4
Was it worth going
to?
Socially, I’m not
sure. Discovery-wise, it was pretty
illuminating.
My heart pounded. My head thrummed with the vibrations of the
music. It reminded me of dancing with
Lisa, and the vibratory hum I would get from holding her close.
We had fewer
records to play, thanks in part to Robert Pelley’s collision with them, losing
his temper at a dance last September, confronted by his boorish behavior towards
Lisa, the last dance Lisa would ever attend. But our DJ, Bob Short, our smooth-voiced
news announcer, the number one most trusted student at Loren High, just
a-dripping with maturity and confidence. No, The Bob had two bands to rely on
as well, Brassy Jazz and The Harlin Brothers (four guys none of whom were named
Harlin, nor were any of them brothers).
But there were
also records, one of which was playing when I noticed the hum. It was a song that I had danced to with
Lisa. Sum of My Love by The Wall
Nets. I don’t remember many of the words.
“You don’t have jut some of my love…you have the sum of my love.” I know.
Pop music is strange.
While the Wall
Nets played, I played being my new favorite, Wall Flower. I stood near the side wall of the cafetorium.
If things got tough, I could look through
the windows into the courtyard garden. Our agricultural had recently planted a
couple of fruit trees, an apple tree and a pear tree. Usually, those were more
of a Western Michigan thing, but they seemed to be thriving here, so, what the
hey. Again, we were grateful for Mr. Bruchow’s
large inventory of seeds. Mr. Bruchow
had proven to be our most valuable and practical teacher. Between my father’s Mr. Bruchow’s
agricultural knowledge and the discovery of the Farm, our food palate was increasing
in diversity every month.
I looked across
the dance floor. Ginny was dancing close
with Artie. They were affectionate, but
not overtly mauling each other. Artie
had long resisted school dances, but Ginny had finally broken his resistance
down. I won’t lie. I still felt a twinge
drawing me to her, but for the most part, I was happy to see them
together. There was so much heartache. It
was good to see two people in love.
Looking past them,
I saw Morgan near the opposite wall. My first reaction was surprise that she
wasn’t dancing. I knew that her beau was now behind bars, but I thought she was
the type that would still party.
Then, as I brought
her into focus, I could see the set of her face. She was glowering, staring right at me, her
eyes on fire.
Well, fine. Be upset with me all you want. It doesn’t change what your boyfriend did.
She could glower
all she wanted. I didn't have to look at
it. I averted my gaze to Bob Short, who was getting ready to put on another song. “Hey, Lookouts! What say we step it up a notch? Let’s go all out with Gina and the Giraffes,
and their powerful ballad, I Want Out of Here? “
That was a good
one, and a sentiment many in the Trap could identify with. I applauded, and
then I felt a presence right in front of me. I turned and saw it was. I was so
surprised, I took a half-step back, banging against the courtyard window.
“Dance with me,
Soap Boy.” It was Morgan, inches from my
face, still looking fierce.
What was this
about? Why would she want to dance with
me? Whatever her motivation, it couldn’t
be good.
“N-no!” I stuttered
out. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not gonna dance with you! I don’t want to be anywhere near you!”
She flashed a
smile that was more terrifying than her glower. “Tough tiggers, Principal’s kid. You don’t have a blanking choice,” She didn’t say blanking, That’s my substitute.
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