About a week before the most anticipated dance of high school, my nose and ears, super stuffy and with a strange pressure, cheerfully greeted my now miserable self. At the time, I dismissed it as sleeping on my back too much the previous night. I went throughout the day and tried to ignore the stuffiness and stiffness in my neck.

The next morning, with five days before prom, it had gotten worse.

I felt awful. No matter how much I blew my nose, the legions of mucus still remained. I was filled with darkened, weighty dread whenever I thought about cancelling on my date. However, I decided not to. If I didn’t go, then she wouldn’t have a date to go with, and it would be my fault. I decided then and there that I would go, no matter how bad the head cold became. I would just inhale the right amount of medicine with a soothing glass of water, then keep on keepin’ on. I did as my father usually says: “Suck it up, Buttercup”.

Prom was… different than I had expected. Usually, when you see prom in movies or on tv shows, the venue is in the students’ high school gymnasium. You also see that the day’s weather had been sunny all of that day, which is the standard when it comes to the overly perfect land of entertainment. Luckily for me, and the other students at my school, the venue was a very luxurious country club.  As we walked in, the main hall greeted us and aegis from the rain was given to all who entered. The very amazing sound system also tried to “play hostess”, but ended up being unnecessarily loud and obnoxious, making my headache worse. Unluckily for me, and the other students at my school, the forecast called for rain all that afternoon. I was able to get my date and I over to the venue relatively on time, and relatively dry, considering that the rain at that point felt like giant tidal waves shoulder checking the ground.

Dinner was included in the cost of the tickets, and the crowd favorite was chicken parmesan. My head cold was ever-present, and the warm, savory chicken parmesan I had been waiting for to help me get warm after the cold rain was disappointing. The dinner, dull, bland, and lukewarm, felt rough and stringy on my sore, weakened, and damaged throat. I didn’t eat much, because whatever I ate felt as if someone had snuck razor blades into my food when I wasn’t looking. One of the better things at prom was the dessert bar. The ice cream was the equivalent of a fire truck coming and relieving the burning pain in my throat, Zantac fireman style.

Of course, the date I had brought was extremely patient and nice when it came to the frequent trips to blow my nose, and to help keep myself from passing out at the table we had eaten dinner at. No matter how rough it was for myself or for her, she never complained. She helped me whenever and wherever she could, though she knew no one else there besides myself. As the hours dragged on, she would occasionally ask me if I was feeling okay. I would answer with a positive response, and we would keep going together. To try to say thank you to her amazing help she had offered me, I made sure to slow dance with her, and to keep dancing with her for a while. I unfortunately slipped up when I accidentally fell asleep in one of the chairs in the hallway of the venue. I most definitely blame the medicine I had taken, and not the fact that I had accidentally taken the nighttime version of the medicine, which makes people sleepy.

Eventually, prom was over. We were given party favors, then allowed to leave. When I asked her about the night as I drove us home, my date loved it. Even though I was sick, she said she had a good time. However, she also said this:

You owe me because you were sick, you know. What do you owe me? Prom again next year. It will be even more fun next year when you aren’t super sick.”