She thought about the dress she would wear—Long? Short? Sparkly? Twirly?—and if her mom would let her wear heels. Oh, but her boy wouldn’t care about her shoes, would he? No, Colleen decided. Her boy wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t care if her hands got sweaty and she stepped on his feet when they danced. Her boy would just be happy that they were together. Colleen turned over and smiled into her pillow. Thinking about her boy gave Colleen this new feeling. It wasn’t that she felt like a different person. It was the opposite of that. She felt like herself, only more—taller, braver, stronger . . . Colleen-er. Maybe this was how a peach felt when it was ripe, or how a brownie felt when it was all baked and ready to come out of the oven. Even her mom had noticed the change. “Is something going on?” her mom had asked when they were sitting in the den after dinner. Colleen was doing math and her mom was sewing Joseph and Mary sock puppets for her Sunday school class. “Why are you asking that?”
What do You think about Emma Jean Lazarus Fell In Love?
