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And before poor Danny can protest, Lali takes his arm and leads him onto the dance floor, grabbing my wrist in the process. We sandwich Danny between us, shimmying up and down his legs, spinning him around, and generally causing the sort of mayhem that results in Danny’s glasses flying off his face. Poor Danny. Unfortunately, I can’t really worry about him because I’m too busy trying to ignore Sebastian and Donna LaDonna.
Our antics get the crowd’s attention, and as Lali and I do-si-do Danny across the floor, Donna LaDonna retreats to the edge, sporting a tight smile. Suddenly, Sebastian is behind me, his hands around my waist. I twirl around and with my lips close to his ear, hiss, “Fuck you.”
“Huh?” He’s startled. Then amused, thinking I can’t be serious.
“I mean it. Fuck you.”
I can’t believe I just said that.
For a moment, I’m high on my anger, the buzz in my head drowning out all other sound. Then the impact of what I’ve said penetrates like a sting, and I’m horrified and embarrassed. I don’t think I’ve ever said “fuck you” to anyone, except maybe once or twice in passing, muttered under my breath, but never in a face-to-face confrontation. Those words, gigantic and ugly, sit between us like two enormous boulders, and now I can’t see my way around them.
It’s too late to say “I’m sorry.” And I don’t want to, because I’m not sorry. He was dancing with Donna LaDonna. In front of everyone.
It’s inexcusable, isn’t it?
His face is hard, his eyes narrowed, like a child who’s been caught out, whose first instinct is to deny any wrong-doing and blame his accuser.
“How could you?” I say, more shrilly than I intended, and loud enough for the small group of people around us to overhear.
“You’re crazy,” he says, and takes a step back.
I’m suddenly aware of ripples of movement through the crowd—nudging and nodding, faces curling into curious smiles. I’m frozen with indecision. If I move toward him he might push me away. If I walk away, it will probably be the end of our relationship.
“Sebastian—”
“What?” He sneers.
“Forget it.” And before he can say more, I storm off.
I’m immediately surrounded by my friends.
“What happened?”
“What did he say?”
“Why was he dancing with Donna LaDonna?”
“I’m going to beat the crap out of him.” That’s Lali.
“No. Don’t make it worse.”
“Are you going to break up with him?” Maggie asks.
“Does she have a choice?” Lali says.
I’m numb. “Was I wrong?” I turn to The Mouse.
“Not at all. He’s acting like a shit.”
“What should I do?”
“Don’t go up to him, no matter what you do,” Danny says, stepping in. “Ignore him. Let him come to you. Otherwise you look desperate.”
This Danny—he’s very wise. Even so, I can’t help scanning the gym for Sebastian.
He’s gone.
My heart freezes. “Maybe I should go home,” I say, full of uncertainty.
