It began with awakening.

  I mean that literally.  At 2:00 in the morning, an alarm went off blaring.  You must understand, I HATE the sound of alarm clocks, so I desperately/groggily searched for the source of the miserable sound till I found it, turned it off, and could collapse back in bed.  Despite the fact that I knew Bryan would be asking me any day now because 1) he's my boyfriend and 2) my mom forced us to clean the whole house... somehow it didn't occur to look right next to the alarm clock I had never seen before to find a piece of paper saying, "Sorry to alarm you, but will you go to Homecoming with me?"  Instead I asked my siblings in annoyance which one of them thought it would be funny to prank me.
  The first time we ever held hands was while watching Insidious, and since we just saw part II the day before, I figured what the heck and decided to disturb his slumber as well.  It was probably funnier in my head than it actually was, but I set the song Tiptoe Through the Tulips {a super duper creepy song from a super super creepy part of the movie} to go off under his bed at 2 AM.  His dad put it on top of a Frisbee so the sound went out to the whole room and he couldn't figure out where it was. "It would be scary if I said no."  OK, kinda stretching it, but it was yes.
    I love going to dances because of the anticipation, the creativity, the countless hours you spend on dates with friends, the hunt for dresses {marked down to $14.99 at the Dillard's Outlets!} and jewelry and shoes {despite the wonders of being 5'6" getting a glimpse into the normal world's POV, I hate heels} and makeup/hair styles. 
  At five o'clock the Friday before, the boys picked us up for bowling.  After the last time when I miserably failed and became notoriously known as the laughing stock, I was actually surprised that I didn't do too bad this time.  People still made fun of me for my own methods of throwing the ball, but I tsk-tsked them when Bryan tried my way for the heck it and got a strike, I believe.   Everyone in the group named each other and Bryan became Mr. McMockery and I became Psqueeter because that sounds like "a name for someone small."
  After a round of bowling, we headed out to get dinner at Subway where Rachel videoed people in slow motion without telling us and Bryan and I jiggled ice in each others' faces. Then, wearing white for the whiteout, we headed to the homecoming game.  The stands were so packed that we had to park in one of the neighborhoods and walk. I wish I could say the Hawks soared in glorious victory... but we lost by a touchdown.  Oh well.  Then we went to Hunter's house where we chilled by the fire with punch and candy and joked about what I'd be like drunk.  {Where that came from I have no idea, ask Chandler.} 

  On Saturday, we all flocked at Chandler's house and made crepes.  Oh how lovely it was to see the gender swap-- boys in the kitchen cooking, girls sprawled out comfortably.  Even if {or rather, especially because} Chelsea failed at comebacks, we laughed hard {I don't remember what they were talking about but Karisa said something like "Chelsea, that's a man's job." And Chelsea's like "Well, well you're a man's j--"  The look of horror as she tried to put her foot her mouth was hilarious.}  

  For the next part of the day date we headed out to the desert for some Frisbee golf.  You'd think that it would be cooler in November than it was, but I guess I forgot to think logically about how this is Arizona {for cryin' out loud} before I put on jeans.  Poor Bryan was on my team, which meant he was on the loser's team.  But if it has to do with trying to throw something with the the wind, that's just how I roll!
  After some icecream, we headed home to get ready.  Now we were gettin' down to it!  I rushed around like crazy trying to make sure I looked perfect.   Before I could even take pictures with the group, my mom dragged me to Jacki's house to snap a few, and it turns out that wasn't a bad idea.  I'm posting this many pictures of myself just because I'm so in love with the dramatic backdrops!

  Our dates picked us back up in the evening.  I'll admit Bryan looked pretty classy rolling up the driveway in black, and I couldn't stop smiling when we drove away towards his house.  His mama took the pictures {how I adore her!} and then we ate a delicious stake dinner the boys worked so hard to prepare.  
  We were happy.  Bryan ever-so-characteristically sat down at the grand piano and serenaded me, his fingers flying, the beautiful melodies melting into the warm atmosphere.  I sat down on the bench next to him and fell even harder, if that's possible.  

The time of the dance came.  Hawk Hall was decked out with marine decor for the theme Come Sail Away, and music blasted loudly, the beat pulsing in the dark hot air.  We pumped our fists and grooved and messed around, pretending to be sexy as we danced to deep-based songs, and when the DJ told us we weren't "allowed to jump," we jumped higher.  Sweat beaded and heart rates spiked and feet screamed in rebellion against the combo of heels and dancing.  But we had a blast.  And when the slow songs soothed the environment, Bryan and I danced together.  Okay, we had some fun with it, mouthing the words to the sappy songs and making dramatic facial expressions and body movements mockingly.  But that didn't mean there wasn't that beautiful gazing into each others' eyes, or a kiss.  After all, it was homecoming.
 After the dance, we headed for one last trip to Village Inn.  For some reason, dear B-Ry was under the impression that it was a little restaurant inside of an actual hotel, so he pulled into the parking lot of an Inn before we could explain otherwise.  After we got pie, unfortunately, city curfew was city curfew.  The date was over and we had to go home.
  I seriously loved homecoming this year.  I hope that next year will provide us with just as many cherished memories.