Dancing With Classmates

Dancing With Classmates
By: Devin Barrows


High School prom, it’s the teenage romantic rival of Valentine’s Day, for most. For others, it’s a depressing slap in the face, ridiculing them for being single, and alone. Adam Wiley sits at a bustling table at his prom, black and blue. The black tuxedo highlights his blue vest. He glances around at the multitude of familiar faces. He sees his ex-girlfriends, each one happy on the arm of another guy. Going back in his memory, he remembers how different he had been when he was with them. He was selfish, disrespectful, and most memorably, horny. Adam found it ironically comical that he got the best girls as an asshole, but now, as a reformed nice guy, he was sad, and lonely.

The mood of dance hall changes dramatically as the tempo shifts for a slow song. He turns to his friend Dan.
“Yes, fantastic!”
Dan puts down his punch.
“Ok Adam, What’s up?”
“Oh, you know me Danny Boy! You know how much I love sitting idly by as all these happy bastards frolic to the hardwood to dance with the loves of their young lives.”
Dan laughs at his predictable friend’s cynicism.
“Now I thought you were supposed to be happy for them. You know, realize their love, and partake in the joy.”
Adam shakes his head.
“No, no, no. See, You’re assuming that I myself am happy.”
Dan’s brow wrinkles.
“You’re confused. I can see that. Just allow me to explain. Society tells us no, sorry, demands that we be ‘happy for others’. However, when you really look close, you see that it’s only the happy people who have the happiness to spare.”
Dan swallows a mouthful of punch out off his glass, now returned to his hand.
“So you’re telling me that unhappy single people are unhappy in all aspects of their lives?”
The soft song plays on as Adam continues to rant.
“Oh come on Dan, listen up! If one is unhappy with his own love life, how can he be happy for someone else? Believe me, you would understand much better if you were single.”
Dan downs the remainder of his punch in less than a second.
“Well in that case, Adam…” He reaches out and grabs his girlfriend’s hand.
“I’m glad I don’t understand.”
Dan rises to his feet.
“May I have this dance?” His girlfriend blushes as they walk towards the center floor.

Adam’s full bladder gives him an excuse to temporarily escape the depressing mood of the slow dance. He makes his way past the overflowing ladies room, to the empty men’s room. He zips up and walks to the sink, where a friendly looking African American stands offering cologne and towels.
“Good evening Sir.”
Adam looks from the man’s smiling face down to his nametag.
“Hi Alfred Wilson. How has your night been? Better than mine I hope!” Alfred retains his honest smile.
“Oh me Sir? Oh I’ve had a great night! I’ve been people watchin’!”
Adam giggles to himself as he lathers the soap in his hands.
“People watching?”
“Yes Sir. Young men have been in and out of here all night, lookin’ just like yourself.”
Adam’s face shows his slight feeling of shock.
“Like myself?”
“Well you know, sad, depressed, confused.”
Adam immediately sees Alfred as someone who understands what he’s going through. He thinks of a great question to ask Alfred, but reconsiders after taking his new friend’s intelligence into account. He shuts the water off with his wet, clean hands. Alfred holds out a towel. Adam ponders how he could translate his question into layman’s terms.
“What would you do if you found the love of your life, four months after you broke her heart?”
Alfred stands silent a moment as he sprays cologne in Adam’s direction.
“Sir, you can’t go mendin’ hearts that you done broke in the first place.”
Adam nods in quiet agreement as he reaches in his pocket for a tip. All he finds is his last twenty-dollar bill.
“I would go into it more, but I’ve reconsidered after taking your intelligence into account Sir.”
His smile refuses to fade. Adam slips him the tip as he walks to the door.
“Oh, um, one more thing Alfred. Do you agree that ‘Nice guys finish last’?”
Alfred laughs audibly.
“No Sir, not in the least.”
“How come?”
Alfred tosses Adam’s used towel into a bin.
“You should see me wife Sir. Then, maybe, just maybe, you would understand.”

The dance hall vibrates with the sound of rap. Adam scans the crowd for his date, finding her on the dance floor, grinding on Steve. Adam has a profound distaste for Steve. Not only is he currently dating the love of Adam’s life, but he disrespects her in the worst ways. He looks back to the table he was sitting at last. There she sits, pretending not to see her boyfriend, all over Adam’s date.
“Having a good time Katie?”
His words pull her from her lackadaisical state.
“Hi Adam.”
Her voice lacks the enthusiasm of his.
“Shouldn’t that be you dancing with Steve?”
She looks at her boyfriend on the dance floor.
“Shouldn’t that be you dancing with your date?”
Her sense of humor is one of the things Adam misses most. Dried tears push slightly through the cover-up on her face.

He loses himself in her eyes, feeling once again the euphoria that’s been absent from his life for so long.
“Well look who it is, Adam, the jackass.”
Hearing those words come from a person like Steve made him cringe.
“Katie, why don’t you be a doll and go get me and you some punch while I talk to our friend here.”
Katie stands and heads for the juice with her head down.
“Why don’t you try ‘please’ next time Steve. The results are uncanny.”
Steve lets out his cheesiest of fake laughs.
“You know Adam, I could sit here and play BS catch with you all night, but I’d rather skip ahead to my point. Four months ago I met a girl. She was heartbroken, depressed, and damn near suicide. Jesus Adam. She would’ve done anything for you.”
It hurts Adam to know the truth in Steve’s words.
“You don’t understand Steve, things were a lot different then, there were circumstances.”
Steve interrupts before Adam can explain.
“That’s the difference between me and you Adam. You see, there are no circumstances that would make me think- even for a second, about breaking that perfect girl’s heart.”
Steve’s sentimentality holds no effect on an excited Adam.
“Yea Steve, I know, you’d much rather break her ribs right?”
His sarcasm is ill received as Steve nearly jumps out of his chair.
“Listen here Casanova! You and Katie are done! Over! I suggest you give her the peace she deserves.”
Adam knows when to fight, and when to back down.
“She deserves better.”
Steve laughs sarcastically.
“And I suppose you’re better? I suppose you’re her knight in shining armor, here to save her from my evil. Well you know what? Her heart is fragile. I cannot and will not allow you to hurt her again.”
Adam looks deep into Steve’s eyes and sees his dark anger, brooding underneath.
“You win Steve.”
Adam turns and walks toward the exit. His focus shifts to the punch bowl where Katie is fixing Steve’s drink. Adam grabs her arm and spins her around.

“Come with me!”
“What is this Adam?”
“Come, me and you, let’s go. You gotta leave him.” She yanks her arm away.
“Why would I go with you? I have a boyfriend who actually thinks of me as a woman, and not a buddy who he calls whenever he feels like shooting pool!”
“Look, I know I screwed up. I screwed up big! But I am not the person I used to be. Not only that, but I would never, ever, lay a finger on you.”
She shakes her head.
“You think you know everything don’t you? You sure do buy into the rumors. Well let me be the one to tell you that he never touched me.”
Adam nods with a sad smirk on his face as he reaches out to her stomach. He lightly pinches he lowest rib on her lift side. She lets out a short scream followed by fast, heavy breathing.
“Yeah, because everyone ‘trips’ down the stairs while arguing with their boyfriends.”
Adam turns away and leaves the banquet hall.
The friendly old lady at the coat check hands Adam his jacket in exchange for his ticket. He steps outside onto the sidewalks of downtown. He sits himself down on the dusty, dirty curb, cars whizzing in front of his face. Foot steps approach him from behind. Before he can turn to see, another body plops down next to him on the curb.
“You sad too?”
Adam sees an old face, beaten and tattered by poverty. The bum’s hand is outstretched, offering Adam a sip of his rum.
“Yea, something like that.”
Both men sit silently, one in a tux, one in rags.
“What’s your name stranger?” Adam asks the bum.
“I’m pretty sure it’s Bob.” Adam chuckles.
“Bob, have you ever had to watch someone you love make a horrible mistake?” The bum coughs a few times, then clears his throat.
“Son, look at me. My whole life has been a horrible mistake.” He passes back the rum.

High heels click on the sidewalk outside the banquet hall.
“Is that you Adam?” He jumps to his feet to greet his ex-girlfriend, Jamie.
“Adam, what the hell happened? Where’s your jacket?” Adam looks down at the worm out rag that used to be a Carrhardt jacket.
“Bob the bum has it.”
“A bum stole your tux jacket?” He shakes his head.
“No, no. I gave it to him.” She stares at him. Adam sees familiar marks under her eyes.
“You sad too? She touches her stomach.
“Yea, but I’m in the second stage of sadness, hunger.” Adam puts his hand into his pocket, feeling something unfamiliar. He puts out a twenty-dollar bill. Confused, he holds it up to the light so he can read the writing on it. ‘Don’t forget about dessert.’ He puts Alfred’s tip away and smiles at the radiant Jamie.
“Prom sucks, let’s go eat.” Adam offers.
“I’m all for that idea, there’s too many happy people around here anyway.”