The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [47]
I promised to practice more. Amy explained that there weren't really many slow songs played at these dances but that we should probably go over slow dancing just in case. She showed me where to put my arms, and we moved around her room to "We've Got Tonight" by Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton. "Just stay on the beat," Amy insisted. "Take it nice and slow, and don't get all panicky."
The song ended and Aunt Sandy was standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh. "You two do know you're cousins, right?" she asked with a wide grin.
I practiced a little every night in my room, not daring to let anyone see me. The night of the dance, I ironed my best long-sleeve shirt and church pants and sprinkled some of my dad's English Leather cologne on my neck.
The mom of one of Amy's friends came and picked us up. Four of us piled into the back of her huge Olds Cutlass. Amy had on what she considered her best clothes and even a little makeup. The whole ride to school was a blur because I was so nervous. I mostly kept my mouth shut and hugged one of the doors.
The junior high cafeteria had been transformed into a dance hall by hanging up lengths of crepe paper around all the doors, setting up a table littered with paper cups full of punch, and turning off most of the lights. The effort had taken dozens of teenagers months to plan and execute.
Music was already playing when we arrived, and kids were milling around in various groups with a few people dancing in the middle of the room. Amy was quickly swallowed up by her ninth-grade friends and soon afterward had pushed a large number of them into the dancing area.
I looked around desperately for familiar faces and saw Chantz Eyring and Jimmy Bradshaw near the punch table. I had never had much to do with them before, but it was amazing how much you could find to talk about when you were pretending to not be interested in dancing. It was also amazing how many tiny sips of punch you could get out of one cup when you were looking for something to do with your hands.
Just when I thought I might get away with not dancing at all, Amy sent her friend Paige Manning over. "Would you like to dance?" asked Paige playfully.
"Sure," I said, and followed her toward the middle of the room. My heart rate accelerated, and I tried to remember everything Amy had taught me. "Come on Eileen" was blaring from the speakers, and I did my best to move my arms and legs. I hardly dared look at Paige and mostly kept my head down. I caught a glimpse of Amy, and she mouthed to me, "Smile!" I faked a grin and held out to the end. I thanked Paige and fled back to a corner, hoping no one was watching too carefully.
Half an hour later, Amy sent over Stacy Tanner to repeat the experience. This time we got "Little Red Corvette" by Prince. I looked up more, and Stacy kept smiling back at me encouragingly.
Amy left me alone after that, and I was able to shrink into the shadows and just watch. I mostly watched her. She moved effortlessly around the room, dancing and talking to everyone. She looked genuinely happy and not the least bit self-conscious. She seemed so much older than me. I felt a wave of guilt for convincing her to help me with the orchard. Weeds and mud and dead apple branches all seemed so beneath her.
The dance ended at ten, and I got dropped off at home before Amy and her friends drove off somewhere together.
***
I woke up on Friday morning at the time I usually would on a school day but lay in bed staring up at my ceiling. If a car had driven by dropping Amy off, I had slept through it, so I wondered when she made it home. I decided I deserved to sleep in a little, but right before I could fall back to sleep, my sisters barged into my room.
"Wake up, lazy," said Lisa derisively. She and Jennifer started bouncing on my bed.
"What do you want? Go away!" I grunted, and tried to roll over.
"Is this what you're going to do all summer?You think we're going to do all the work while you lay around?" Lisa teased.