Crashing Prom
It’s as if we’re the only other people at the prom. I tell Mickey my real name is Emily and I tell him I don’t have cancer.
“That’s good,” he says. But Mickey seems as if he’s some place else as if he’s half in this ballroom decked out with purple and silver and half out of it (like he grabbed one of the balloons and took off a while ago to a place none of us have ever been and he teeters there between this world and that world and he’s not quite sure, he’s not ready to make up his mind about anything I’m saying.
And I think how he must have seen that video of Julio and me and how it must have messed him up and I say, “At Gitt’s the other night, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Mickey laughs but I can’t. “Is that why you didn’t you want to take me to the prom?” I ask.
“This is a good song,” he says. “Let’s dance.”
My lips move so fast my voice cracks. I grab his hand. He seems as nervous as I am and in those seconds what Mickey thinks and what he might say become my universe. I forget almost everything from before. And when I dare a glance at Mickey and at his lips they look dry and unwelcoming and I have trouble imagining them making any space for mine.
But of all the people I have ever kissed, he looks the most uncomfortable. I must look that way to Mickey too. I keep looking down at my incredibly high heels. Maybe if I lean in?
Mickey seems to get the message. And then everything in the solar system that had ever bothered me disappears. I do not pay attention to anything but the way his lips move on mine and my fingers pull him even further into that perfect place that only fairies and imaginaries know about. If only we could stay there.
“That’s good,” he says. But Mickey seems as if he’s some place else as if he’s half in this ballroom decked out with purple and silver and half out of it (like he grabbed one of the balloons and took off a while ago to a place none of us have ever been and he teeters there between this world and that world and he’s not quite sure, he’s not ready to make up his mind about anything I’m saying.
And I think how he must have seen that video of Julio and me and how it must have messed him up and I say, “At Gitt’s the other night, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Mickey laughs but I can’t. “Is that why you didn’t you want to take me to the prom?” I ask.
“This is a good song,” he says. “Let’s dance.”
My lips move so fast my voice cracks. I grab his hand. He seems as nervous as I am and in those seconds what Mickey thinks and what he might say become my universe. I forget almost everything from before. And when I dare a glance at Mickey and at his lips they look dry and unwelcoming and I have trouble imagining them making any space for mine.
But of all the people I have ever kissed, he looks the most uncomfortable. I must look that way to Mickey too. I keep looking down at my incredibly high heels. Maybe if I lean in?
Mickey seems to get the message. And then everything in the solar system that had ever bothered me disappears. I do not pay attention to anything but the way his lips move on mine and my fingers pull him even further into that perfect place that only fairies and imaginaries know about. If only we could stay there.
Comments
Post a Comment