In my high school, the junior class was traditionally responsible for putting on the Prom. I was, of course, on the Prom committee and we chose the theme, An Evening in Paris. It should be noted that none of us had actually been to Paris, but the pictures in our minds looked lovely, so we went with it.
My date that year was a guy from a rival high school who I'd been crushing on for quite some time. He was nice and polite and my parents liked his parents, and it turned out that he in no way, shape, or form was crushing on me. He was a good dancer though, and I wasn't bad on the dance floor myself, so we really did have a great time.
Prom my senior year was a different story. With two weeks before the big event, I had no date an there were no underground rumors of a shy guy still building up the courage to ask me. I was a bit disappointed that I wouldn't be going, especially when my friends spoke about new dresses and fancy dinner plans. My girlfriends encouraged me to go by myself or with other single ladies. This was no big deal at my school, but most certainly not encouraged by my parents and not something I would be allowed to do had I wanted to.
Right after convincing myself a girl only needed to go to Prom once in her life, a guy friend who I'd known for years asked me. He actually had wanted to ask my little sister, but she wasn't old enough to go to Prom yet (my parent's rules, not the school's), so I guess he figured the older sister wasn't a bad second place.
Here's the thing though, for as sad and sorry as that story is, Prom senior year really was a lot of fun. It was less about does-he-or-doesn't-he-like-me and was more about spending time with my friends before we graduated and headed off in different directions. We were mere weeks away from graduation and even though we lived in a small town, we knew we'd rarely, if ever, all be in the same place again.