By Lynn LeCluyse
The plastic room key franticly slides into the key slot.
Whoosh! The door bursts open, almost hitting the wall. In flies the queen, sailing at the speed of light. “You’re late, your majesty.”
“My dress!” she screams to no one in particular, her eyes darting around the room in a panic. She plucks a plum colored, sleeveless, sparkly dress from a hanger and dashes into the bathroom to change.
Emily Taft , a senior at Notre Dame de Sion, is one of the 13 female students nominated to be the Flint Hills Publication Workshop queen at the dance and mixer. But the night hasn’t exactly started out on the right foot, as she races to get ready after returning late to the hotel room.
After slipping on the dress and combing through her hair a few times, she begins smearing on “Lady Danger” lipstick — the shade she bought while playing a prostitute in Rockhurst High School’s production of “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” Katy Perry’s “Hot N’ Cold” is blaring in the background through her rectangular, white iHome speakers placed on a desk in the corner. Still hustling, she brushes on a touch of “Cobalt” bright blue eye shadow to add a lively splash of color, a few swipes of Maybelline mascara, and she’s ready to go.
Queen Taft darts toward the elevator like she’s running from a life or death situation. She presses the down button with a quick, pecking movement, and the small arrow illuminates. Waiting. Waiting. With no time to spare, she heads for the stairs like a bat out of hell.
Racing down like Cinderella at midnight, Taft’s silver ballet flats are starting to slip off her feet. She reaches down to adjust them, takes a deep breath and heads into the Holiday Inn Ballroom. Not a minute to spare.
Introductions of the royalty have already begun. Taft scans the room for her group members, who promised to give her a winning introduction. Her group is nowhere to be found. “Is that everyone?” the DJ calls out through the microphone. Hesitantly, the flustered queen nominee steps forward. She looks around helplessly for a group member’s face in the crowd. Nothing. A friend from another group steps in.
After the introductions wrap up, it’s time for a little dancing before the winners are announced. Taft kicks off her shoes underneath a table and hits the dance floor. After a quick series of songs, the lights come on. The moment of truth has arrived.
The nominees line up. Taft is not selected, but it doesn’t bring her down. The lights dim and she’s back on the dance floor, laughing and smiling.
“It was a chaotic night,” she said, “Not at all what I expected. But I still had a great time.”
Lynn LeCluyse is a senior at Notre Dame de Sion and a student in the advanced writing class of the Flint Hills Publication Workshop.
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