by Susan Wu
“Hey, save me a dance later?”
She gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “Yeah right, Samuel Jordan. You know me better than that.”
“Right. The no dancing rule. Can't blame a guy for trying, right? Have a good time tonight,” he leans in and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek. The green eyed dragon roars inside me and I beat it back once again, finally forcing my eyes to tear away. Sam rejoins our group and Mackenzie claws onto his forearm in an instant, chastising him in an angry, whispered voice as they walk to a table toward the front of the room. It is going to be a very long night.
Fallon catches my eye and gives me a small, weary smile before turning away and busying herself with the punch bowl. I turn and walk toward our table and take a seat next to Mackenzie who is still absolutely seething. She is still whisperingly exasperatedly to Sam. Emma is shifting uncomfortably, stuck sitting between them. Sam brushes Mackenzie off in a way only he can.
Unperturbed, Mackenzie and Emma start whispering in conspiring tones. I recognize this from lunch, they are plotting something. They straighten up and conversation at the table resumes. Mackenzie places her hand on my forearm, giving me her most winning smile. I have a hard time concentrating on their conversation. Sam is leaning back in his chair, swirling his glass of punch, joking and laughing with Liam. When I glance back toward the punch bowl, Fallon is already gone.
Fallon
Seeing Ethan and Mackenzie together was harder than I thought it would be. He looks so dashing in that suit, his tie matching Mackenzie’s dress perfectly. In fact, everything about them looks picture perfect--they make a beautiful, flawless couple. Homecoming King and Queen personified.
I sneak a glance at them from under my lashes and my stomach twists as Mackenzie places her hand on Ethan’s arm possessively. I try to focus on the pineapple rings floating in the punch but my vision blurs as tears well in my eyes. Something is seriously wrong with me. I was the one that pushed Ethan away. Mackenzie’s laughter carries across the gymnasium, the sound cutting right through me.
I think I’ve had enough of punch duty. I pick up my bag from under the table and grab my jacket from the back of the chair. I shrug on my jacket and slip out of the gymnasium through a side door leading to the girl’s locker room. The door clicks quietly shut behind me. I gulp in huge lungfuls of air, but I can’t seem to get the suffocating feeling to lift from my chest.
I can still hear the muffled sounds of the music and chatter through the closed door. I cut through the locker room and down another long empty hallway before exiting into the empty picnic area. A rush of cool air hits my face and I take a deep, shuddering breath. The quiet of the night is a relief. I close my eyes as they start to water. From the sting of the cold air, of course.
Putting down my bag on the nearest faded red tabletop, I plop down on the bench. I dash away a wayward tear with the sleeve of my jacket. I know I'm still on the hook for clean up duty but I really just want to bail. I’m angry at myself for trying to compete with Mackenzie for Ethan’s attention. Seeing them together in all their perfection... I’ve never felt so foolish.
It’s gotten a lot cooler now and my exposed legs are cold, but I don’t care. My head feels less cloudy out here in the clear outdoor air. Or maybe its the distance from Ethan that allows me to think more logically. My breathing is erratic from trying to suppress my tears.
I rest my arm on the table and press my forehead against it, trying to focus on my uneven breathing. I am being completely illogical. I have purposefully and willfully done everything in my power to avoid Ethan. I have no claim on this boy yet there was no denying the gut wrenching jealousy I felt watching Ethan with Mackenzie. Who was I kidding anyway? Mackenzie always got what she wanted anyway. It was the Mackenzie way of life.
“Is this seat taken?” I whip my head up from the table. Ethan is standing on the other end of the picnic table, pointing to the bench across from me. My heart leaps in my throat. I was so lost inside my head, I had not heard his approach.
I try to clear my throat, but my voice is still barely a whisper, “Uhm, no it’s not. Please sit down.” I almost smile, remembering our first interaction as these picnic tables. I had thought in much simpler terms then.
Ethan slides into the bench, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sits. His eyes are wary as he folds his elegant hands on top of the chipped red table. He leans forward, letting out a gust of held breath, “So... You’re at Homecoming.”
“I didn't really have a choice,” I mumble back, concentrating on his folded hands against the faded backdrop of the table.
“What do you mean?”
“Principal Mullens's idea of disciplinary action. Punishment resulting from my out of character behavior on D-day.”
“D-day?”
I look up from the table to gauge his expression, “Dance day. The day the invitations go out for Homecoming. They call it D-day.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Ahh... so this is your punishment for fighting with Mackenzie?”
I bristle back, annoyed by his choice of words, “For defending myself against Mackenzie. Zero tolerance policy and all that good stuff the school board likes to impose on the student body.”
“So no in school detention or even suspension... your punishment is to be on the dance committee?”
“You can add shrink to his list of credentials. Mullens’s thinks I’m too secluded from my peers,” I mutter, thinking back to what happened right before I ended up in Mullens’s office. I look down at my right palm, which still has a small bandage on it after my last encounter with Ethan.
His derisive snort pulls me back into the present, “Really? That’s what he chose? How included did you feel?”
I roll my eyes at the memory of Gina ordering me around, “Basically, I was Gina's slave all week. She seemed to thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.”
He bites down on his bottom lip, fighting back a smile, “And you? Did you enjoy it?”
“I don't know why anyone would volunteer for this gig.”
“These dance committees are filled with sick, twisted souls,” he deadpans.
“I guess it wasn't completely awful. Seeing everything come together was kinda amazing. Not too shabby for a crappy school dance.”
“Yeah, it looks great in there. I barely recognized the gym, except for the painted lines on the floorboards. And all the letterman's jackets.”
An unexpected giggle escapes my lips as I picture Ethan’s table, “Yeah, your suit is a bit out of place among the sea of jocks.”
Sighing, he runs a hand through his unruly chestnut hair. “I actually haven't been to many school dances. I thought the suit was requisite. Especially with the huge stink everyone was making about this dance.”
I resist the urge to reach out and touch his hair. I look away, my eyes trying desperately to find something to focus on beside the beautiful boy sitting in front of me. “I'm sure every girl in that room would prefer to be on your arm in that suit that one of those guys in their jock formal wear for special occasions.”
“Why are you sitting out in the cold by yourself, Fallon?”
With Ethan, I always say more than I mean to, revealing too much. I’m out here because I can’t concentrate with him around. When I can’t concentrate, I’m not in control. I feel very out of my element and it scares me. Using his words from the first time we spoke, I reply “It's a bit overwhelming in there. First school dance of the year and all. Why are you out here?”
“Feeling a bit out of my comfort zone.”
“I’m at a school dance. I’m wearing a dress. I’d say I’m about a hundred and ten miles outside of my comfort zone. In fact, my comfort zone is in another township right now.”
Ethan laughs quietly at my reaction and leans in to whisper conspiratorially, “It’s actually my first Homecoming dance.”
“Good thing you’re here with Mackenzie. It’s not her first time at the rodeo. She is a shoe-in to be this year’s quee
n. I'm sure she can show you all the ropes.” I cringe as the words leave my lips. Yes, send him running back inside to Mackenzie’s waiting arms. Open mouth, insert foot.
He shrugs, “I'm just here as part of the group. I told her I only wanted to go as friends.”
Bitterness leaks into my voice as I mutter under my breath, “You don't know Mackenzie.”
“Yeah, she does tend to lay it on thick...” Ethan drifts off mid-thought, studying his folded hands. After a moment, he looks directly at me and his voice is quiet and tense, “Why have you been avoiding me, Fallon?”
The intensity of his gaze is paralyzing and my eyes are locked on his as my thoughts scatter. I can’t look away to gather my wits and I can’t formulate a proper excuse so I tell him the truth, “You make me feel... conflicted.”
His brow furrows, like he doesn’t comprehend my answer, “Conflicted? What’s there to be conflicted about?”
With great effort, I pull my eyes away from his stare and focus on my hands fidgeting in front of me on the table, “It’s complicated.”
“Feelings usually are. What’s complicated?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Do you have feelings for Sam?” he asks bluntly.
I look back up, surprised by his question, “What? No! Sam and I are just friends.”
Ethan’s shoulders seem to relax, “We don’t have to talk about it.”
I exhale a sigh of relief.
A shy smile spreads across his lips, “Do you want to dance?” His eyes are apprehensive as he waits for me to answer.
“Right now?” My hands are clammy and I suddenly feel very nervous. Well more nervous than I usually around Ethan. My years of failed ballet training have left me scarred.
He stands and steps out form behind the bench in a singular fluid movement and walks around the picnic table until he is directly next to me. His eyes are twinkling mischievously, a full on grin stretched across his lips, “Come on, dance with me. Please, Fallon.” His blue eyes are pleading with me and I am faltering.
“I...We’re... There's no music,” I stammer.
“We'll dance to the sounds of the night. C’mon, Fallon don’t be shy. No one's watching.” He looks so earnest, I don’t know how to respond.
Gnawing on my bottom lip anxiously, I hesitate, “I don't know...”
Ethan stretches his hand out for me to take and all I can do is stare at his open palm, “No more excuses.”
Trepidatiously, I give him my hand and allow him to pull me off the bench. My heartbeat is thudding in my ears, “I can't promise I won't crush your toes. These are steel toed boots.”
Ethan rolls his eyes, “I've survived worse.”
Effortlessly, he pulls me toward him until the lines of our body come together. I can’t help my gasp as our bodies meet. He feels so warm, I just want to sink into his arms but instead I gingerly place my hands on his broad shoulders. He places his hands on the small of my back underneath my leather jacket. I feel a shiver go through my body that has nothing to do with the cold.
We sway slowly to the sound of chirping crickets and leaves scuttling across the ground. After a moment of swaying, he pulls me closer until my cheek is resting against his chest. He smells wonderful--clean and woodsy with a hint of musk. I feel quite small next to him, the top of my head grazing his chin as we move in a small circle.
His lips move against my hair, sending a tremble down my spine, “How come you don’t like me, Fallon?”
My throat is dry and my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, “I like you as a friend, Ethan.” Even I hear the doubt in my voice. I wish I could think of a witty, playful reply but as always, he has caught me off guard.
“I can be your friend if that’s what you need.”
“Thank you. You’re a better friend than I deserve.”
“Why do you think that?”
Through the soft fabric of the dress I can feel his fingers tracing along my spine and it is very distracting, “I don’t know. I just do.”
“How come you never say what’s actually on your mind?”
I’m surprised. Here I thought I tended to say too much around Ethan, “What do you mean?”
“You’re always so... evasive. I can never tell what you’re really thinking.”
I am always so evasive because I didn’t want anyone getting too close. Pressed against him in the darkness where he can’t see my expression, I confess against his chest, “I don’t know how to be your friend, Ethan. I’ve gotten used to keeping to myself.”
Ethan leans down, his artfully disheveled hair brushing against my cheek. His lips against my ear, the longing in his voice is evident, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, Fallon?
My heartbeat picks up double time and the power of speech escapes me. His phone buzzes from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. The vibration against my body brings me crashing back to reality.
Stepping back, I pull away from his hold. My eyes fixed resolutely to the ground, I stammer, “I need to... I have to... I should go back in. I have to man my station. And your friends are waiting.”
He steps forward, reaching for me, “Wait, I’m not ready to go back in yet.”
“I... I have to go. Mackenzie is probably looking for you. I’ll see you around. Have fun tonight, Ethan.”
Ethan
There she goes, running away from me again. Definitely a world record now. My phone buzzes again in quick succession. I give Fallon a head start back into the dance so she won’t be too scandalized. Sighing, I sit back down at one of the picnic tables.
I don’t really want to go back in yet so I pull my phone out of my pocket and check my messages.
Mackenzie: Ethan, u said u would BRB...
I delete the three other texts from Mackenzie without reading them.
Sam: Ur date is driving me nuts. She is FREAKIN OUT!!
Liam: Mackenzie sent sam & i to look 4 u. She is annoying the crap outta me.
Sam: Fallon is gone 2. Pls tell me u r in the bathrm and not with her.
Liam: She is abt to kill u. The girls r trolling the hallways looking 4 u. Where r u???
Sam: Just got back 4m the bathrm & saw fallon sneaking back into the dance. I can only cover 4 so long. Mackenzie is ready to kill u btw. U SO OWE ME.
Without replying to any of their text messages, I tuck my phone away inside my breast pocket. I sit for a moment longer and as my phone buzzes against my chest, I contemplate whether I should even return. I don’t have the energy to face off with Mackenzie and I don’t fancy seeing Fallon after she ran off on me. Again.
I rub my face with my hands, feeling the stubble that’s starting to grow back in. Fallon confuses me like no girl I have ever known. At the same time, she fascinates me endlessly. She’s beautiful, smart, talented, and more closed off than North Korea. My phone buzzes again shaking me out of my daze. Sam and Liam will probably want to kill me themselves if I don’t head back in.
I stand back up and look out at the moonlit forest one last time before slipping back inside. My phone buzzes several more times as I make my way down the empty hallway toward the gymnasium. The second I reach the table, Sam and Liam shoot me matching evil eyes as Mackenzie gives me a tight, annoyed smile.
“Ethan, we were all looking for you,” her smile is plastered so tautly across her face, I’m surprised she can speak.
I shrug unapologetically and pull out the empty chair next to Mackenzie and sit down, “Sorry, I was outside for a minute. Needed some fresh air.”
Mackenzie opens her mouth like she’s about to say something but thinks better of it, pressing her glossy lips into a tight line. She relaxes microscopically and the table resumes their chatter. Every time I shift in my chair, her eyes dart not letting me out of her sight. When I stand up to stretch my legs and survey the room, I can feel her watchful eyes boring into my back.
Fallon is sitting next to the punch bowl, leaning forward so her elbows rest on her knees. Her chi
n is resting on the back of her clasped hands as she stares out the solitary window next to the refreshments table. Her long hair is a dark curtain swept over her shoulder and I cannot see her face. She looks so lonely.
I will her to turn and look at me but she continues to be lost in her own world. Feeling resigned, I sit back down. I feel lonely despite the large group at my table, their chatter is just white noise to my distracted brain. Slowly, the guys are pulled one by one onto the dance floor by their dates. Mackenzie and her friends are dressed more for sitting and looking pretty than dancing.
After a few songs pass, Mackenzie is too busy making mean comments about other girls with her friends to pay me any notice. Her voice is dripping acid, “Oh my God, who wears tulle to Homecoming? Pink tulle? Are we in kindergarten?”
Chloe chimes in, “Those curls are not working for her face shape. She’s so round already! It looks like she’s melting.”
“Those shoes were a terrible idea. They emphasize her cankles,” Sophia adds.
Emma is doubled over in laughter when she throws in her two cents, “Is she color blind? That lipstick makes her teeth look even more yellow.”
“Maybe she cracked all the mirrors in her house,” Mackenzie can barely contain herself and they all dissolve into vicious giggles.
I am tapping my foot along to an upbeat song that is fading out when a familiar song starts up. I know this band. My brother had sent me a link to their page a few months ago. Mackenzie is too busy locating her next victim that she doesn’t notice when I get out of my chair.
Fallon is still staring out the window, probably planning her escape route. I bend at the waist, until my lips are next to her ear, “I love this song. Will you dance with me, Fallon?”
The sound of my voice in her ear startles her and she swivels around so quickly in her chair, it starts tipping over. Reflexively, I reach out and grab the back of the chair, steadying her. Her green eyes are round with surprise and maybe a touch of fear. I drop my hand from the back of the chair and stand back, proffering my hand.