Helena had no true reason to buy tickets to prom. She had no date, and all of her friends had a date so it’s not like she could even go out with them, and yet, she laid in bed the morning of, both thrilled and terrified. She looked around her bedroom, she had cleaned it last night for the first time in five months. The clothes once strewn around, now on wire hangers; her vanity once piled with eyeshadow palettes unused, now organized. It was unusual for her to take care of her cleanliness. To Helena, if no one could see it, why did it matter if her room was a mess. She used this motto for more than just the small space within her home.
Helena always had the biggest of worries in her heart, about college, about how others thought of her, about how others never thought of her, so much that she refused to express through words. She felt she had no need to, and if something was truly consuming her mind, her journal she had been using for three years served the purpose of hearing her darkest thoughts.
Today was going to be different though, the last month of high school was supposed to mean everything. The last month is what was aestheticized in all of the films she watched in her room when she was twelve, by herself, with a large slurpee. All of her favorite films had girls in the prettiest of dresses, going with Heath Ledger or whoever was popular at the time, and yet, she had none of that. It felt disappointing to her, but she had to remind herself that she is not a film star. Helena Johnson was not Kat Stratford, Helena Johnson wasn’t even Josie Geller. Helena Johnson was Helena Johnson, and perhaps today was the day to accept that.
Helena finally tossed her blanket at twelve PM. She walked downstairs to her mother, who was tutoring her sister on multiplication. She watched over them for a bit, before her mother finally acknowledged her. “Good morning prom queen”, her mother erasing a mistake Helena’s little sister, Destiny, had made. “You wish”, Helena smiled, walking over to the kitchen, grabbing her favorite cat mug, pouring a cup of cold coffee, using what was left of the creamer in the refrigerator.
Helena drank her coffee, listening to the troubles of her sister and mother trying to work on something that seemed so mundane to Helena, but then again, her sister was eight years old and had a boyfriend before her, so maybe Destiny could make fun of her social skills like Helena did her education. After the cat mug was emptied, Helena walked up to her bathroom, taking out the box of hair rollers she hadn’t used since she first experimented with her hair a few months ago.
Helena wasn’t quite fond of rollers, and yet she knew they would give the perfect wave for her pin straight hair. Today was prom, and she refused to look like she always did: mundane. The word crossed Helena’s mind constantly. Helena was mundane. She didn’t dress cute like the girls she admired at her school. It was the thing she hated most about herself: her refusal to sacrifice comfort for what made her truly happy. Currently, there was no alternate universe where Helena even dared to wake up before 8:00AM to prepare an outfit, makeup, hair, all that jazz, today she had to though. If there was any day she had to, it was today. Helena put on the largest roller to the crown of her head, going one by one until her head was covered in colorful cylinders. It was 2 PM at this point, she needed to get going at five if she wanted to get herself dinner. Helena walked into her room, to her record player, picking up her favorite record, Aja by Steely Dan, as the sweetest of smiles shone upon her face hearing the bass to Black Cow.
If she had no date to prom, then maybe it was okay to embrace that. Helena was more than the prop of a boy she would leave when she pursued college in just four months. Helena was going across the country to Boston. It was perfect for her, it had been her dream for years now. Helena did not need a boy to compliment her to feel good about herself. Helena Johnson only needed Helena Johnson.
Helena sat at the stool on her vanity, pulling up a reference photo for her makeup. She had picked out an icy blue eyeshadow, juxtaposing the rosiness of her cheeks and lips. The eyeshadow matched perfectly with her prom dress, a sky blue dress with the prettiest bubble sleeves you had ever seen. She applied the makeup in such glee, for Steely Dan was caressing her ears, as she realized that was all she needed.
She did not need the fake words of real humans, for Donald Fagen was singing Deacon Blues, and it made Helena smile more than the words of any friend she had ever made. After an hour, Helena had finished her makeup. She hadn’t felt more beautiful in her life, never felt more authentic. Helena Johnson was a stunner in blue eyeshadow, it just took her eighteen years to realize it.
Helena took out her rollers, her hair just a bit frizzy from the way they were placed, but she still felt beautiful. She slipped on her white heels, walking down the stairs to her mother. Her mother was in the kitchen, fixing up a dessert of sorts. She turned to see her daughter, smiling ear to ear. “You look gorgeous Helena”. Helena expected to hear it, every daughter heard that from their mother on the day of prom, yet Helena still let herself shed a tear. She had never let herself explore makeup, or dresses, or anything of that matter. Helena had spent all of high school cooped up, or at her miserable job selling greasy burgers that stained all of her shirts, yet here she was, having felt pure joy in the blue dress she had thrifted.
Helena’s mom took pictures in front of the driveway, smiling as she handed her a bouquet she kept inside the house. “Mom, I need to go,” Helena began to chuckle. Her mother smiled, putting the phone in her pocket as she examined her daughter one final time before she was off. “Promise you’ll try to have fun?” she smiled, fixing a bit of lipstick that had smeared. “A promise is a promise” Helena pushed her jokingly, fixing the lipstick herself.
“Well, I love you honey. I hope you have fun. And please put on something actually fun on the drive, yknow something you can actually dance to” her mom stated walking to the doorway. “Mom you can totally dance to Steely Dan, I mean have you not heard Peg?” Helena yelled, opening her car door. “I’ve heard it too much.” she laughed. Helena laughed back, nodding as she finally entered her car. She plugged in her phone, immediately pulling up Deacon Blues by Steely Dan. Helena Johnson was going to go to prom, and she was going to be the Deacon Blue in a sea of Crimson Tides, and that was what made Helena, Helena.