Samantha Lockridge had descended the steps without incident. There had been no major incidents so far (at least that she'd observed personally), and she was confident. She had no reason not to be, after all. So here she stood, taking a brief moment to herself, sipping at a glass of champagne. Her dress was a confection of lace, elegant and playful but not too girlish. At least, in her eyes. The neckline, hemline, and silhouette should have been enough to convey the image of womanhood, at the very least.
Looking at what the other new debutantes had chosen to wear, Samantha suddenly wasn't so sure.
"I don't look strange, do I? Not too childish?" she asked of the person standing beside her. "You wouldn't mistake me for one of the younger students, right?"
wanna stand up and scream, what do i care?