Page 36 of The Way We Swing

Now she sat next to me, legs crossed, while music thumped across the gym floor. Her ponytail swayed every time she turned to say something, blonde hair flicking against the pale blue straps of her dress. It didn’t match perfectly, but it looked nice on her. She wore it like she wanted to feel pretty.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. A little rounder than the girls in most of the Instagram pics, but I’d overheard Zach and Ricky calling her “secret hot.” Whatever that meant.

I’d tried to make it clear when I’d asked her that it was as a friend. Just for fun. She’d nodded and smiled like she’d understood. But tonight, I wasn’t so sure.

She had met me at our house, where we’d taken pictures with Zach, Easton, and Ricky. Erin stood in front of me while Easton bumped my left shoulder. His navy tie flapped in the wind and showed brightly against his white dress shirt. That citrus smell had inflamed my poor nostrils.

At dinner, I’d paid like a gentleman. Erin had laughed at all the right moments. Still, it had felt like I was watching myself from a few feet away, mouthing lines I’d memorized.

“They’re about to play a slow song,” Erin said.

I fiddled with my boutonniere, tugging at the pin. “Yeah, sounds like it.”

Silence.Shit.

“Do you want to dance?” I said, turning toward her.

“Yeah,” she smiled, already standing.

Her hand brushed mine as we made our way to the floor. I heard Ricky’s voice in the distance somewhere but blocked it out, knowing it wasn’t directed at me or, if it was, that I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

The lights were low, and the music slowed. I slid my hands to Erin’s waist, hesitating for half a second. Too close, and she’d think I wanted more. Too far, and I’d seem like a jerk. Or gay. I settled on six inches—enough space to breathe, not enough to question.

We rocked in place. My fingers were loose on her body; I wasn’t sure if I even pressed hard enough to leave a validfingerprint. Still, she smiled up at me. I smiled back, but I felt like I was borrowing it from someone else.

Across the floor, Zach danced with his girlfriend, his hands at her lower back. They’d been dating since August. His head tipped down, hers tilted up. Easy.

I spun my head toward the right. Maddux—red hair clashing with his date’s yellow dress—was close as well. I wasn’t even sure he’d known her name last week.

“Tanner,” Erin said, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Just checking everything out.” I looked back at Erin. This really wasn’t fair to her.

She nodded. Maybe she believed me, maybe not. As I looked down at her, I kept thinking how sweet she was, how she deserved someone who wasn’t measuring the space between them like it was a math problem.

But I stayed. Because it was what was expected. Practical and safe. No emotions.

We danced through the song. Through another one. Through the next hour. My ears throbbed from the bass, and my toes ached in my tight rented shoes, but I kept the rhythm going as the smell of a hundred girls’ perfumes and a hundred guys’ colognes combined in a disgusting mix of mist.

Pretending was easier when no one was watching too closely.

Mercifully, it ended.

I drove Erin to her house; I hadn’t invited her to Silas’s after party, and, thankfully, she hadn’t invited herself, as I wasn’t sure I had the mental energy left to be nice when I told her no.

The engine purred as I parked in her driveway. Zach and Easton sat in the back seat, their dates still laughing about something. I got out, circled the car, and opened Erin’s door. Always a part to play.

The porch light cast a warm glow over the sidewalk as we strolled to the door. An American flag hung limply from the post, shifting with the breeze.

“I had fun tonight,” she said.

Her words hung in the air. I knew the ending she expected.

“Me too,” I said.

She stepped closer and kissed my cheek, then stayed inches away, her eyes searching mine. I felt the wetness on my face but didn’t wipe it away, my hands flexing in my pockets.

I could feel them behind me, the guys in the car, watching—waiting to see what I’d do. So, I reached up, held her face, and pressed my lips to hers. She kissed back, softly at first, then her tongue slipped into my mouth.