04/27/2012 04:52 pm ET

TEEN FICTION: 'A Moment Worth Waiting For'

This is a regular column featuring original poetry and fiction by and for teens, provided by Figment.com, an online community writing site for young people.

By Danielle Osero

I was nearly shaking with nerves. He would be here any minute. Would he think I was beautiful? I hoped so. My crush on Jackson had only grown since he first sat with my friends and me at lunch our freshman year. Until recently, we had been just friends. Then a month ago, he texted me the one word that changed it all, “Hey.” We had always been school friends, nothing more, but as our texting increased, so had our interest in each other. Every text had me diving for my phone like a star athlete after the ball. I prayed each night that he felt at least half as interested as I did.

I’d known something was up when he asked me to come on a walk with him two weeks ago at lunch. After a few minutes, he paused and inhaled deeply before plunging ahead, “I’ve really enjoyed texting you Kailey. You’re funny and unique.” He handed me a bag of my favorite candy. The pieces were Caribbean blue, my favorite color. Confused, I smiled, “Thanks Jackson, this is really nice of you.” As I was about to put one in my mouth, I noticed the square white card attached to the bag. Picking it up in my fingers, I nearly gasped. In tiny gold lettering it read: Will you go to Homecoming with me? I looked up into Jackson’s hopeful green eyes and smiling face. I giggled, “I would love nothing more.” He gave me a hug, and held me tight as I held onto the hope that in the future he would ask me more than just to Homecoming.

For the next two weeks, the anticipation heightened and I scrambled to find the perfect dress. I finally chose a satiny dress with a sweetheart neckline the same shade of blue as the candy. Pairing the dress with black heels and silver accessories, I decided to curl my hair and let it fall around my shoulders. A silver butterfly clip with rhinestones held back the left side of my chestnut brown hair. Carefully manicured nails and my favorite flower-scented perfume finished the look. As I studied my outfit in the mirror, I hoped Jackson would like it as much as I did. More importantly, that he would like me. Then the doorbell rang. The object of my wonderings had arrived.

I descended the staircase as my father opened the door. I prayed he would not make good on the promise to completely embarrass me by interrogating Jackson. Reaching the entry to the living room, I took a deep breath and walked in. Jackson stood up, a dozen peach colored roses in his hand. He smiled and handed them to me. I took them and saw a card just like the first one. It read: Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend? The moment I had waited so long for was finally happening and my “Yes” began one of the best nights of my life.