"Ask him!" you tell me. "Go!" you say
when the slow dancing songs finally got underway.
I look and hear him laugh, same as always, over there,
but I stay rooted to the spot; frozen, nervous, and scared.
"Get moving! Go ask him! Hurry up, Shannon! GO!!"
I want to! I want to! I scream inside as I laugh out a shaky "No."
"Shannon." You fix me with a glare. "Go ask him NOW or I will."
You give me one of those looks that could hypothetically kill.
Unsure of how to do that right, I walk up to him shy and slow,
but stop a ways away, not sure how far I should go.
I see him look around the room, trying to find a girl to ask,
so I timidly smile across the floor and to my surprise, he smiles back!
I put my hand on his shoulder, for the traditional waltz pose,
but he rests both his hands on my waist, and, blushing, he pulls me close.
An awkward silence comes between us as we sway and shuffle our feet,
then laughing as the stupid DJ changes the song to a faster beat.
"You can't dance slow to this song!" I complain about the DJ.
He just laughs and agrees with me, but doesn't pull his hands away.