" Two minutes into the dance, I'm sitting in a metal chair in the
dark, listening to a really annoying Justin Bieber song blaring
over the crackling speakers. The song changes. Everyone starts
to pair off. I look over at him. He's looking around. Please, Jesus
don't let him ask me to dance.
“Hey,” he says. “You wanna...”
“No,” I interrupt.
I catch him chuckling out of the corner of my eyes. This dance
is really stupid. I'm over it. Before I can finish my thought, he's
standing up. I look him over.
“Come on,” he says, tugging at my hand. “Lets get out of here. "
― , September, After Everything