The rest of the week seems to drag on. As it grows closer and closer to Saturday, you begin to feel like you're walking on air. Soon, you'll be out with Priscilla. Together, you'll escape from your daily responsibilities and enjoy yourselves.

Yet, your mouth goes dry every time you think about asking your mother for permission to go. Even when it's just you and her alone, you can't seem to work up the courage to ask.

You've been trying all week. You tried to ask once while you were eating supper. You accomplished at least mentioning it in passing while you helped get your siblings ready for bed.

But it wasn't enough to get the hint across.

Now it's finally Saturday. And you can't push it back any longer.

"Mom." You say. Your hands are already feeling sweaty. "Can I ask you something?"

Her head tips upward from the laundry that she's folding. "Of course."

You take a deep breath as you smooth out one of Danny's shirts, hoping to seem nonchalant. "You know about that dance happening tonight, right?"

"Yes." She replies with a soft laugh.

Her gentle nature relaxes you, making it easier to ask than you were anticipating. "Well, I was wondering if I could attend the dance." You say. When she doesn't immediately reply, you give a quick shrug. "I understand if you don't want me to. I was just asking." You stutter.

Your mother gives you a light smile. "I have no issue with you going to a dance." She says and you feel the anxiety releasing from your chest. It has been building up for the past week and now it's like you can finally breathe. "You're young and you should have fun!"

You're about to pull her into the tightest hug possible and rapidly list off every reason why she's the best mother on earth, but she gets that look.

The look that means she has bad news.

"However." She adds.

Your heart stops and you freeze in place. You watch her gaze fall from yours as she busies herself back into the laundry.

Her wrists quickly snap one of the bedsheets, shaking out the wrinkles before she lays it flat on the table. "George said that there were going to be dangerous boys there. And I don't want you getting yourself involved in that mess."

"I'm not going to get involved with them." You quickly promise. You blink and fumble for words, hoping you'll be able to say something to change her mind. "Those boys are nothing but a nuisance. Delinquents. Degenerates!"

Your mother remains firm so you step forward. You're practically begging on your knees now, praying she'll believe you. "All I want is a chance to go out and be with my friends. Do something outside of this apartment building. Outside of the market."

Your mother's eyebrow arches. She looks you up and down before turning away and you know that you've lost. "And you can. Just not tonight. Not a dance that is going to be swarming with troublesome boys."

You scoff in disbelief.

Why is she crushing you like this? How can she approve of the dance and then tell you that you're not allowed to go tonight because of the Jets?

You lock your jaw and drop your eyes. You want to tell her that you're living in West Side now. These boys are going to be at every dance. It doesn't matter if it's tonight or in the next twenty years.

Keeping you cooped up and away from them won't protect you from the damages they cause.

"I know it seems unfair." Your mother suddenly says. She's refusing to look at you anymore, keeping her gaze on her work. "But you'll understand when you have kids of your own. I just want to keep you safe."

Rarely are you dramatic, especially with your mother, but you don't need to be kept safe. You can handle yourself. You don't need her or George to be watching out for you constantly.

You toss the newly folded shirt onto the table and leave your mother in the kitchen alone. She calls after you, disappointment present in her tone, but you don't care. You want some time to yourself to think.

You restrain yourself from slamming your bedroom door, knowing it'll only cause you further problems.

When you enter farther into your room, you're greeted by your curtains slightly swaying from the breeze outside. You hastily cross the room to shut the window out of anger, but a beautiful dress hanging from your folding screen catches your eye.

You stop in your tracks, unsure if it's even real.

You rush towards it, afraid it might disappear if you don't get to it soon enough. Your hands grasp the soft texture of a new, never-worn dress and you want to sink into it. It's taking everything in you to not try it on immediately.

This is the most gorgeous dress you've ever seen. Your fingers trace each part of it. You gush over its simple yet mesmerizing design, already picturing how its color will complement your skin.

Pinned on the side, you find a note attached.

Tony, with a little input from Priscilla, bought you this dress to wear tonight to the dance.

You glance over your shoulder to the door to your room.

Now you really don't care what your mother thinks. You are going to this dance and no one can stop you.

After all, you told Tony you'd go if he got you a new dress. He came through with his promise so you can't back out now. Plus, Priscilla is expecting to have a night out with you.

Fearing what might happen if your mother finds this, you scramble to hide it in your closet. Tucking it safely behind your other dresses and out-grown clothing, you know that it'll be safe there until tonight.

You spend the rest of the day sulking to keep your family off your trail. You are also partially hoping that your mother will change her mind when she sees how upset you are, but she doesn't. Everything carries on the way that it always does.

Except for tonight, when you say you're going to bed early, you don't give a reason.

"Aren't you going to ask to be excused?" Thomas scoffs, watching you rise from your seat.

"Leave her alone." Your mother immediately chides, her voice giving no room for argument. "It's been a long day. Let your sister be."

You refrain from smirking in delight at his scolding and head straight for your room instead.

You shut your door and quickly lock it behind you. You can't risk anyone finding out that you're gone. Without a second thought, you bolt to your closet and grab your new dress, excitement now returning back to you.

You grin as you peel it out from behind your tacky old dresses.

It's just as stunning in the evening light.

You practically throw open your bedroom window and crawl out onto the fire escape.

Carefully holding your dress to your chest, you make your way to Priscilla's room. As if she knew that your mother wouldn't approve of you going to the dance, her window is wide open for you to climb in.

"I'm here." You say, making your best friend jump.

She says your name with a gasp as she places her hand over her heart. "You scared me. Don't do that." She playfully scolds as she turns around from her vanity with a glare.

"Sorry." You smile.

"Well, get dressed." She urges, waving you to go behind her folding screen. "I want to see that dress on you. I've been thinking about it all day."

You don't need to be told twice.

Without care, you tear your stained dress off of your body and let it drop to the floor. You reach for the new one, your heart rapidly beating in your chest.

You cautiously slip the dress over your shoulders, fearing for a second that you might get stuck in it. But as it slips over the rest of your body, you relax into its comfortable embrace. You run your hands over your hips, loving how it emphasizes your figure.

Your mother would never let you out in this.

It's something that actually makes you look like a pretty young woman.

"Are you ready? Priscilla whines. With a playful eye roll, you step out from behind her folding screen.

She lets out a squeal, her tan hands covering her mouth as she bounces on her seat. In one swift movement, she's up on her feet and adoring the dress on you, showering you with compliments in Italian as she brushes your hair from your face.

"Oh, it'll be no trouble finding you a boy tonight." She beams. Her dark eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. "We'll have a problem keeping them from fighting for you."

You laugh, feeling yourself beginning to blush. You've never been seen as anything special, especially in your own eyes. Compared to Priscilla, you've always thought of yourself as an average girl in West Side.

You've never seen yourself as unattractive.

Just basic.

A little dull.

"Let me do your makeup and hair tonight," Priscilla begs as she grabs your hands. "I won't do much. Just a little shadow, mascara, and lipstick."

You find yourself agreeing and she sits you at her vanity before you can change your mind. As if she's done it a thousand times, she gently applies each part when necessary, mumbling to herself as she does it.

"Before I turn you around to see, I wanna do your hair." She says, rising from the floor. Her makeup kits clack as she sets them on her vanity counter. "It's a simple updo. Nothing too fancy, I promise."

Priscilla knows how reserved you are. It mostly has to do with how you were raised. Money isn't spent on makeup when there are six people to feed and house. Though your mother and you share an eyeshadow kit, you rarely use it as you never leave the apartment.

This also means you do little with your hair. You brush it and keep it pulled back, but you don't try new hairstyles often.

"Alright." You say. "As long as it isn't too outrageous."

It takes Priscilla little time to fix your hair to her liking. A few hairpins stick out from her mouth as she expertly slides them into your hair. Some of them are tighter than you would like, but she steps back with pride on her face. "Take a look."

You turn to look at your reflection and you nearly fall out of your seat. You lean forward, in awe that the person staring at you is really you. The makeup is subtle but draws attention to your eyes. Your hair is pulled back artfully, yet it remains modest.

All of it is incredibly to your taste. It all screams you.

"Oh, Priscilla." You say, your gratitude ready to come pouring out.

"Don't thank me yet." She smiles with a wave of her hand. "Thank me when I set you up with the most handsome man in West Side."

You let out a laugh as she helps you stand. Priscilla calls out to her mother that the two of you are heading to a dance. She instructs you to have fun and not to stay out too late. Both of you promise that you'll be back soon as you exit her apartment.

Anxiety and excitement bubble inside your stomach as you walk with Priscilla to the gym.

You wonder how many people are going to attend and how they'll be dressed. How many will recognize you and stop for a quick chat?

Your mind drifts to dance partners. How many will be showing up with a date already attached to their arm?

Will there be a boy waiting there for you as Priscilla said?

It's easy for her to find dates. She's pretty and bubbly. Boys like that in girls.

All of your worries disappear as you enter the gym, the loud jazz music and colorful dresses now capturing all of your attention. Tonight is definitely going to be entertaining and memorable.

~~~~~~~~~~~