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The Dance of Disaster

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The sun rose like a loaf of bread above the mountainous horizon. My classmates and I flowed into the hallway like flowing water, intermingling and colliding with one another. I gathered with my friends and we joined forces to ask one another's crushes or significant others to the big summertime dance, which to us, was a gilded carrot. After several rounds of this potentially disastrous game, it ended up being my turn. Catching my breath from running like a gazelle down the less crowded hallway, I spotted the boy I wanted to ask to the dance. No one truly knew I had a crush on him, but my friend Breanna spotted me looking. "Who are you going to ask?" She, the fox, asked. "I don't know!" I yelped, knowing I was too late. "Hey, guys. Jaz doesn't know who to ask yet," she called to the rest of my friends, who were clustered as a flock of geese next to a wall. One other friend knew me well enough to recognize the signs. "Yes you do," was her gleeful exclamation. "Augh! No I don't! You guys just go ask people and I'll try to think, okay?" I looked around at the malevolent faces surrounding me, and my heart sunk like a stone.

"Which class is he in, Jasmine?" Breanna asked. We were surfing the wave of fellow students in the hallway, searching for my crush. Bre's dance card was half full, bur my own was a pit of half yeses, no’s, and a few loyal friends who were kind enough to help their socially paralyzed, love struck friend. "I don't know," I muttered, eyes like glue to the floor's paper, cheeks the color of blood. "I don't stalk." Breanna laughed, a sound that was, in my state, as irritating as nails on a chalkboard. "I think he has the same class period as Austin. Let's ask him!" Five minutes later, after having asked my brother where my crush could be hiding, and his overeager reply, I was beginning to feel as if my friends were trying to give me away for marriage. Aside from that, we were as close as we were going to get together to my crush. "Do you want me to go in with you?" Breanna offered. "Nah, you've wasted enough time on me. I have to get you to ask ____ now!" I grinned like a beam of light, my insides like a pile of snakes. Breanna smiled back, looking distinctly appalled. "Don't say the name!" she hushed, glancing over her shoulder like a startled cat. I smiled widely at her. "Okay. But remember, your next!" She glared at me as I, gathering the courage of a small animal, stepped gingerly into the classroom. My crush was in there, with three of his friends. My flesh was made of ants from nervousness, and they crawled into my voice, making it shake. "H-hey, guys," I began, trying desperately to act as if this was my niche. Asking the guy you like to a dance. No big deal. Yeah, I can do this! My internal monologue did nothing but to freak me out more. "Umm...what sup?" Terrifically astute. The rest of my completely prepared speech was lost on my crush, who dived under a desk. His friends guffawed as my face flamed. Without another word, I turned and marched out of the classroom, tears like a noose, threatening to choke me. "How'd it go?" Breanna asked, clearly waiting for me. "Silly, didn't have to wait for me. I would have hunted you down." I managed, my face a mask of iron. "I know," Bre said cheerfully. "I just wanted to slap you a high-five for getting a date!" I, who really just wanted to run to the nearest bathroom stall and die, high-fived back face aglow with feigned happiness. "I'm so freaked, I need a rest in the room. I'll come attack in 'bout five minutes, okay?" I asked. "Sure!" Breanna seemed really happy for me, and spoiling her day by telling her my biggest failure would only be mean. "Peace!" I walked away. Once out of sight, I shifted into a sprint, and ducked into a bathroom. Once there, my face crumpled like a piece of paper. I calmed down and went to the dance, surrounded by those who actually cared about me, rather than some jerk who ducked under tables whenever a member of the sex he was attracted to walked by.



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