Mom still hadn't arrived, and I was already running late to the dance. Every passing minute ate at my nerves. If I waited any longer, I would miss the dance altogether. I had no choice but to walk.
By the time I arrived at the school that evening, I had no idea what to expect. The parking lot was almost vacant, and there were no crowds around. I was beginning to think there wasn't a dance.
Then I heard it—faint at first, then growing clearer: the deep, pulsing thump-thump-thump of bass rolling through the concrete. The sound guided me like a heartbeat, pulling me toward the old basketball gym—The Pit.
Once through the doors, I was greeted by a series of descending stairs and old concrete tiered seating that led down into the court. Disco lights spun wildly across the walls, illuminating the stairs and their reflections catching on the dull varnish of the gym floor. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, perfume, and the haze from the fog machine.
The DJ's booth sat beneath the basketball goal, a shrine of flashing lights and thumping speakers. He bounced to the beat, spinning everything from Aaliyah to Xzibit—party anthems, dance mixes, even those same Hard House tracks from homecoming that blew me away.
From my vantage point on the concourse, I could see everyone there. Maybe fifty people total, all scattered across the court in little pockets of friends. They were laughing, shouting, moving like flickers of light.
As I made my way down the stairs to the court, I spotted my group. Betty, Teressa, Sadie, Dee, James, Chrissy, and some girl I didn't know crowded around Ryan, who became the center of attention.
His moves were all sharp edges and grace, perfectly timed to the beat. The crowd fed off his energy, cheering every spin and slide, a natural entertainer. If John Travolta himself stepped in for a dance-off, Ryan would've sent him back to the '70s in defeat.
I'm not going to lie, I was intimidated by his confidence. I took a seat on the stage and just watched as they all had fun, laughed, and let loose. But something was off.
Where the hell is Bear? I may have been late, but he should have been here by now. How am I supposed to be his wingman, his support, if he wasn't here?
And then the bigger question hit me like a gut punch:
Where the hell is CC?
The thought sank like a stone. My chest tightened, my throat caught, and for a second, the music drowned out into a muffled blur.
Did I just get stood up again?
That ugly, familiar pit opened up inside me, cold and hollow.
I tried to shake it off, but the spiral had already begun.
"Alfie!!!"
Teressa's voice snapped me out of my trance.
She and Sadie were heading toward me, weaving through the crowds with bright smiles. Teressa wore denim capris and a red top, her hair braided and fastened with butterfly clips that shimmered under the strobe lights. Sadie had her long, messy hair loose, rocking a striped crop top and baggy denim overalls, as if she'd walked straight out of a music video. They both looked effortlessly cute and playful.
"How long have you been sitting there?" Teressa asked.
"Umm…" I cleared my throat, doing my best to mask the emotional meltdown I'd just barely survived. "A few songs."
"A few songs?!" Sadie gasped dramatically, slamming her palms on the stage. "What are you waiting for? Come dance, you bum!"
"Yeah, come on!" Teressa tugged at my pant leg, feigning impatience.
I've seen this number before. This was that 'pick me' act they always did with Boss and Victor, and now I was experiencing it.
"No." I chuckled. "I don't know how to dance."
"Bullshit." Teressa instantly called my bluff. "I saw you at homecoming".
"Please!" Sadie begged, batting her lashes.
"Please, Please!" Teressa echoed.
They both hit me with the look. Those big, pleading eyes shining under the disco lights, the glitter on their cheeks sparkling like a trap set for moths.
I felt my defenses crumbling.
"Nope… must… resist…" I muttered, laughing nervously.
Too late.
They both grabbed my arms and started tugging, trying to pull me off the stage while I clung to the edge, laughing helplessly.
"Betty! Help!" Teressa called out through her giggles.
Betty appeared on the stage, striding over with that mischievous grin on her face. She was wearing a black top with red sleeves, jeans, and a red ribbon choker with a little silver heart—cute and simple.
My arms were being held, and my sides were completely open. Betty knew my weakness.
"Don't you—Ahh!" I burst into laughter, squirming around wildly as she poked and prodded at my sides mercilessly.
"Okay, Okay." I surrendered, flailing my arms like a toddler.
Just like that, the three dragged me out to the dance floor to join the rest of the group. I'm glad they did.
The air was alive with flashing lights, thudding bass, and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the old gym floor. Whatever gloom had been gripping me earlier evaporated into the rhythm.
Hours slipped by while we were being ridiculous, jumping around, spinning, shouting lyrics we half-knew, but for the first time that night, I didn't care about anything. I was living in the moment.
I was doing exactly what the song "Hotel California" says: "SOME DANCE TO REMEMBER, SOME DANCE TO FORGET."
When the group started to lose steam, we all collapsed onto the stage in a sweaty heap of laughter. At one point in the breather, I felt like Totoro and became a giant pillow for Teressa, Sadie, and Betty as they leaned against me, breathless and glowing.
The DJ picked up the tempo again by playing Destiny's Child- "Jumpin', Jumpin'".
Betty sat upright, eyes wide with excitement. "Ooh, I like this song. Ryan!"
"Woman! I'm tired for once! Ugh!" He fanned himself with his open shirt and plopped like a rag doll. "I need a longer break."
"Aww, c'mon." Betty pouted.
Ryan groaned. "Take the big guy. He hasn't danced enough." He kicked at my feet.
"Say what?" I shot him a look.
"Go on, Bubba." Ryan grinned. "Don't keep her waiting."
Betty gave me those same pleading eyes, shimmering and mesmerizing.
Was there some ancient secret every girl learned about weaponizing that look? Because damn, it worked every time.
I sighed, defeated. "Alright, alright."
She laughed and pulled me onto the floor again.
And that's when she really surprised me.
Betty was not shy in the least, and her dancing said it all. I was stunned and became shy by the way she swayed her curvy hips and let her "assets" bounce to what I called "booty shaking music".
How am I supposed to match her energy?
I probably looked like a malfunctioning robot beside her, but she didn't seem to care. She smiled, and that smile alone was enough to keep me going.
James and Chrissy joined us on the dance floor. James wasn't quite the dancer either, but it was nice to have that support.
A few dances played, and I became comfortable, not confident, dancing with Betty. I was having fun.
As the night wore on, the songs slowed to the smooth sounds of R&B. Chrissy and James immediately went right into a slow dance.
Slow Dance!
I stood there nervously, wanting to escape. And just as I was about to retreat, Betty caught my hand.
"Wait!" Her lips curved into a cute smile. Just one more?" she asked, her voice soft but certain.
My pulse stuttered.
Why couldn't I resist? This had me shaking and nervous, feeling more clueless than before.
I slicked my hands on the back of my jersey and nodded. She guided my hands to her waist and put her arms around my shoulders, and we started to sway.
It felt like a hug. It was simple. Comforting. And it felt...right.
Brian McKnight's Back at One was playing, the lyrics echoing softly through the gym. Betty started singing along, her voice quiet and sweet against the bassline. I stared into her blue eyes, bright as glass and sparkling like a starry night—and everything else fell away.
The music faded, the crowd vanished, the world shrank to just her and me.
Betty squeezed tighter, her head rested against my shoulder, and her hair brushing my cheek. A familiar vanilla scent drifted through the air, soft, sweet, and almost intoxicating, like the smell of fresh-baked sugar cookies.
My chest tightened with something I couldn't name. What was this feeling? A warmth that wasn't just nerves this time.
My face was hot from blushing, but I didn't care. Being in her arms made me forget everything and brought me a sense of peace.
I didn't want it to end. All I wanted to do was keep her in my arms.
"Alright, Pumas!" The DJ announced while the song was coming to an end. "Thank you for coming out tonight. I'm DJ Slick, and it's been a pleasure. Drive safe and enjoy the weekend."
The song came to an end, fading into the echo of applause and the buzz of teenage chatter. Then—flash—the arena lights blazed on. My eyes winced at the sudden flood of white after an hour of strobes and shadows. The crowd roared one last time before scattering toward the exits, sneakers squeaking against the gym floor.
While the rest of the group were saying their goodbyes to each other, Betty and I slipped away to the front ledge—the exact spot where we always sat after night school. The night had settled calmly and coolly around us. The city hum was distant; the stars were half-hidden behind the glow of the streetlights. It was quiet in a way that made the whole night feel sacred.
Betty smiled and rested her head on my shoulder. I leaned mine against hers, and for a long moment, we didn't speak. The world felt still—just her heartbeat against my arm and the faint echo of music still ringing in my head.
Peace.
"That was fun," Betty said softly.
"Mmhmm," I breathed, my shoulders finally relaxing. "It was nice. I had a good time. Thank you."
"Where the hell are you guys?" Ryan's voice carried across the parking lot, breaking the calm like a thrown pebble.
"Over here!" Betty shouted. She went to stand up to wave at him, but froze halfway.
Squelch
Her face twisted. "What was that?"
I tilted my head. "Hold on… I think you sat on gum."
"No! I like these jeans!" she whined, turning in a panic.
I stood to help and instantly regretted it.
Squelch
"Seriously?" I groaned.
The exact tacky string of gum that clung to her jeans was now smeared across the back of my jersey. It was like some tragicomic fate—one glob, two victims.
"Ew!" Betty picked and plucked.
I tried to roll the gum off, laughing through the disgust. The whole thing became so ridiculous that we both burst into giggles, doubled over in laughter as we were picking the gum off each other.
And then, without notice, I turned my head and found Betty's lips pushed up against mine.
My heart jolted as I pressed back.
It was soft. Sweet. Real.
Was this the spark I've always heard about in stories?
She pulled back slowly, eyes wide, lips parted in shock.
"Uh…" I stammered, biting my lip. My pulse was still racing.
I didn't know if it was intentional or an accident—but it happened. And something between us changed in that heartbeat.
"Mmhmm! I see what's going on."
We jumped. Ryan stood at the top of the stoop, arms crossed, smirk spreading across his face.
"No, you don't!" Betty shot back.
"Do too! You all were sucking face." Ryan mocked. "I know what I saw."
"It was just a peck!" Betty insisted, but she was laughing—and blushing hard.
"Yeah, with tongue and all." Ryan made exaggerated slurping noises.
Betty lunged at him, and Ryan danced backward, shouting, "Okay, bitch, let's go!"
Whatever they were doing devolved into a slapstick showdown. His hand flailed like a wet noodle, and Betty copied him with equal drama. I couldn't describe the ridiculousness if I tried—I just laughed until my sides hurt.
Then—snap!
"Ah! Fucker!" Betty yelped, clutching her back.
Ryan had tugged her bra strap and let it fly like a slingshot.
These two were a walking sitcom.
It was my first time actually hanging out with Ryan, and he had all kinds of dirty jokes and stories to share. Not only did he tell them, but he also acted some of it out, like a true stand-up comedian.
"CC told me you were a riot," I said between laughs. "She wasn't lying."
"Yeah? Where the hell was CC anyway?" Ryan asked.
Betty shrugged and sat back down next to me. "She said she was going to be here."
Ryan sat beside us, shrugging. "Her loss. She missed out on all this."
He wasn't wrong. CC missed more than she knew.
Ryan eyed us with mock suspicion, his grin creeping. "Sooo… what are you doing this weekend?"
"Uh… probably being bored out of my mind at my grandparents," I admitted.
"Change that!" he said, smirking. "You're coming with us tomorrow."
"Yeah!" Betty perked up.
"What's going on tomorrow?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"COSMO BOWL!" Ryan announced like a preacher.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"What?"
"It's blacklight bowling with music and disco lights," Betty explained. "All the base kids go—it's awesome."
"That actually sounds… kind of awesome," I said, nodding. "I'll have to ask if I can go."
"Okay. And you can give me a call when you find out?" Betty smiled.
"I don't have your number."
"IT'S 555—" Ryan started shouting.
"Shhh." Betty hushed Ryan by slapping his leg.
"Oww." Ryan winced.
Betty grabbed a gel pen from her purse and started to write it down on the back of my hand. She added a little heart to it. "Here."
"Whoa," I said, blinking. "That's funny. My number's literally yours in reverse."
"Really?!" Betty laughed.
-HONK-
A beat-up blue Dodge Shadow honked from the curb.
"That's my dad," she said, hopping up. "Call me, okay?"
I nodded as she and Ryan headed toward the car. The taillights disappeared down the street, leaving the night quiet again.
I stood there, half-smiling, half-stunned.
Who would have thought?
I was supposed to be Bear's wingman and help him win Betty over, but instead, Ryan became my wingman—or was he being hers?
Either way, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight had changed something.
The song, the dance, the kiss—it all replayed in my head on the walk home, looping like a melody I didn't want to end.
Everything about it felt like fate. Even the gum.
Like the universe had a sense of humor—and a plan.
Of all the things that could happen, I did not see this coming. Was I falling for Betty?
I couldn't stop thinking about her.