Auburn: Outcasts and Underdogs

by Valerie Thomas

  ***

  I didn’t like to think of myself as a school dance girl. I wasn’t one to wear frilly dresses, or worry about dates on a Friday night. But in the couple hours between practice for Auburn and the Homecoming dance, I rethought that stance at least a dozen times. Perhaps more importantly, I thought about how I could go to the dance, have fun, and still be me.

  In other words, how to go to a dance Ashley Nimzovitch style. Step one was to pick out the least dance-y clothes I had: a black-and-white tank with the word “Overdose!” written across it in red ink, a pair of tight-fitting white jeans, black sneakers, and a pink hair tie that would let me throw my hair around without getting it in my eyes… If I wanted to.

  That ensemble probably explains Charlie’s reaction when he saw me answer the door. The sun was on its way down, but still high enough that I could see his brow wrinkle in confusion for a brief moment. “Wow,” he said a second later. “You look…”

  “Bad?” I stood there awkwardly; Charlie was wearing semi-formal attire, a polo and dress pants. We couldn’t have clashed more if we’d tried. “Um, maybe I should go change.” I started to turn back toward the house.

  Charlie touched my shoulder, gently turning me back around. “I don’t think you should change at all. You look amazing. I was just thinking about how jealous everyone else is gonna be.”

  The words were cliché, but I believed them because… Well, I wanted to. “Thanks!” I stepped out into the night, pausing only to close the door behind me before taking Charlie’s offered arm.

  His dad was parked right at the curb, making for a short walk. I tapped a small apple tree as we passed it, ignoring the wending pathway to head straight to the SUV. The grass could handle being stepped on once or twice.

  Charlie stepped forward, pulling the back door open and gesturing for me to slide in. Once I did, he followed me.

  “You look lovely tonight, Ashley,” his father said.

  “Thank you.” I noticed the rote way he said it, a compliment engrained through years of practice. But I wasn’t so crass as to point that out.

  “You’re welcome.” He started the car and pulled into the street.

  I’d been taking a driving class, and I tried to make a game of mentally critiquing the way Charlie’s dad drove. He had a tendency to roll through stop signs, never quite coming to a complete stop, and when I checked the speedometer he was going seven over the speed limit.

  “Too bad we aren’t bringing our equipment,” Charlie whispered.

  I twisted in my seat to look at him. “What? Oh yeah, that would be funny. If we had a CD, maybe we could convince the DJ to play one of our songs.”

  Charlie smiled, nodding as if he was genuinely considering the idea. “Once we have enough songs, we should definitely make a CD. But as it is… Maybe they’ll play some Queen Anne’s.”

  “Probably not. School function, you know.” I had a hard time imagining one of their songs on an approved playlist, especially since their most famous song that year was about a married man cheating on his wife.

  “You never know. They let us play, didn’t they?”

  “Oh yeah. How could I ever forget about that?” I chuckled. Through the front windshield, I could already see the familiar gray exterior of our high school.

  Charlie must have seen it too, since he sat up a little straighter and fished around in his pocket for our tickets. “I don’t think Joey’s coming, so we’re probably on our own in there.”

  It hit me how us vs. them our mentality had gotten, but I figured that was okay. Us vs. them was better than me vs. them. At least I had friends. I even had a boyfriend. I had to work to keep myself from reaching out and touching him, just to reassure myself that I wasn’t crazy.

  Then an even worse thought occurred to me, as Charlie’s dad pulled up to the curb. It was our first date. Am I supposed to act a certain way? I wondered. What am I supposed to do? It was probably a bad start that I’d worn such unique attire, but there wasn’t any helping that now.

  “Are you getting out?” Charlie asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. He was already out of the car, holding a hand out to me.

  He was such a perfect gentleman, and I was… Me. I ignored my sudden feelings of awkwardness and inadequacy and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah, of course.”

  There was a large sign over the main entrance, a white arrow pointing to our left. “I guess we’re supposed to go to the side entrance,” I said.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Charlie shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. I felt the same way; all around us, older students were arriving in their own cars, or kids our own age were walking in on their own. We were among a tiny group that had relied on our parents for transportation.

  Oh well. Arriving in style, partying in style, I thought. A confidence that came from the same place I was learning to use when I performed came bubbling up. That’s all this was, another performance. With that in mind, I took Charlie’s hand and practically dragged him forward.

  I’d never used or even seen the side entrance before. It was tucked away between two emergency staircases, so nondescript that I’m not sure we would have recognized it if it weren’t for the other students heading there.

  Like a special breed of cattle, we joined a line waiting while a woman in a simple black dress checked tickets. She moved slowly, and I didn’t get a clear view of her face until we were almost at the doors.

  Principal Wroth almost looked pretty, with her hair styled in fancy ringlets and a light dusting of makeup that hid most of her rougher features. For a moment, I considered running away; Wroth had a habit of greeting me every time we ran into each other in the halls. Maybe it was her way of making sure I was okay, but I thought it just made me look like a basket case.

  It was all a performance, though. So I pasted on a wide grin when it was our turn to show tickets. “Wow, Principal Wroth! You look great!”

  She cocked her head, no doubt confused by my sudden friendliness. “Thank you, Ashley. Same to you. Enjoy the dance.”

  “Oh, I definitely will.” I couldn’t resist an evil cackle. Let her wonder if I’m planning something. Of course, I was planning something. I was planning to have fun, no matter what the night might bring.

  The doors led into a basketball court without bleachers. It looked like it had been decorated around the same time the school was built, with walls of peeling white paint and floorboards that creaked as I stepped on them. On the far side of the room, someone had set up clothing racks that were serving as an impromptu coat-check. Closer to us, pulsing music was filtering through a dark hallway. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that that was where the dance was.

  With Charlie by my side, I stepped into the hall. It was the same one that we’d waited in before the assembly, but the flashing disco lights made it look different. There were some kids resting against the walls, others chatting happily, and one leaning down to slurp from the metal water fountain.

  A few steps ahead, I could see through an open doorway into the gym, where a DJ was standing at a raised black booth, playing with his laptop. Judging by the pop song that was playing, he didn’t have to do much work.

  “Well, last chance,” Charlie said. When I looked at him, he was wearing a worried expression that I hadn’t expected.

  “Nope, no going back now.” I grinned and took his hand. The music was playing, the lights were turned down low, and it was time for my performance.

  Inside the gym, it looked like most of the dancers had fallen into something between grinding and awkward fist pumping. I could have fit in easily, but I didn’t have any intention of fitting in. Once we were close to the center of the dance floor, I turned to face Charlie. “Do you know how to waltz?”

  The look of utter confusion he gave me nearly made me burst into laughter. “What? No. What are you…?”

  “It’s okay, I don’t know how either. But now seems like a great time to learn.” A new song came on, a fast-paced one that seemed more conducive
to a mosh pit than a waltz. I put one hand on Charlie’s shoulder and extended the other, approximating the position I’d seen in countless movies.

  There was a moment I could see in Charlie’s eyes, when he thought I’d gone crazy. A moment when he had to decide whether to join me in that craziness, or go his own way. His hand found mine and I felt a tug against my waist. “Let’s waltz.”

  Neither of us had the foggiest clue about how a real waltz was conducted, but we started to move anyway. The pace of the song had us struggling, and before I knew it we’d travelled all the way to one edge of the dance floor. Charlie took a step back and raised our clasped hands; taking his cue, I spun around once and returned to our dancing position.

  We nearly ran into a group of grinding couples on our trip back toward the DJ booth. Charlie led the way through, turning every which way but never releasing his grip on my waist. I spotted more than a few judging looks, but I didn’t much care. Pretending to waltz was fun.

  “Ooh, I have an idea,” Charlie said, holding his hand up to let me do another spin. “We could have a competition to see who can come up with a dance that clashes with the music the most.”

  “Perfect!” The pop song had just ended, and the romantic song that was starting seemed to fit a waltz a little too well for my tastes.

  “Okay, you first.”

  We’d found our way to a crowded area, but I did my best to come up with an unfitting dance anyway. I settled on grabbing my leg and hopping around in something I thought was called the sprinkler—but the way I did it, I doubt anyone would have caught the resemblance. I was sure I just looked spastic.

  In my enthusiasm, I accidentally hopped into someone else. “Oh, sorry!” I said, releasing my leg and trying to look contrite.

  The boy twisted away from his date. “You’re fine. Oh, hey Ashley.” Even though there wasn’t much light to go by, I recognized Will in an instant. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

  “Yeah…” I wasn’t sure I wanted to say more. I knew I wouldn’t have found out about Loser McGee without him, but it was hard to decide whether that was a good or bad thing. Should I blame him for what everyone said on there? I wondered. Or thank him for giving me a heads up, even if it was accidental?

  When Will’s date looked at me, I recognized her too. Maya. Her red-coated lips spread into a grin the moment our eyes met. “Ashley, what are you wearing? You, um… You look very unique.” It was hard to tell whether she was making fun of me, but given that she was friends with Jessica I guessed she was.

  “Wanna see my dance for this song?” Charlie asked, bringing my attention back to him. When I nodded, he did something I wasn’t prepared for: he spun around, backed up until I could feel his weight against my hips, and seductively rolled his entire body against mine.

  We were grinding, but in opposite positions. I felt Charlie’s warmth, could smell a hint of sweat mixed with his fresh-rain cologne… I could do this, something within me said. I could love this boy.

  He let out a bright chuckle, and I joined him. “You win,” I said. “You definitely win.”