Survival Of The Fittest

((Private thread between Craig Hoyle/Hera Alosso))

Hera Alosso's emotions were all over the place. She stood in her room and surveyed herself up and down in the mirror – a pretty Latina girl of eighteen in a short black dress – and let her breathe flow in and out as she ruffled some of the wrinkles out by her shoulder. She smiled softly at her reflection and swayed back in forth in place, listening to the acoustic guitar drifting out of her stereo. The dress she was wearing was a pretty one -- "as good as the ones you can get in a shop", her mother had said earlier – and for a strange moment, Hera Alosso actually considered herself to be one of the pretty girls. The days of sitting in her room on Friday nights were over; spending her time running on the track afterschool was over; today was the essential day to live out the high school experience and get memories worth remembering.

Sucking in her breathe, Hera traipsed out of her room and down the short hallway in the Alosso's apartment. There was nobody home – her father being on the graveyard shift and Hera herself being an only child – so there was only one person to see her as she escorted herself down the street to meet her date.

"Tu estas bonita", Mrs.Alosso said as her daughter walked into the kitchen.

Hera grinned. "Thanks mama".

"It's true", Mrs.Alosso said again, this time with a hint of urgency. "You'll be the one turning heads out on the dance floor. It's just been a few months Hera, but you've come so far. This is what me and your father want to see you doing. There's a time for a woman to get out of the house, you know? Meet a handsome man?"

"Craig will be waiting just down the block", Hera said quickly. "Then we're getting a cab to prom'.

"Craig", Mrs.Alosso said, trying the name out on her tongue. "He sounds like a nice boy. Why didn't you invite him over? I could have taken pictures of you two before you left. Your father just got the camera back from the sho-

"They take pictures of everyone at prom", Hera said quickly. "I'll get you a copy – and we wanted to get to prom early before anybody else shows up. It's nice to have the dance floor cleared out".

That, of course, was a downright lie. As caring of a woman as Mrs.Alosso was, she was somewhat judgmental on first appearances and wouldn't have liked the idea of her fragile daughter dating a boy that was comically larger than her. Hera hoped that her mother's image of Craig was a short, well-built boy with broad shoulders and blonde hair that was almost white. It was a horrible thing to think – especially considering how she had really begun to feel about Craig – but getting her mother into her dating issues wasn't something Hera wanted to delve into. After all, it was prom night.

Hugging her mother goodbye, Hera quickly opened the door and walked down the stairwell of their apartment complex. When she got outside, she breathed in the night air and walked down the sidewalk, feeling at peace with the world. About halfway down, she squinted and saw a figure of a large boy waiting at the end of the sidewalk, silhouetted by the orange streetlight. Letting out a small smile, Hera began to walk down the street and raised a welcoming hand into the night. Here we go girl, just don't mess this one up….

"Hey Craig!" Hera called.

Craig sighed and shuffled around a bit… the tuxedo still felt a bit tight. He remembered the day he got it as though it were just a few moments ago… not even as though it was yesterday. The minute Craig got home after that fateful meeting at the football field, he told his dad in hysterics about what happened, about Hera, and how his life was just that much more wonderful. He, the fat kid that was the butt of every obesity joke until he finally scored a spot on the football team at high school, and who probably had half the girls thinking he was some slob who could topple onto them and crush them at any moment, had managed to get a date for prom!

When his dad and his uncle took him to go rent a tuxedo, Craig could feel the stares of the women working there even when he didn't make eye contact. They were probably wondering if they even had anything in his size, or if they would have to custom-tailor something. Things took a turn for the better when, out of nowhere, a rather small, old, but warmly smiling woman came from the back and went about to measuring Craig practically before he could ask her to, and showed him a catalogue of all the styles they had. Unbelievably, they had them in his size, too!

His dad and uncle wanted to get Craig in a white tuxedo, but Craig pressed for a black one. The practical explanation that he offered was that black was a slimming color and it would help with his, well… girth. Of course, the real reason is that he wanted to look just like a movie spy, such as James Bond, and the look just wasn't the same with a white tux. Just a few days later, they picked up the tux, and Craig tried it on. He never expected it to feel as good as it did, even if it was a bit tight in places. Right as he put it on, he could already feel the dance floor beneath his feet and the music in his blood. Not that he could dance, but to hell with what he couldn't do, he was going to the prom, and not by himself!

Here he was, standing on the street corner as the sun slowly fell, the air getting a bit nippy. Not that it bothered him any, of course; if he had a superpower, it was to ward off the cold with all his blubber, as his favorite joke often went. Hera would be here soon, just as planned, and he had called a cab to pick them up in just a few moments. Any minute now… hopefully it didn't arrive before her, or he'd look like an absolute fool.

Hey Craig!

He heard those words, and the worries just melted away. Craig hardly even had to look; as he was turning his head towards the voice, he shouted: "HERA!" He turned the rest of his body to square with the girl, waved a bit awkwardly and smiled. "Geez, Hera, hi there!" Once she had gotten closer, under the same light as him and was shined upon by the same orange glow… it was strangely romantic. The city kept trucking on around them, moving on into the ever-modern and gritty world. But right there on the sidewalk, in that one dim and dying spotlight, the two of them upheld a tradition that dared to stop time in its tracks.

"You… y-you look beautiful!" Craig breathed, looking at Hera from the feet up, skimming her dress but then focusing his eyes on her face. "Just… w-wow!" He blushed and gulped, rubbing the back of his head to take care of a perpetual itch that just wouldn't go away. "Q-Quite the place to meet, huh? But, um… all the same, I'm glad you're here!" Craig struggled to remember… what was one of those things his dad said a girl really liked to hear? "And that dress really brings out your eyes!" He meant it, too; maybe it was just the light and the ambience of the dark street corner, but Hera's eyes did seem especially vibrant tonight.