tiptoes to talk to the bass player. His eyes drifted from her face to a point below her chin and he got that same bemused expression guys always had when they were getting a free show. Which meant he was no longer thinking with his brain, at least not the one in his head. Which meant, at this point, he’d do whatever she wanted.
Damn, this girl was good. Sometimes, I wished I could control people like that.
The bass player nodded at her, walked over to the lead singer, and whispered something in her ear. She smiled, winked down at Sofia, and said into the microphone, “Okay, you deadbeats, whaddya say we really get this dance going?”
There was a halfhearted cheer from the crowd, mostly coming from the group of designer jeans and stiletto-wearing, $500-phone-toting girls Sofia had already started to rule.
“We’re gonna snowball. One couple will start us off, nice and slow, and when we switch songs, they grab new partners. Girls ask the boys. Got it?”
Another cheer, and this time some of the guys joined in. Leave it to them to appreciate a situation where they didn’t even have to find the balls to ask a girl to dance. Even I thought it was an okay idea, until Sofia walked to the dance floor hand in hand with Brendan, and that weird burning started in my chest. And it only got worse when the first song the singer played was a slow song. A very slow song.
I watched as Brendan let his hands curve around her waist, right where the shirt bunched into her jeans. I thought my eyes might burn out of their sockets. His hands sat there for the first few seconds, his palms flat, but as the song went on, they talked and laughed even more. Sofia went from resting her wrists on Brendan’s shoulders to leaning her forearms there. Her face was just inches from his. The song swelled as it ended, and Sofia tossed back her head and laughed. Then she looked at Brendan with her eyebrows furrowed, and reached up and held some of the hair out of his face. He shook his head, letting his hair flop like normal back into his eyes. Just like I’d always liked it.
The singer finished crooning the closing notes of the song, then announced, “Okay, each one of our original couple, choose a new partner, and after that, it’s all girls!” Her tone was way too chipper and enthusiastic for something so incredibly stressful. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Brendan.
And then, he looked up at me, and mouthed, “Please?” while smiling that sheepish smile I couldn’t resist. I rolled my eyes and headed toward him, but I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face. Sofia’s eyes caught mine, and for a split second I could have sworn they shot poison at me. But then that smile, the impossibly peppy and unmovable one I’d seen since I hung out with her at Custard’s First Stand, took over, as she extended one perfectly manicured nail toward the captain of the lacrosse team—Rush, tall and muscled and definitely Julia’s boyfriend.
The interlude music was slow, and my heart jumped as I got closer to Brendan. He put one hand on my waist, but held out the other away from his body.
He wanted to dance with me like he’d dance with his mom. Or his sister. Or his best friend.
Just his best friend. Nothing more.
He smiled at me. That genuine, huge, heartwarming smile that made me feel right at home, even in the middle of this crazy, awkward, angsty dance floor, where girls were starting to pick new partners left and right, and dirty, territorial looks were a dime a dozen. Yeah, I felt right at home with Brendan, no matter what else was going on.
The only question was, why did I even still feel that way? Because the other thing I knew for sure was that his fingers didn’t curve into my waist like they had with Sofia’s. And he definitely wasn’t anywhere close to hugging my body to his.
With a couple dozen couples on the floor, the interlude ended, and the singer started a fast, wild number with loud drums and screaming horns. And
Damn, this girl was good. Sometimes, I wished I could control people like that.
The bass player nodded at her, walked over to the lead singer, and whispered something in her ear. She smiled, winked down at Sofia, and said into the microphone, “Okay, you deadbeats, whaddya say we really get this dance going?”
There was a halfhearted cheer from the crowd, mostly coming from the group of designer jeans and stiletto-wearing, $500-phone-toting girls Sofia had already started to rule.
“We’re gonna snowball. One couple will start us off, nice and slow, and when we switch songs, they grab new partners. Girls ask the boys. Got it?”
Another cheer, and this time some of the guys joined in. Leave it to them to appreciate a situation where they didn’t even have to find the balls to ask a girl to dance. Even I thought it was an okay idea, until Sofia walked to the dance floor hand in hand with Brendan, and that weird burning started in my chest. And it only got worse when the first song the singer played was a slow song. A very slow song.
I watched as Brendan let his hands curve around her waist, right where the shirt bunched into her jeans. I thought my eyes might burn out of their sockets. His hands sat there for the first few seconds, his palms flat, but as the song went on, they talked and laughed even more. Sofia went from resting her wrists on Brendan’s shoulders to leaning her forearms there. Her face was just inches from his. The song swelled as it ended, and Sofia tossed back her head and laughed. Then she looked at Brendan with her eyebrows furrowed, and reached up and held some of the hair out of his face. He shook his head, letting his hair flop like normal back into his eyes. Just like I’d always liked it.
The singer finished crooning the closing notes of the song, then announced, “Okay, each one of our original couple, choose a new partner, and after that, it’s all girls!” Her tone was way too chipper and enthusiastic for something so incredibly stressful. Still, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Brendan.
And then, he looked up at me, and mouthed, “Please?” while smiling that sheepish smile I couldn’t resist. I rolled my eyes and headed toward him, but I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face. Sofia’s eyes caught mine, and for a split second I could have sworn they shot poison at me. But then that smile, the impossibly peppy and unmovable one I’d seen since I hung out with her at Custard’s First Stand, took over, as she extended one perfectly manicured nail toward the captain of the lacrosse team—Rush, tall and muscled and definitely Julia’s boyfriend.
The interlude music was slow, and my heart jumped as I got closer to Brendan. He put one hand on my waist, but held out the other away from his body.
He wanted to dance with me like he’d dance with his mom. Or his sister. Or his best friend.
Just his best friend. Nothing more.
He smiled at me. That genuine, huge, heartwarming smile that made me feel right at home, even in the middle of this crazy, awkward, angsty dance floor, where girls were starting to pick new partners left and right, and dirty, territorial looks were a dime a dozen. Yeah, I felt right at home with Brendan, no matter what else was going on.
The only question was, why did I even still feel that way? Because the other thing I knew for sure was that his fingers didn’t curve into my waist like they had with Sofia’s. And he definitely wasn’t anywhere close to hugging my body to his.
With a couple dozen couples on the floor, the interlude ended, and the singer started a fast, wild number with loud drums and screaming horns. And
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