The Spectacular Now
I know I’m here with Aimee—and I’m glad to be with her—but how can you not stare at Cassidy? She’s wearing this gorgeous turquoise gown that hugs every opulent curve. The turquoise sets her eyes off so that they glow like blue diamonds, and her perfect skin gleams like polished milk. Whereas Aimee has to keep tugging at the straps on her dress to keep them on her shoulders, Cassidy’s gown has no straps. Her magnificent cle**age does the job all on its own like some awesome miracle of anatomical engineering.
“She’s a good dancer,” Aimee says.
“What?”
“Cassidy. She’s a good dancer.”
“Oh yeah, I guess she is. I hadn’t noticed.”
When the song ends, Cassidy heads back to the table, pulling Marcus along by the hand. “Why aren’t you out there dancing?” she asks me.
“You know I hate this kind of music.”
“So what? I hate it too. But aren’t you the one who always says, ‘Embrace the weird’? Just get out there and have some fun.”
She has a point. I’m not one of these people who worries about the hipness quotient of my music. I just like what I like. Besides, I’m a great dancer.
“Come on.” I grab Aimee’s hand as another terrible song cranks up. “I really hate this song. We’ll have a blast!”
But my hand tug meets with unexpected resistance. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Hey, with my moves, I can make anyone look good.”
“Maybe later.” She holds up her cup as if to say, It’ll take a few more drinks to get me out there.
From the other side, Cassidy grabs my arm. “You don’t mind if I borrow him for this dance, then, do you?”
“Uh, sure,” Aimee says. “No, that’d be great.”
On the dance floor, it’s a little awkward at first. Cassidy and I have never danced as just friends. “So.” She raises her voice to compete with the music. “Aimee looks nice.”
“Yeah.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
“You look amazing.”
She smiles and glances away.
It feels comfortable now. No use trying to hide the fact that there’s still a spark between us.
I spin her, then we pull together, then step apart and pull back again, moving together as smoothly as ever. Only once do I get a little too rambunctious and accidentally collide with Derrick Ransom.
He’s like, “Watch where you’re going, Sutter,” and I’m, “Hey, it’s just this dance floor. It’s way too small to contain my fabulous moves.”
“Yeah, right.”
The song ends and a slow one starts up.
“You want to dance one more?” Cassidy says.
“Sure. One more sounds good.”
It’s been a while since I held her like this. There’s so much to hold on to. The warmth of her is nearly overwhelming. Her perfume smells like she looks—blue and white and golden. This is not the time to raise a stiffy, but the song’s only halfway through, and my defenses are weakening.
“I hope Aimee doesn’t mind us slow dancing,” she says.
“What’s there to mind?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I might mind if it was me.”
“How about Marcus. You think he’s all right with it?”
“He’d better be.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“So how are you and Aimee doing?” Her lips are right next to my ear now.
“We’re good.”
“You’re treating her all right, aren’t you?”
“Sir Galahad has nothing on me in the chivalry department.”
She laughs and her breath is warm against my neck. “I noticed her pull out a flask and spice up her punch. You’re not turning her into a lush, are you?”
I pull back and look her in the face. “What is this? Did you want to dance or give me a lecture about Aimee?”
She leans her cheek against mine. “Dance,” she says.
When the song’s over, she pats my cheek and we head back to the table. Seems like Marcus hasn’t even been paying attention to us. He’s deep in conversation with Darius Carter and Jimmy McManus. Aimee’s sitting off to the side with the kind of strained expression on her face that people get when they’re trying to look like they don’t mind being left alone in the middle of a crowd.
I kiss her on the cheek and ask how her flask is holding out.
“I still have a little left.”
“A little?” I take a sip of her punch. “Wow. That’s one high-octane libation.” I take another sip. “But not bad. Not bad at all.”
The prom swirls around us. It’s a spectacular stage in the life of the buzz, the stage when you feel connected to everybody and everything. The memories I have with these people are too many to count. So many buddies with so many funny stories to go along with them. Sometimes I can just picture their faces and it cracks me up.
And then there are the ex-girlfriends. They look incredible, every one of them. Next to Cassidy, Shawnie is probably the most beautiful, the way her red gown goes with her black hair and deep tan and glittering eyes. It’s good to see her so happy. I was a little worried when I found out she’d started dating Jeremy Holtz, but they actually seem good together. I wouldn’t have expected Jeremy to even care about coming to the prom, but here he is, and I’ve never seen him smile so much.
These are my people. We’re all dressed up and celebrating our common bond—youth. That’s what the prom is—St. Patrick’s Day for the young. Only we’re not toasting shamrocks or chasing snakes out of Ireland. We’re toasting the chlorophyll rising in our bodies, catching the energy from the universe. Nobody’s ever been young like we are right at this moment. We’re the Faster-than-the-Speed-of-Light Generation.