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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Romance/Love · #166878
Just something I started writing, we'll see where it goes!
The sound of the music pumped through the room as the bright lights flashed. Hot, sweaty bodies mingled on the dance floor, swaying to the hip hop beat. And she sat alone. Alone by the door, her legs crossed awkwardly, twisting a ringlet of hair around her finger absently. It wasn't as if she minded just watching. She was more of a wallflower anyway. But it wasn't exactly her idea of an exciting Friday night. Her friends had dragged her to the stupid dance. They thought it was a fun idea, to get her all dolled up and do her makeup and then take her to the dance to show off this Frankenstein of fashion they had created. She felt like a cheap, absurd display in her short, frilly red dress and the lacey cardigan she had thrown over it to give some semblance of decency. She had almost tripped on the stairs in her spike heels. So she had resigned to the row of chairs set up specifically for girls like her.

She watched the rest of the students as they danced, a few couples but mostly just big groups having a good time. Then she spotted him. He was walking along the side of the dance floor purposefully. He caught her eye and smiled amicably, waving. She almost melted into the floor. She smiled weakly and waved back. God, he was adorable. That short blonde hair perfect, spiked straight up. His square jaw broke into another smile and his eyes squinted up as he headed into the crowds.

She sighed. He was the picture of perfection, a Greek god of teenage boys. Football in the fall, hockey in the winter, baseball in the spring. Perfect grades, A honor roll of course. Countless friends, even his own car. She knew.....she watched him every day from the safety of her locker. He talked to her sometimes....they had Spanish class together and English last year. They shared a mutual appreciation of big band music and jazz. They would always make cracks at the teacher together. If he ever needed help with an assignment he asked her. She was like a sister to him......a little sister. Not someone you would consider romantically.

She wasn't exactly from his crowd either. She wasn't what you would call athletic...not that she was overweight. But she was the intellectual type. Drama club, debate and speech team, student council and choir. He hung out with the jocks, she hung out with.....well, the preps and the artists, if you could classify her friends as that. They had nothing in common. But then, that's how life works.

The faster music ended and she heard the mellow sound of a bass. After a few strains she recognized it as "Fly Me To The Moon", that old Sinatra song. Odd choice for a high school dance, but then, teenagers are odd things. She had this CD at home......she knew every word. She hummed a few strains and felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, expecting her friends, and was surprised to see him standing there, a grin on his face. He held out one hand and after a confused pause she took it and he led her to the floor.

It seemed like a dream. He took her hand and placed his other hand on her hip. She vaguely remembered learning the foxtrot and followed his lead as he started dancing. There were only a few couples on the floor, one of them a pair of old chaperones. He looked at her and smiled, speaking for the first time that night. "I couldn't stand seeing you sit over there alone. You looked so sad."

She paused. "I was alright.....I don't like dancing."

"That's obvious," he chuckled. It wasn't a mean comment, and it was very true. "You didn't dress like this yourself, did you?"

She thought of lying, but he would have known the truth. She smiled and shook her head no.

"You looked uncomfortable. I think school dances are a form of torture. It's only girls getting dressed up to the point of injuring themselves and guys getting drunk."

She looked at him. "Then why did you come?"

He shrugged. "My friends dragged me along." He looked at her and grinned. "Besides, someone has to rescue you from boredom."

She laughed. The music slowly died and the next song came on. This one was slower, "The Way You Look Tonight." Another big band song. It couldn't be a coincidence. More people joined on the dance floor and swayed to the music as the vocalist crooned the first few lines. Before she was even aware of it, his hand had slowly slid to her lower back and he brought her in closer to him. Her mind was reeling, but she took a breath and steadied her nerves.

They danced in silence for a long time, his cheek next to hers, only a breath away.
He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "I know you like big band, so I requested these for you." When she looked at him, he met her gaze and she saw there everything she hoped that, one day, she would really see in his eyes, what she's hoped and prayed for at night, what she'd longed for during the day. He whispered, "I'll always remember the way you look tonight."

They didn't need to say anything more. They swayed to the music as if ten feet of the ground. Their cheeks rested against each others and she was surprised to find how soft his skin was. She smiled and closed her eyes, and knew she, too, would always remember tonight.
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