“Can the both of you step about half a step to your right?” Her impatient voice matches the awkward tensions surrounding us. I get a few curious glances from Josh and Mina, wondering what the holdup is. And I get another glance, this one much more narrowed and concerned, from James.
Teeny and I follow suit, using the positions of the other bridesmaids and groomsmen as our guide, and discipline ourselves like young children in a classroom: with a lot of effort and small slip-ups of stolen smiles.
This feeling, the covertness of our smiles and whispers, the moments hidden beneath the surface where we think no one can see, feels like we’re kids again. Like we’re sitting in the library, our elbows brushing up against each other and our pencils scribbling notes across a shared table while we talk in voices barely above a whisper.
* * *
I feel high. Off champagne, cake, and life. I feel like I’m floating on a big fluffy cloud, the shimmery glow of candlelight creating a halo effect on everyone. And then there’s Teeny. She has the same glow as everyone, made brighter with her smile and laughter, and she looks like an angel, flitting around like a dream.
I’ve been keeping my distance, though it hasn’t stopped me from catching glimpses of her throughout the night. As she showers Sadie with praise for her performance. As she embraces her family members, her grandparents especially, over glasses of wine and the delicious four-course meal. As she too steals glances at me from across the room with consciously aware looks and shy smiles.
After the three-tier cake has been cut and the wedding music has transitioned into something less raucous and more placid and tender, I find Teeny.
“Could I trouble you for a dance?”
She’d been sharing a laugh with Grace, who she looks at as if requesting permission, which Grace grants with a subtle nod.
“Make sure to have her back by midnight,” she says as Teeny takes my hand.
I smile gratefully at Grace, appreciative of her approval as Teeny’s friend and someone who’ll always have her best interest. “Yes, ma’am.”
Teeny giggles as I lead her to the dance floor. It’s fairly empty, those who’d been involved in a vigorous “Cha Cha Slide” dance now taking a breather, and it feels serene with Teeny’s hand loosely gripped in mine and my hand pressed to her back.
“She must like you,” she says, a smile dancing on her lips. “I thought you’d have to fight her before she let me go.”
“I’m easy to like,” I tell her, ducking my head so my words brush over the shell of her ear.
“Debatable.” I give a small pinch to her waist, and she squirms in my arms. It’s fluid, how she moves with me. How she turns her face at the same time I bring our joined hands to the small space between us. My thumb runs lazy strokes over her wrist, feeling the slow steady thumps of her heartbeat. “You know this is the first time I’ve danced with you.”
“No,” I argue, a rise of perplexity causing my brow to furrow.
She nods, a smug look of incontrovertibility on her face. “Prom wasn’t really what I thought it was going to be.”
My heart falls, realizing all the moments I missed out on because I wasn’t there to be a part of them. “Would it make it any better if I tell you…I had some pretty big plans for your first prom?”
“Did you?” she asks, skepticism written all over her face in the way her brow shoots up and her smile turns cheeky.
“I did.”
“Well, tell me, Hayes. What were these plans?”
“A limo.”
“That’s a good start.”
My forehead meets hers. “Dinner at a fancy restaurant.”
“With dessert? Something of the chocolate variety?”
“Of course.”
Her eyes close and a shallow exhale slips through her lips. “What else?”
“A hotel room,” I add softly, boldly heading into territory that needs to be tread cautiously.
“Yeah?”
“Mh-hmm.”
