lead me back to the dance.
I can only pray that I don't run into the Student Council … or if I do, that they don't recognize me.
Sounds like a long-shot, but … I'm tired of dressing in ugly hoodies and sneakers. For the first time in a long time, I feel pretty, and it has nothing to do with the makeup or the clothes. Maybe I'm actually starting to get my confidence back?
One can only hope.
When we walk in the door, the lights are low, the music soft, and the administrators are biting their nails trying to keep couples from dancing too close, or making out in dark corners. Pretty sure there are couples outside doing worse things, but it is what it is. Watching adults try to stem the flow of teenage hormones is hilarious.
Folks, it's a losing battle. Be honest, educate, and provide a safe place to talk. That's all you can do. Stop shaming us: if you give us the tools and the unconditional love, we can figure out the rest.
Dad doesn't notice me when I walk by. Like, maybe he would if we were to have a full-on conversation, but it does boost my confidence a bit, knowing that nobody will be able to immediately pick me out of the crowd.
I make my way over to the refreshments table, picking up a lavender cupcake with one of the fondant flowers on it. My brows go up when I realize it's the one with the broken petal. It's literally the last one of these cupcakes left on the tray. What sort of coincidence is that?
“Homemade,” a snarky voice says from behind me, and I spin around to find Ross staring at me, one hand on his hip, his eyes narrowed on me. I know right away that he's recognized me from across the room. What in the actual fuck? “Hello Chuck.”
“Are you like a wizard or something?” I murmur, leaning in close to him and praying he's not about to run off to bark a warning to his masters. I've already got one crazy psycho stalking me. A whole school full of potential weirdos on my ass? No thank you. “How did you know it was me?”
Ross sighs, and pushes his hair back with a special, little flourish.
“I sort of figured it out from moment one. Honestly, it's only because nobody expects it that they haven't noticed yet. I'm a gay man, Charlotte. I like boys. And you,” he waggles a pointed finger up and down in my direction, “are no boy.”
“Are you going to tell everyone?” I ask, because I know he hates me. He has since moment one.
Ross sighs and shakes his head, reaching out and plucking the cupcake from my fingers.
“I wasn't ready to be outed when my brother did it for me. I wouldn't do that to you. But if you want to keep your secret, stay away from Ranger. He's not stupid.”
“Pretty sure he's already starting to suspect,” I murmur, noticing his dark head working through the crowd toward us. “Gotta go.” I move away, pushing between slow-dancing couples toward the front door where the crowd's a bit thinner.
Unfortunately, Spencer is there, leaning against the wall and slowly swaying to the music with his eyes closed. Just as I'm about to make a run for it, he snaps them open and locks those turquoise irises on me.
“Do I know you?” he asks, his voice dreamy and far away. “They'll be drunk and stoned by the time we get back to the party anyway.” Selena's words ring in my mind, and I pause, putting on a sultry smile. Pretty sure I've never given this smile out at Adamson; it'll help disguise me.
“No, but my cousin does,” I say, moving a step toward him. He has his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his muscular body slouched against the wall. He squints at me, but I stand there like I have nothing to hide, chest out, chin up. “You might know him? Chuck Carson?”
Spencer's eyes get even wider, and he pushes off the wall to move toward me.
He really is beautiful, his charcoal colored hair shimmering silver under the low lights, turquoise eyes glittering a blue-green brilliance that makes my breath catch in my chest.
“Do you know where Chuck is? I was going to ask him to dance.” Spencer throws his arm out to indicate the room, and I smile as he refocuses back on me, blinking furiously. Pretty sure he's a