“You don't like the hair? I spent all of two minutes working on this hair.”
She reached up with both hands and tousled it. “I like the new Peter better.”
He nodded. “Have it your way.”
The music continued to bounce along. Students and even a few teachers
were milling around. It was now officially a party. “Peter, why did you do all this?”
“It was a fair amount of work, believe me. We had to save the decorations
from the dance last Saturday. I had to have Dale Schwarz convince the square dance club to practice tomorrow afternoon instead of today. Not all the students
could be here, mostly just the seniors.”
“No, I asked why did you do this?”
“You promised me a dance.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Well…then…you should have.”
She paused, looking around. “Yes. I should have,” she said.
He took her hand. “Wait a minute.” He paused as if listening for something,
still holding her hand. “Slow dance is coming,” he said finally.
She cocked her head. As if on cue, a syrupy keyboard started to play a ballad. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “It's an acquired skill. Guys learn to figure out when the slow
dance is coming. If there are three fast songs, then you ask the girl to dance on
the fourth. You do that dance without any pressure. It's a fast dance, right? Now, the DJ usually tries to mix things up, which means the fifth song is usually a slow dance. Then you look at the girl and go, 'Hey, wow, a slow dance. Since we're already out here…' ”
She nodded. “That's very scientific.”
“Thank you.”
“I'm not sure I meant that as a compliment.”
“Well, at this point, I'll take what I can get.”
She laughed. “Guys are that devious?”
“When it comes to beautiful girls, we are highly motivated. Besides, I paid
the DJ ten bucks to make sure all of our songs are slow dances.” He reached for
her waist.
She moved closer. The song continued. They began to rotate together under
the disco ball.
“You didn't have to do all this,” she said, gesturing with her head.
“I really, really wanted to.”
“Why?” Her heart thumped, waiting for the answer.
“Lucius told me a story.”
That wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. “Really?”
“It was about Kate the Monster.”
“Really.” She shot a glance at Lucius, who was with Carol by the punch bowl. He raised his glass at her, grinning.
“The monster part wasn't as important as the part about me being a spineless weasel and losing you forever.”
Losing me?
He drew her closer. His hand was warm and safe on her back. It carried her
along as they slowly moved around the wooden floor.
