Original - A Dance to Remember: Part I
"Do you want to dance…?"
Well, the question was awkward for the question was directed at me. Actually, it was entirely awkward, but I knew it was just for old time’s sake. It was a mere gesture; there was no reason behind it. Chester was not mine anymore; he was just being nice, after all. I, Mariel Dela Rosa, showed up to our school’s homecoming without a date. Yeah, Chester’s new girl, Kira did say that I was able to get a date with my looks, but no one asked me at all.
Chester was the only person who asked me to dance. But he wasn’t the first I danced with. He was still at least a head taller than me (even though I was wearing three inch heels). He was donned in a long-sleeved shirt, a blue tie and slacks. His chestnut hair was perfect even as it fell over his hazel eyes. Dammit, Chester; I hate you for looking the way you do.
A feeling of nostalgia arises up within me. I know what it is; I felt it a long time ago. My voice gets caught in my throat and I can’t speak for a second. My best friend, Bobby, is watching me curiously, waiting for my next move. Bobby had known about my trouble trying to get over Chester; he became my only confidante. Before, that person had been Kira…until Chester started crushing on her and those feelings appeared mutual.
You can only guess how that broke my heart again. Kira was the one I looked up to; the one I trusted to help me; and the one he wanted after me. I hid this feeling by laughter at the idea when Chester brought it up long ago. My laughter was hollow to Bobby’s ears and mine; everyone else could not detect it.
Once more, I donned my liar’s face and slightly moved away from my ex. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be in this situation. I guess I should expect the unexpected more. My mouth opened and my practiced lie came out: "Kira would be mad at me if I did, even if we were just dancing as friends."
I didn’t want to cause any shit between myself and Chester’s new girl. I don’t think I could take it if Chester turned against me….even though he’s known me longer. He would pick her over me.
My gaze refused to meet his now. My hands were messing with the top of my yellow, strapless dress. I showed all signs of unease and my body tensed, as if I was about to run. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bobby move from the side and out of my peripheral vision; my friend wasn’t going to allow me to run away, this time.
Bobby wanted me to face this, even though it hurt. My flight responses needed to end, one way or another.
"Bros before hoes." My ex stated clearly.
"I’m not a guy." I mumbled monotonously. I swear he didn’t go by that philosophy when we were together. Pfft. Whatever, who cares now? What’s past is past.
Chester chuckled. "Same old, Mari. I told you you’d be fine."
If you only knew, jackass. This was getting so awkward, plus I was beginning to feel a glare being sent my way. It might have been Kira; only her glare could make me shiver when I had my reserve.
"Yeah…I’m okay." I lied with a straight face.
Bobby’s probably yelling at me right now. I know I was too. My heart was telling me one thing; my logic telling me another. My heart told me to just dance with him and see how it goes, while my logic said back away slowly. But that’s all I’ve ever known.
I want to change that, but I can’t bring my guard down yet. I raised an eyebrow at someone emerging with her posse --- Kira. I held my breath and wished I could stop breathing, but my wish was not granted. I heard a smooch and looked up to see Kira with her hands around my ex’s waist and his around hers.
I swear, wasn’t there an unspoken rule about how ex’s don’t generally date their ex’s best friends? I think it should have been a written rule. I exhale deeply and force myself to crack a smile. "Hello Kira."
"Mariel. I hope there’s no trouble here."
"Nope, none at all." Actually, you brought it all on. You with your B-cup bras, your better, taller figure. You with your sex kitten talk. Kira, you’re all talk.
I keep my mouth shut. I have to for now. I nod at their direction before turning away. My eyes dart all over the dimly-lit gym, looking for a specific person. I have to find Bobby. I need to find him.
I need to speak; I need to rant now.