It is time. The most suspenseful part of any important dance arises. The last drums of one upbeat song fade, and suddenly softer, gentler music floats through the school gym. It is that fateful time to slowly sway with a guy, hopefully that you are head over heels in love with, to a slow dance.
My heart pounds and I look around for some unsuspecting guy I can snatch and move around with so it won’t appear that I actually don’t have a guy to dance with. The music is getting louder now as I watch Heather in what she loves to refer as her “perfect little black dress” grab Cameron and wrap her arms around his neck. Britney and Charlotte start dancing with the Nickelson twins, and Charissa and Patsy head quickly over to the refreshment area. I am abandoned on the dance floor and I start to go ask Jack, the guy I sit next to in English to dance when I feel a hand on my bare shoulder.
“Daria!” I turn around to face the guy that all of my friends and I have named Hottie who is in my floor hockey PE class.
“You want to dance?” I am completely stunned as I nod and smile and he places his hands around my waist. I feel like I am about to start floating through the room like the balloons floating above us. Warmth surrounds my body and I can feel his firm but gentle arms wrapped around me. Homecoming has never been so amazing! As I look into his deep brown eyes and he looks into mine I concentrate on the song so I that I won’t ever forget the moment and will have a story to squeal over with my friends later in my living room.
The song gets louder and I am picturing my friend’s shocked expressions as I inform them that I danced with Clarke Thomas to NSYNC “This I promise you.” I also wished that some news photographer would rush over to us and snap a quick shot so that I could have a picture to cut out of the newspaper to paste in my journal.
“Daria do you--”
His words are interrupted as I turn my head to look at the noisy couple next to us. A freshmen girl with long blonde hair and a periwinkle strapless dress is laughing quite loudly and stumbling as she dances with some other guy. As Clarke and I watch her, I realize she is obviously drunk as she continues to bump into her dancing partner and doesn’t look too focused.
“They are so annoying.” I hear Clarke say and as I turn to smile at him I almost bump into his face because he is so close to me. He smells faintly of cologne and I notice the light freckles across his nose.
“It’s just some drunk freshmen.” I laugh as we get closer.
“Yeah, my sister.”
“Oh.” I feel like crawling under one of the tables. I pray he didn’t take offense from that. I turn my head to look at his sister again. Just then my face burns, my hands sweat, and I realize that the guy she is dancing with is Jeff Waters! I instantly feel awkward and wish more than anything that I didn’t have to be slow dancing with another guy right next to him, even if it is Mr. Hottie.
“She’s probably going to start puking in the bathroom and I will have to leave you to go drive her home so my parents won’t find out and kill us both!”
“I hope not.” I smile and look into his eyes for a brief moment but as I turn my head I see Jeff jerk his gaze away from my direction.
“Me too.” Clarke smiles slyly and he pulls me towards him so that my cheek lies on his shoulder. My body is on fire and I would give anything to pull away from him as I feel Jeff’s eyes on us now. As we turn and I am facing them, I stare at the floor, not daring to look at him.
“Hey? Are you okay Cora? Cora?”
I glance up and realize that Clarke’s sister is pushing her way through the crowd looking incredibly uncomfortable. I feel Clarke pull himself away.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later, Daria.” He holds my hand for a moment reaches inside his breast pocket for one of the cards in his stack with his phone number on it, hands it to me, and then rushes towards his sister. I watch him disappear in the crowd and then, it hits me. Jeff and I are both standing completely partner less on the dance floor. What are the odds? I think of my options; walk away looking like a fool, dance by myself, (which is pretty difficult when it is a slow song), or ask Jeff to dance. I force myself to look at him and realize he is looking at me.
“Hey, ummm, we look kind of weird just standing here, huh?” He laughs I notice pretty nervously.
“Yeah.” I smile weakly and look around at all of the couples. We stand there for a few seconds, completely silent.
“Will you dance with me, Daria?” He puts his left right hand behind his tanned neck awkwardly.
“Sure.” I look down at Clarke’s phone number nervously, not knowing what to do with it.
“Here, I can put in my pocket if you want.” He looks at the card strangely and I instantly regret Clarke ever giving it to me. He shoves it into his pocket and moves closer to me. I am completely breathless as I smile and place my hands on his shoulders and I begin to slow dance with the guy I have been pining for all summer.
The feeling of being in his arms is indescribable, like a dream that I never want to wake up from. I can’t even hear the music anymore as he guides me across the dance floor. Our dancing becomes smooth and graceful so that we are gliding across the surface of a moonlit frozen lake, not merely stepping around the dusty wooden floor of the high school gym. We stop for a split second as he takes my arms in his warm hands and places them around his neck in place of where they were awkwardly resting on his shoulders. I smile dreamily and savor every step so that when the last notes of the music play, I’ll have something to live off for the rest of the weekend.
It is all too soon that the song ends and we stand there looking at each other, as everyone else goes back to dancing with their groups of friends. I wait for Jeff to say something, anything, because I am at a loss for words. I watch him reach into his pocket and pull out that embarrassing card from Clarke. He takes a pen and crosses off Clarke’s neatly typed phone number and name and replaces it with his own name, AOL screen name, and phone number. He hands me the card with a sly smile that will forever remain in my memory.
“Hotwaters17.” I read. I decide to not let him see my astonishment and joy at him finally giving me his screen name and phone number by playing it cool.
“Yeah. That was my nickname in Cali. Seventeen is my football number of course.” He says it like I would already know what exact number was on the back of his football jersey.
I look up at him. “What am I supposed to do with this? I give him a sassy smile and look him up and down in one quick glance.
“Daria, have you ever played monopoly?”
I am not prepared for such a turn around in the response. “Of course!” I laugh.
He looks at me and smiles mysteriously. “Well, just consider it your chance card.”
I look up to give him a puzzled smirk but he is already walking towards his group of guy friends and I can hear the squeals of my approaching girl friends that are talking about how wonderful the guy they just danced with was. As we make our way to the other side of the dance floor we all thoroughly agree that this by far has been the best homecoming ever!
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