After weeks of various stresses and preparations, the famous JSB (Junior Senior Banquet) has arrived.

As soon as I woke up, coming out of my room, I saw many of my co-tenants wandering around the halls with their faces green with “vitalizing” masks and their hair wrapped in towels.

The estheticians from our favorite Beauty Parlor showed up at 10 to perfect nails and hairstyles, and remove any superfluous hair from more than 60 girls.

An entire day dedicated to beauty and excessive personal hygiene. But you need a day like that every now and then, especially for a group like us, so far away from our habitual consumerism!

Myself and one Sydney ventured into the kitchen, making cookies as a present for our dates.

Time passes among polishes, brushes, and tongs.

Finally it’s time to put on the dress that that poor tailor had to work so hard on, with all the modifications I asked him to make. The result is good, although I look like something out of a Disney film.

Our knights arrived, washed and ironed. The gray-black of their various jackets and ties contrast with the flowers and chocolates they bring. I walk down the stairs, awaiting the sound of general stupor… without success.

He who was supposed to be my cavalier shows up with a twinkling earring and the Ray Bans I had chosen for him the first day we went out together, and gives his flowers and chocolates to the plump little brown girl next to me, pretending that he doesn’t even see me. (The story of our breakup is complicated.)

My substitute date arrives late, with two sad roses and no chocolate, in fact I end up eating most of the cookies I made for him.

We arrive at school, where everything is decorated in a “Midnight Ball” theme, with stars and moons everywhere. Everything glitters, at a bar the younger students serve us cocktails – completely non-alcoholic. Every few seconds a flash blinds me.

When it becomes clear that my ex is eating his heart out (having seen the results of the dress, makeup, heels, etc.), I decide to make things worse by chatting with him, complimenting him for his sunglasses, and showing him that my nails are varnished in his favorite color. In the end, there’s nothing he can do but return to his date.

The food is extraordinarily good, although I eat fearing I will explode in my TIGHT little dress or, worse, make the dress explode! But everything goes smoothly, and then we’re dancing. Fortunately, my substitute date has a good sense of rhythm and, putting together our creative abilities, we manage to have fun making up any kind of dance.

Something lights up in me and I can’t help smiling with enjoyment when I note that my ex’s substitute date makes it impossible for him to look as good, by refusing to dance with him.

This is the first event anything like a party that I’ve attended in two months, what a strange sensation. The school dance – just like the OC! The girls look like sweets, or like little girls who play at dressing up like princesses. The boys are too tiny/skinny for their pinstriped suits. Everything was extremely ridiculous. I was at a party where adults were present and there was no alcohol available (almost) , and yet – I had fun!

Italian original

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