On The Way To The Dance

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The bus ride to Westwood was surreal. After two weeks of stewing in estrogen, save a few male teachers, the Rosewood girls were crazy excited to be going to the dance where they would experience, as Chelly put it, the Westwood Buffet. The buzz on the bus was palpable and I could only describe it as something like a shark feeding frenzy, where the sharks wore designer dresses and a lot of makeup and were very, very hungry.

I’d only met a few of the guys: Will, Evan and I guess Brady counted, too, since he was a student, along with Dave, who I hadn’t yet met, but had heard enough about to know was pretty much perfection on a stick, but to hear the girls talk, all Westwood boys were great catches.

Money, looks, smarts—just like Rosewood girls had it all, Westwood boys did, too. Plus testosterone and muscles—Westwood prided itself on having an excellent athletics program and boasted the highest number of Olympic podium finishes per capita of any school in the U.S.

“Why so quiet?” Chelly asked from the seat in front of me. She was sitting sideways so she could talk to all of us as we sat together on the short ride to the Westwood campus.

I shrugged, “Tired I guess.” And I was, but that wasn’t why I was quiet. I was terrified.

Sure, I had been to dances before and even some big non-school ones back in London. I had some okay moves on the floor, but that’s not what I was worried about: this was different. This was my first dance as the new and improved Brooklyn, who was going to try to embrace the fact that she was the new girl and get herself noticed.

I had to admit, if ever I was prepped to be noticed, this was it. The designer dress, which Emmie had practically forced onto my body, did look exceptional on me. And my makeup somehow came together with only one rushed mascara wand to the eyeball. My strappy pumps, though being higher than what I was used to, completed the outfit and made my legs look great, despite them causing new discomfort in my already aching calves. But I’d power through. This was the dance, the one that was going to set the tone for the entire year.

“I can’t wait to see Dave,” Emmie said, bouncing in her seat a little beside Chelly, making her move up and down, too.

“You just saw him last night when you set up the gym for the dance,” I said, remembering how she’d returned the night before with googly eyes and plumped lips that I knew were from making out and not some cosmetic lip enhancer.

She gave me a sheepish look, as though she was remembering, too. “Well yeah, but they’ll be wearing jackets and ties tonight. They all look so sexy when they’re dressed up.”

“Bring it!” Chelly said. “I can’t wait.”

We all laughed, which eased my nerves a bit. Though I realized I wasn’t the only quiet one. “So, is there anyone you have your eye on?” I asked Kaylee. She was sitting beside me in a subdued, but very pretty navy dress accented by a small diamond pendant. Although I didn’t know many of the boys, she’d had two years to get to know them and single out at least one.

She shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, but Celia interrupted before she got the chance.

“She had a thing for Phillip Carson last year, but then he started dating Harmony Wilson. They’re both seniors this year.”

“They’re not still together,” Chelly broke in. “They broke up during the summer.”

Kaylee’s eyes lit up as she looked at Chelly. “Really?”

Chelly nodded. “Yep. Harmony hooked up with a guy back home. She’s doing the long distance thing—I heard her talking about it in Algebra.”

“Will you dance with him?” I asked.

Kaylee shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“Yes she will,” Celia said. “We’ll make it happen. Kaylee, don’t think about…”

Kaylee cut her off with a look. I wondered what that was about, but Celia shook her head when I looked at her.

“He’s friends with Dave,” Emmie said. “I’ll talk to him.”

“How are you going to talk and make out at the same time?” Chelly asked, her face deadpan.

Emmie playfully smacked her, but didn’t bother answering, turning to me. “I can’t wait for you to meet Dave,” she said. “You’re going to love him. Well, not love him, love him, but you’ll get along great when you do the liaison thing together.”

I’d forgotten that when Emmie traded Community Service Assignments with me that it meant I would get to work with her boyfriend.

“Brooklyn’s met Dave,” Chelly said, looking from Emmie to me.

“Not yet,” I said.

Chelly frowned and looked at Celia. “I’m sure he was who helped you move your trunk upstairs when they screwed up your room. Him and Jenks. Right, Celia?”

Celia nodded and looked at me. “Yeah, when they brought your trunk to my room.”

I glanced at Emmie. “No,” I said, starting to panic. “He said his name was Will.”

“Willmont Davidson,” Emmie said. “He goes by Dave. Just like Evan goes by Jenks. That’s what they all do.”

I looked at my roommate and tried to force my heart out of my throat. “Emmie, I swear…”

She looked at me weirdly for a half a second and then waved me off, her mouth breaking into a smile. “It’s okay. But did he really tell you his name was Will? He hates his first name.”

I thought back to that first day. “No,” I shook my head. “It was a misunderstanding. He said his name was Willmont and I guess I shortened it to Will. He didn’t correct me. Emmie, I…”

She shook her head. “No, seriously. It’s okay. He’s a total flirt. I get it. I guess I should be flattered that you think he’s hot, right?” she laughed, but it was a bit strained. Like she was trying to be the big person.

But it was suddenly awkward. The guy she’d been talking about for two weeks; the perfect, sexy and smart guy who was an amazing kisser turned out to be the same guy I’d been secretly pining over.

And was going to be spending the year working with.

“Dave is a flirt,” Kaylee said. “But he’s not the cheating type. And anyway, we all know he’s absolutely in love with you, Emmie.”

“And anyway, you’ve got Brady, right?” Celia said, also trying to ease the tension.

We all looked at her and I could have hugged her and Kaylee in that moment.

“Right,” I said. “Brady.”

“He’s totally into you,” Chelly said. “I saw you talking to him the other day outside the stables. He’s never shown any interest in anyone before, but he was looking at you like he wanted to throw you down on the floor of the stables. It was hot.” She made a point of fanning herself with her hand.

I glanced at Emmie, who seemed to be relieved at that.

“He’s totally sexy,” Celia said. “Those eyes. Rowr.”

We all laughed. Things were almost back to normal.

Almost.

But on the inside I was still panicking that later Emmie was going to remember what I’d said about liking the trunk mover guy and she was going to hate me.

My heart began to pound as we pulled up to the Westwood driveway. My objective for the evening had just done a one-eighty. I was no longer eager to see Willmont Davidson again; I was desperate to avoid him at all costs.

 

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