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Dancing Fools
“What do you think?” The Mouse asks shyly, dipping her finger into a pot of gloss and dabbing it onto her lips.
“He’s adorable, Mouse. He really is.”
The Mouse has finally made good on her promise to introduce us to her mysterious Washington boyfriend, Danny Chai, and has brought him to the dance. He’s a tall, delicate boy with black hair, glasses, and lovely manners, who found a place for our coats and got us two glasses of punch, to which he cleverly added vodka from a flask hidden in his jacket pocket. I’ve never seen The Mouse insecure, but she keeps dragging me to the bathroom, checking to make sure her hair is still in place and her shirt is properly tucked into her jeans.
“And it’s adorable that you’re wearing lip gloss,” I add teasingly.
“Is it too much?” she asks in alarm.
“No. It looks great. It’s just that I’ve never seen you wear lip gloss before.”
She looks in the mirror, considering. “Maybe I should take it off. I don’t want him to think I’m trying too hard.”
“Mouse, he’s not going to think you’re trying too hard. All he’s going to think is that you’re beautiful.”
“Carrie,” she whispers, like a little kid with a secret. “I think I really, really like him. I think he could be the one.”
“That’s fantastic.” I give her a hug. “You deserve someone great.”
“So do you, Bradley.” She hesitates. “What about Sebastian?” she asks casually.
I shrug, pretending to search for something in my bag. How can I explain? I’m crazy about Sebastian in a way that feels overwhelming and amazing and disturbing and probably unhealthy. And at first, being with Sebastian was like being in the middle of the best dream I’d ever had—but now it mostly feels exhausting. I’m up one minute and down the next, questioning what I say and do. Even questioning my sanity.
“Bradley?”
“I don’t know,” I say, thinking about how Lali and Sebastian were laughing about how Donna LaDonna and the two Jens stole my clothes. “Sometimes I think—”
“What?” The Mouse asks sharply.
I shake my head. I can’t do it. I can’t tell The Mouse that sometimes I think my boyfriend likes my best friend better than me. It’s too paranoid and creepy.
“I think Lali needs a boyfriend,” The Mouse say
s. “Doesn’t Sebastian have a friend he could fix her up with?”
There’s my solution. If Lali had a boyfriend, she’d be too preoccupied with him to keep tagging along with me and Sebastian. And it’s not like I ever discouraged her from hanging out with us. I guess I feel a little guilty that I have a boyfriend and she doesn’t. I don’t want her to feel abandoned. I don’t want to be one of those girls who forgets about her friends as soon as some guy comes along.
“I’ll work on it,” I say, feeling some of my old confidence coming back.
But it’s immediately deflated when I pull open the door to the gym. Disco music is blaring from the speakers, and I spot the top of Sebastian’s head, bobbing and weaving as the crowd hoots and claps. He’s doing the Hustle, but with whom? My throat tightens. I figure he’s dancing with Lali, but then Lali comes up and grabs my arm.
“I think you need a drink.”
“I have a drink,” I say, indicating my vodka-laced punch.
“You need another one.”
I wriggle away toward the crowd. “Bradley! You don’t want to see this.” Lali sounds alarmed as I push my way to the center.
Sebastian is dancing with Donna LaDonna.
I’m immediately overcome by a desire to storm up to him and throw my drink in his face. I can picture it, my hand shooting forward, sloshing the sticky sweet liquid all over his pale skin, his shocked expression followed by frantic pawing. But Lali stops me.
“Don’t do it, Bradley. Don’t give them the satisfaction.” She spins around and spots The Mouse and Danny. The Mouse is whispering angrily into Danny’s ear, no doubt explaining the horror of the situation.
“Excuse me,” Lali says, inserting herself between them. “Do you mind if we borrow your boyfriend?”
