The All American Cheerleader

"I was wondering whether you would go to the prom with me."

The shapely natural blond in the tight fitting cheerleader's outfit stared at me with disbelief. I knew what the source of her shock was.

It had nothing to do with whether I was popular enough to ask the Mona Taylor -- Cheer Squad Leader since she was a 10th grader and -- to be my date. I was.

And it nothing to do with whether I could afford a girl like her, a girl who a couple of dozen guys had spend hundreds of dollars on during their short dating periods, only to get little if anything out of her. Money was not an issue in the least.

The issue was that I was an alien resident, only hoping to become a true blue American; and Mona was the daughter of an ICE border guard, the mother of Homeland Security Department Prosecutor, and the granddaughter of not just ONE but TWO members of the civilian "Protect Our Borders" militia group.

I mean, it wasn't like these people were all a bunch of racist psychopaths bent on deporting or 'disappearing' every non-American within the borders. I had met most of them at the football basketball, or baseball games; and most of them had shown great appreciation for what I was doing to put our previously-struggling school on the athletic map.

But, did they really want to see me taking their daughter and granddaughter out to the prom?

Ironically, it was my own insecurities that was the problem. I wanted to be an American. By all rights, I WAS an American. I just didn't know whether I was American enough for Mona Taylor.

(OOC: Keep this racial polite, please. It's supposed to be about the insecurities all teenagers feel, not about race itself. You'll notice that I didn't state what his race is.)