Saturday was THAT night for Sophia, on her way into the annals of history with the first Homecoming Dance of her high school career. Oh come on, you remember it. That first awkward dance you attended with that super geeky/crushy/amazing/heart-throb/never-spoke-a-word-all-night Freshman classmate? Yep, that one.
Whether you loved it, or hated it, or skipped it altogether, Homecoming was the first official dance of the school year. It meant dizzying glimpses of impending adulthood, raging hormones, and all the power and intrigue of what’s to come mixed with the terror of being in over your head. Girls teetered on tippy-tippy-high-high heels, assuming a womanly air of self-confidence crossed with the giggles of a little girl. Boys tried hard to seem cool, act cool, BE cool- all the while desperate to catch the attention of the girls without looking like it, playing air drums to the beat of The Eagles’ Hotel California.
Ah yes, those awkward freshman years – I remember them well.
I was so intimidated by the senior men and women surrounding me in freshman year, and felt so very young in comparison. The senior men were enormous, and had facial hair – they really were men. The senior women were all-knowing, past the giggly stage and on to more heady subjects beyond my understanding. Sometimes they stood at their lockers, paired up and making out like it was the last day on earth. I’m sure I gawked from afar, in open envy of their maturity and coolness. Add to that scene my budding gayness, and I was just a mess.
But Sophia? Nuh uh. That girl has more self-confidence in her perfectly manicured pinky nail than I had in all four years of high school. As we dropped them off at dinner, she and her boyfriend (yes, she has a boyfriend but that’s fodder for another tale) just got out of the car and walked right on into the restaurant like they owned the place. If Sophia was intimidated, she sure as hell has perfected her “I could care less” face, because you would have never known it.



As we pulled away from the curb, I envisioned the scene she would encounter inside the high school gym when they arrived at the dance. Girls teetered on too-high heels, standing in small circles of giggling energy, while boys stood off to the side, playing air drums and trying to look extra cool. Sound familiar?
When she got home and told us about the evening, seems like that’s pretty much how it played out. I guess things haven’t changed that drastically after all. Except I’m sure they were grooving to Drake and Rhianna instead of The Eagles and E.L.O. But hey, I’ll take my throw-back music and memories any day.
Now just wait for Prom.