Snippet of the Past

The night begins on a high.

There are three of us, all standing in front of the mirror, trying out different shades of lip gloss and passing each others' shirts, shoes, and necklaces between us.

I've lived with these girls for years, and they're the closest thing I've had to sisters. It's been a quiet day of reading, a bit of writing, and a few menial tasks, and now it's time to go into the world. We laugh, and I feel invigorated, packed with energy. I can do anything. I can take on the universe! They will watch me moonwalk across a rainbow before backflipping into an ocean of gummy worms.

I finally settle on a deep red shade of lip gloss. The girl with the highest fashion sense recommended it, and I trust her evaluation. It does go well with the black lace of my top. High boots, and I know my hips look sexy when I walk.

Then it's into the car. Three of us on our way, singing at the top of our lungs, and I can't even begin to care that I'm only hitting half the notes. The other two aren't doing any better by any stretch of the imagination, but we're all singing with utter abandon. I know the words well enough, and the beat is uppity, and suddenly I don't care that I always change the station whenever this song comes on.

We're here.

I jump out of the car, and before I even step through the doors I can hear the music pounding. The dance is just getting under way, and there is still plenty of room on the floor. I spin across the room, making a pit stop at the refreshment table to see how many Red Vines I can cram into my mouth without choking on liccoricey laughter.

A little group of people I know has formed, moving side to side in a little circle. I bound into their midst, but my movements are off. My motions are a little more exuberant than the rest, and it feels out of place. I try to raise the energy of the group and do a crazy spin. They laugh at me, and encourage me, but they don't join in.

The music slows - a love song. It's time for couples dancing. I pull off the floor and take to vigilantly guarding the refreshment table. My eyes rove across the crowd, hoping someone will give me the chance to participate. I could ask someone, maybe a close friend with whom I know I can carry on a conversation for the short duration of the dance. Three minutes isn't fast enough to strike up a conversation out of nowhere, so if I already know the person, we'll already have some ground for small talk.

No... not him. He's already dancing. Pity. We can jabber about nothing in any situation.

Not him either. He's handsome as all get out, and not dancing, but I have no idea what I would even begin to say. Like I said, three minutes with nothing to start from is a flawless recipe for awkward casserole.

I sway a little - I still want to be dancing. But, well... I'm pretty sure it looks weird, me standing like that, dancing with some imaginary partner. So I stop. But then again, I'm sure it looks weird me just standing there, giving the unseeing crowd puppy eyes in hopes that someone will take pity on me and ask me to dance.

I scan the crowd for my girls. One is missing - I have no idea where she is. The other is wrapped around some boy she probably met at the beginning of that song, encouraging him to spin her and do a lift. He does, and she vaults into the air... so he's a dancer too.

The song ends, and the thudding beat begins again. The group I danced with before has dissolved, so I stay by the refreshment table, absently nibbling a cookie while I scan the crowd for a group with people I know. The crowd has grown and the floor is completely full. I have a hard time even seeing distinct clusters, let alone groups that include those I know.

I can feel myself drifting as I begin to wander the floor.

There's someone. I only know two people in that group of ten, but the two I know won't give me weird looks for suddenly joining them.

I sway my hips and scoop my shoulders - it probably looks pretty good if anyone can see it. The group is talking, but I'm having a hard time following the conversation - it's about someone I've never even heard of. The two people I know seem to have heard of him, though. They make a snarky comment about his commitment issues, and the group bursts out laughing. I smile and laugh too - I can probably imagine the context that makes that comment funny. That guy must have done a number on a few of those girls.

I'm alright at this. I can mimic their emotions well enough not to make them wonder why I'm even there. But, when the song ends, it's off through the cacophony of chattering voices to find a conversation I might be able to say something in.

I find myself outside. The air is cool, and the music is a quiet thudding in the background. That gentle thud is a peaceful backdrop to the chirping of crickets and the occasional car that zooms past. I sit in the grass and lean back, closing my eyes. It's only a few moments before I check my watch.

Two hours. There are still two hours left before the dance is over. I might be able to convince my girls it's time to go half an hour early, but there's no way they'd want to leave now.

And yet, all I can think about is my quiet room. I want a book, or maybe a movie... something that will rejuvenate me. Somehow, that short time in the dance has left me tired, and I know I need a recharge. Maybe the girls can ride home with another friend - lots of people from our complex are there at the dance, and one of those girls has the super power of being able to make a friend out of anyone, especially if that someone is a boy. Then I can go curl up with a book - ooh! Or maybe even my notebook. I can work on my story. And I can stop at Dairy Queen on the way home and pick up a banana cream pie Blizzard.

I smile at the thought and check my watch again.

It's been two and a half minutes.

I venture back into the dance to find a friend - any friend - and ask them to take my girls home. The floor is swarming with hundreds of bodies, all swaying and writhing in time to the beat. I project a forcefield-like shield of unseeing toward them. I'm examining individual faces in my search, but my blinders block out the masses. I can feel them pressing against my shield, bending it and threatening to break through, but I'm determined to keep searching.

There. There's a good one.

He'll be here for a while, he has a big car, and he's good friends with my girls. A few brief minutes of conversation confirms that he has room for two more girls, and I'm off to find them.

I tell them I'm not feeling well - tired isn't well, after all. They're both a little surprised; I was so energetic not an hour before. But then, the surprise disappears, and they smile. They know me better than that. One tries to encourage me to stay - how am I ever going to meet the love of my life if I hide out in my room all the time?

I feel a little guilty - I know she's at least a little right. I'm as single as a bobwhite quail whose mate got too close to the rotors of a helicopter, and I'm not about to advance any sort of social status by bailing a third of the way through the dance. But, on the other hand, I'm almost proud of myself for having made it this far. I got out. I got seen. I did as much as I could, and now it's time to rest.

I bid them farewell and disappear into my car. The quiet presses on my head, but I'm too mentally shredded to turn on the radio. I've had enough music for one night.

As I get near my home, the story starts to tell itself. I can barely wait to grab my notebook! My mind wraps around my characters, grasping onto their relationships and their struggles, and I feel myself relax. I walk through the door and settle on the couch, pen in hand, notebook on my lap. A smile creeps along my face, developing slowly into a full-fledged grin as I scribble furiously, throwing dialog between the people that possess the page.

Two hours later, my girls come home. I greet them with a smile, then move back to my bedroom where I can continue writing. I know it'll be 3:00 AM or later before my brain convinces my characters their writer needs sleep more than they need to talk to each other, but for now, I'm surrounded in happy peace.