At very long last, I’m attempting to get caught up on writing contest winners (my apologies … I won’t bore you with the life details that have put me so far behind!) … and this evening, we’re starting with the winners of our prom story writing contest, inspired by Ditched by Robin Mellom — a hilarious prom-centric romp!
The winner is Ashleigh Cartmill, who will receive a final copy of Ditched, bookmarks & some punk fairy temporary tattoos (they’re important in the book). All prizes are courtesy of Robin Mellom! Here is Ashleigh’s winning contest:
A Great Story
That night began as many prom nights do: in the back of a limo. The odd thing was, this limo was filled not with teenagers ready to get their groove on, but with a troop of geriatrics dressed in Bermuda shorts and strings of Mardi Gras beads. And smack in the middle of seniors woohooing it up sat me and my best friend Greg.
You think I’d be used to this by now. Greg’s life is nothing but a revolving door of one crazy antic after another, and as his best friend I’m always dragged into the middle of it. He just gives me these huge puppy dog eyes and wheedles, “Pleeeeeeease Lisa? It’ll make a great story!”
And I fall for it Every. Single. Time. On the plus side, I have some great stories. On the minus side, a few of them can never be repeated because they may or may not include breaking the law. Not like the major ones but the rules that are kind of a…gray area.
“Hey Greg, tell me again why we’re in a limo full of old people on prom night,” I say, fiddling with one of the ruffles on my lime green dress. I’d been skeptical when the saleslady suggested it, but I have to admit, with my olive skin and my black hair in its updo, it actually looked good.
“It’s not a limo of old people. It’s the Grow Old But Never Grow Up Party Bus!” Greg exclaims, bouncing in his seat. He too is looking rather dapper in a pale grey suit.
“I don’t even know what that means. Why don’t you try again?”
“We’re on a one way trip to old fashioned shenanigans!” he says, grinning like a four-year-old hopped up on sugar.
“Wow, could you sound any more like a commercial from the fifties?”
“Probably.” He slings an arm around me and my skin tingles where we touch. “Come on, just sit back and enjoy the ride.” I cross my arms and give him a look.
He sighs. “Okay, fine. I wanted to rent a limo and they told me the only one with space in it was the seniors’ party bus. You put up with a lot from me and I figured you deserve all the trappings that come with prom. One normal night. This is as close as I could get.”
I look at his dejected expression and can’t stop myself from bursting into laughter. “Oh Greg, we will never have a normal night.”
His head drops. “But,” I add, “that’s okay. Because nine times out of ten what we end up doing is more fun than any normal teen’s night.”
We never made it to our prom. But we did have a fantastic prom night. Unfortunately, I can’t talk about it. It falls in that gray area. Let’s just say, I know where to find the person who made the square fountain pour ice cream.
Look for more writing contest winners very soon!
Novel Novice 
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