, arriving at my house to find me all puffed up in pink.

"Why are you frowning?" my mother chided.

"They may be wonderful…But they're not…me."

My mother sighed. "For my senior prom, Grandma bought me what she wanted me to wear—a lavender satin dress with a white sweater and brand-new crisp white gloves."

"Gloves? But you were a hippie."

"Exactly."

"So you wore them?"

"I did until I got to the prom. Then I switched into a sundress I had hanging in my locker. Now I'm doing the same thing to you. Insisting you dress the way I'd like you to dress instead of the way that makes you comfortable."

I was impressed that my mother had such insight. "Let's give it one more try," she continued.

There was a simple black strapless dress, lined with lace, on a mannequin. I could accessorize it with an onyx choker, black studded bracelets, and spiderweb earrings.

Jennifer Warren, a varsity cheerleader, stood behind me as I studied the dress, glaring at me as if I wasn't worthy of eyeing such a beautiful gown.

"Hey, Mom," I called, catching up to her at the accessory counter. "I think I've found a dress that fits both our tastes."

I led my mother back through the maze of satiny garments.

We reached the mannequin, only to find a salesgirl unzipping the black dress and handing it to Jennifer.

"Mom," Jennifer exclaimed to a delighted woman. "It's stunning."

My heart sank. I tugged at my hair and dug my boots into the masonite tiled floor. My eyes couldn't help but well up with tears. My mother's smile strained, as if she were as heartbroken as I was.

"That's fine," I managed to say. "I don't have to go."

"What do you mean you're not going?" Jack asked from behind the sales counter.

"They just sold the perfect dress," I admitted.

"You mean you didn't like the pink one?" he asked, helping a salesgirl with the register. "It looked gorgeous."

"Well…"

"Not your taste…I understand."

Jack thought for a moment as he finished the transaction. "Why don't you come with me…"

Jack motioned us behind the sales counter and we followed him down a hallway. "A few gowns just arrived this afternoon. It's been so busy, we haven't even had the chance to put them on the floor," he whispered. He unlocked a storeroom and led us through boxes of merchandise and hanging layaways to a rack of fancy junior dresses. "Take your time. If you are interested in anything, bring it to the sales desk."