aikaterine

I stood silently, a tribute to all the other wallflowers that attached themselves to the off-white walls of our gym.
Right now, however, the basketballs had disappeared. The volleyball nets bundled into the boys' locker rooms and soccer balls in a small heap by the gym office. Occasionally one would roll out of place, and a well-meaning chaperone would run in haste and quickly adjust the setting.

Pastel streamers hung around a skinny DJ with dark sunglasses and clothes around five sizes too large for him, blasting out music we'd never heard of. I'm sure he didn't care. He had that bored look on his face as he systematically changed CDs.

So I sat in the corner, hands clasped over my faded blue jeans, staring miserably at the floor.

SHE was dancing with HIM.

There are always moments in someone's lifetime when things are at their worst and seem to worsen at a gradual rate. I felt that this was one of them. I could feel everything crumbling, so I held myself together as tightly as I could.

By she, I mean my second-bestfriend. By him, I mean the boy that I had become obsessed with.

I'm not so sure that love would be the correct term. This was something more insane, and more desperate. With minimal emotion and maximum action, I sat behind him whenever possible in our classes and gracefully allowed him to dodge past me whenever we played soccer or hockey.

"For every pretty, popular girl, there has to be a plain, average friend."

She could have anyone. I'm not exaggerating when I say that. She could have anyone and she'd chosen the one that I adored. She knew. I had called her that night, bubbling with anticipation.

And now she had gone and taken that from me.

The song ended and the couples broke up. I stood and, gathering my courage, walked over to him. Tapping him on the shoulder, I asked if he'd like to dance.

He turned to look at her -- she was smiling at him so hard it could have drilled holes in his head -- and slowly turned back to me. Told me he was already dancing with someone. I bit my lip, smiled, and walked away.

+ + +

We were on a bus, heading home from a skiing trip. I had candy in my pocket which I was slowly consuming. He sat behind me, and as the bustle of the world around us ceased to exist, we talked.

About her, of course.

He, rambling about her virtues, and I, nodding and eating my Skittles.

There was a moment of silence, which he broke.

"I was crazy about you, you know." He sighed, and turned around to look at her. "Was crazy."

I finished my Skittles, and the world became evident again.

+ + +

For once, I don't hesitate before walking through the doors.

I smooth my dress, check how I look in my mirror, and continue walking.

Tonight's agenda is dinner and dancing with the people I had avoided for the past few years. I clutch my handbag, smile gracefully at a few strangers, and sit down at a table.

She grabs my arm and tells me she's glad I made it. With an almost arrogant persistence she drags me over to the table where familiar faces sit and talk.

There's a long moment of silence when I am introduced ... then I laugh and walk away. Voices follow ... I recognize his. I sit down and resume my dinner.

An hour later, he comes up to me and begins talking. I tell him how he hasn't changed. He's silent before asking if I'm with someone. I smile and say yes.

He asks me to dance anyway.

I accept.