said, looking into his eyes, then looking away, feeling like a spy. I couldn't hold my gaze for long because I thought my knees would give out. "Just like you do."
"Yeah, but who are you listening to?"
I nodded toward my mother dancing with Perry.
He pulled me closer.
Just then, it really did feel as though my whole body was made for him to hold.
My mother and Perry danced to "Fever" until someone turned it off because the lyrics and the way Peggy Lee said them were supposedly improper, which was good, because now maybe my mother and Perry would quit dancing.
We had all agreed to leave from the school. Stone offered Perry a ride back home, and we all laughed or tried to laugh at the strange arrangement. I was to leave with my mother even though Stone offered again to drive me home.
"That was the agreement, remember?" she said in the parking lot. "Sam, I'll be over here by the car."
Stone faced me and put both his hands on my shoulders. "I had a great time, Samantha."
"Me too," I said.
We started to lean in to kiss.
"Sam!" my mother called.
***
My mother and I drove back home in her old beige VW Bug, our faces filling with light from time to time as a car passed from the opposite direction. My mother's car was littered with lecture notes, books, empty coffee cups, and stray pencils and pens, and it still smelled of the suntan lotion I spilled on the floor last summer.
"I haven't danced since, well, since your father was alive," she said.
"He's not your boyfriend," I said. "Perry can't be your boyfriend."
I waited, but she didn't say anything. And that's when I knew. He
was
her boyfriend, and I wanted to throw up.
She turned on the car radio. She liked the new song playing, and she turned it up. "
Louie Louie,
" she sang. "
Aww. We gotta go now.
"
We heard the sirens first. Then came the flashing lights.
"Stay calm," my mother said, looking in the rearview mirror, slowing down, and then pulling over to the side of the road. "I'll handle this." She turned off the radio. My mother hadn't done anything wrong driving that I could tell. She was a good driver. My grandmother was the bad driver in the family, but she never got stopped because everybody in the state seemed to know her.
"Evening, miss," the officer said. "You know how fast you were going?"
"I'm not sure."
"You were going forty in a fifty-mile-an-hour zone. You were going under the speed limit, which is just as serious as going over."
My mother and I looked at each other.
"I'm so sorry," my mother said. Her voice sounded shaky. Just that week we had heard that two black men had been arrested for no cause, then taken to the basement of the police station and beaten.
"We've just come from my daughter's high school dance."
The officer shined his flashlight in my face, then he moved the light all over us.
"You look like a nice lady," he said then to my mother. "How come you're wearing those clothes?"
I think we thought he was kidding. The question startled us so that we both said "Ha" without knowing or thinking about what we had just done. And it was the worst possible thing we could have done. We laughed. And then we laughed not once, but twice.
We both realized exactly what we had done when we saw the policeman's face. My mother gripped the steering wheel and froze. He reached in and took her car keys, then opened the door and took her by the arm. I held on to her other arm. We were both pulling, while she had hold of the steering wheel.
"Miss. You're under arrest."
"For what?"
"Tell your girl to let go."
"Let go, Sam," she said. "I'm all right. We're all right. This is a nice police officer. He's a gentleman. He's not here to do us harm." She was saying these things to convince herself or the policeman, not me. I saw that her hands were shaking.
"Mom?"
Already he had taken her out of the car. He was handcuffing my mother, while she leaned against the car.
"What about my daughter?"
He looked in, and it was like he was just remembering
"Yeah, but who are you listening to?"
I nodded toward my mother dancing with Perry.
He pulled me closer.
Just then, it really did feel as though my whole body was made for him to hold.
My mother and Perry danced to "Fever" until someone turned it off because the lyrics and the way Peggy Lee said them were supposedly improper, which was good, because now maybe my mother and Perry would quit dancing.
We had all agreed to leave from the school. Stone offered Perry a ride back home, and we all laughed or tried to laugh at the strange arrangement. I was to leave with my mother even though Stone offered again to drive me home.
"That was the agreement, remember?" she said in the parking lot. "Sam, I'll be over here by the car."
Stone faced me and put both his hands on my shoulders. "I had a great time, Samantha."
"Me too," I said.
We started to lean in to kiss.
"Sam!" my mother called.
***
My mother and I drove back home in her old beige VW Bug, our faces filling with light from time to time as a car passed from the opposite direction. My mother's car was littered with lecture notes, books, empty coffee cups, and stray pencils and pens, and it still smelled of the suntan lotion I spilled on the floor last summer.
"I haven't danced since, well, since your father was alive," she said.
"He's not your boyfriend," I said. "Perry can't be your boyfriend."
I waited, but she didn't say anything. And that's when I knew. He
was
her boyfriend, and I wanted to throw up.
She turned on the car radio. She liked the new song playing, and she turned it up. "
Louie Louie,
" she sang. "
Aww. We gotta go now.
"
We heard the sirens first. Then came the flashing lights.
"Stay calm," my mother said, looking in the rearview mirror, slowing down, and then pulling over to the side of the road. "I'll handle this." She turned off the radio. My mother hadn't done anything wrong driving that I could tell. She was a good driver. My grandmother was the bad driver in the family, but she never got stopped because everybody in the state seemed to know her.
"Evening, miss," the officer said. "You know how fast you were going?"
"I'm not sure."
"You were going forty in a fifty-mile-an-hour zone. You were going under the speed limit, which is just as serious as going over."
My mother and I looked at each other.
"I'm so sorry," my mother said. Her voice sounded shaky. Just that week we had heard that two black men had been arrested for no cause, then taken to the basement of the police station and beaten.
"We've just come from my daughter's high school dance."
The officer shined his flashlight in my face, then he moved the light all over us.
"You look like a nice lady," he said then to my mother. "How come you're wearing those clothes?"
I think we thought he was kidding. The question startled us so that we both said "Ha" without knowing or thinking about what we had just done. And it was the worst possible thing we could have done. We laughed. And then we laughed not once, but twice.
We both realized exactly what we had done when we saw the policeman's face. My mother gripped the steering wheel and froze. He reached in and took her car keys, then opened the door and took her by the arm. I held on to her other arm. We were both pulling, while she had hold of the steering wheel.
"Miss. You're under arrest."
"For what?"
"Tell your girl to let go."
"Let go, Sam," she said. "I'm all right. We're all right. This is a nice police officer. He's a gentleman. He's not here to do us harm." She was saying these things to convince herself or the policeman, not me. I saw that her hands were shaking.
"Mom?"
Already he had taken her out of the car. He was handcuffing my mother, while she leaned against the car.
"What about my daughter?"
He looked in, and it was like he was just remembering
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