Ghost Girl
The girl from the stands is here, the girl I've met only a couple of times. She seems more sparkling in this moment than any girl I've ever seen before. And it's as if she knows the answers to all of those questions I asked the world about whether I should even be at this party at all.
If I ask her to dance, maybe she'll be the one to tell me why I'm scared and maybe I'll learn the secret to incredible timing. She'll say, "It's me you're afraid of," or "It's Gitt, I heard she broke up with you," or "You're really freaked out by all of us girls."
"This pressure to be cool," I'll say. "I didn't think I cared." But maybe this ghost girl is part of the fear.
But of all the people in the room, of all of the girls in this small world, she seems the least scary. I watch her dance with another guy, and her eyes meet mine. This is a different kind of high.
"Wanna dance?" I ask.
It feels like the first time I have ever asked a girl anything.
If I ask her to dance, maybe she'll be the one to tell me why I'm scared and maybe I'll learn the secret to incredible timing. She'll say, "It's me you're afraid of," or "It's Gitt, I heard she broke up with you," or "You're really freaked out by all of us girls."
"This pressure to be cool," I'll say. "I didn't think I cared." But maybe this ghost girl is part of the fear.
But of all the people in the room, of all of the girls in this small world, she seems the least scary. I watch her dance with another guy, and her eyes meet mine. This is a different kind of high.
"Wanna dance?" I ask.
It feels like the first time I have ever asked a girl anything.
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