My friends and I have been planning our perfect homecoming for months, but nothing ever goes as planned, does it?

My plans began in Helena, Montana the first week of July, I hiked up Mount Helena with my father thinking about school and getting to see all my friends again, because I already missed them after a few weeks. Nearing the top I thought about all the festivities that would make Freshman year different from any other year. I would have a new locker, have gym class with upperclassmen, face the last lunch of the day, and finally get to go to my first Homecoming Dance.

At the top of the mountain, I looked over the capital and watched the mountains fade into the horizon and saw storm clouds coming for me. I heard a sound and started running down the mountain with my father in front of me. If you have ever experienced running through a hail storm down a mountain covered in rain slick rocks in the middle of Montana, you remember every little detail from that day, because it is an event you’ll never forget.

As we approached the end of the trail and the beginning of the city, soaked to the bone and getting looks from the locals, we decided to walk down the main shopping district back to our dorms. Hiking through the city wasn’t nearly as eventful until we passed a little boutique with a dress that I knew would be my homecoming dress; it was red and white polkadotted and had stripes on the top. The next day I bought it.

Now, if you saw me at the dance, you know I didn’t wear it.

Exactly a week before the dance I had to order a new dress, because I lost some weight from the soccer season and because I tore a rip in my dress. I was in a frazzled state of mind when the Wednesday before the dance I found out the new dress wasn’t coming till the 17th of October, not the 13th like we expected. So I had to go shopping again.

If you know me, I strongly oppose clothes shopping, because it makes me feel like I can’t compare to those girls in the magazines wearing the same clothes. Going to multiple dress stores was like a torture device being used on me, but I finally got my third and final dress.

My friends and I, five of us in all, decided to get ready after practice Friday at my house, which was a blast. Our parents and each of us helped get each other ready, doing hair, make up, and making playlists. After some ACDC, Walk the Moon, Panic at the Disco, and Twenty One Pilots, we took some crazy photos–Squad photos, selfies, individual, and even some mock Charlie’s Angels poses. I was so amazed at how each of my friends are gorgeous in their own way and show their beauty in their style.

The dance itself was a little chaotic, but it, as well as getting ready, was quite fun. I walked in and saw a whole group of my friends already there. After saying hello and commenting at how extraordinary everyone looked, I paid my entrance fee and voted for Freshman Homecoming Princess and Prince. I walked into what seemed to be a pitch black gym, just to be suddenly blinded with red and green lights. The music and lights came from the center of the gym and Olympic themed banners decorated the walls. The main group of people danced and sang in front of the booth, but some quieter groups scattered the edge. A wide variety of chips and water bottles scattered the tables out by the entrance, allowing people like me to entertain ourselves during slow dances. My friends and I took a normal break in the upbeat music to new heights with mini water bottle flipping challenges, snack breaks, and group photoshoots. We were all ecstatic to see who won King and Queen, so when they began to, we all rushed to hear the news. All the royals of the night were glowing with joy and wore their golden laurel wreaths with pride the rest of the night.

As the night drew on, the crowds thinned out and everyone went home. Lines of cars filled the parking lot and the road with parents picking up their kids. I piled in with my friends into a car and was driven home, all the while being interrogated by our parents. After a few fits of laughter, I walked in my front door and thinking about what other “Freshman Fears” I might have to face.

Thank you for reading my first article of a series of articles named “Freshman Fears.” Do you have a topic in mind for my next article? Comment below!