Chapter 11: The Dance and Ride Home

Debbie Simmons danced every dance, chatting with her partner and smiling at everyone. She was a delight to watch. Charlie urged me to ask her to dance with me, but I told him it would be impossible for me to get to her before someone else did. There seemed to be a line of cadets waiting for her at the end of every dance.

The DJ's announcement of the last dance came as a relief to me. Charlie would finally stop nagging me about asking his friend to dance. I think he was enjoying making me squirm after I admitted that I didn't know how to dance.

"Hey, Oldham, see that girl over there?" Jarvis was poking me in the arm and pointing in the direction of the Speedwell girls. There must have been fifty of them who weren't dancing.

"Yeah," I answered, like I was interested.

"Go dance with her," he made it sound like he was giving me an order.

"I told you I don't know how," I said, wanting to end the conversation so I could go back to watching Debra.

"Damn it Oldham, she sent word that she's got something she wants to tell you. Get your ass over there."

"Which one?" I didn't believe him but he wasn't going to leave me alone until I either danced with the girl or caused a scene, which would result in a demerit.

"The tall one that's watching us. Her name's Paula or something."

Smitty and Charlie both urged me to dance with the girl and I did see that she was bouncing up and down like she had to pee or something so I walked toward the Speedwell girls.

I didn't even have to make my speech. She tucked her hand in my right arm and we took a few steps onto the dance floor before she turned and took my hand in hers and placed her right hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong with you?" She asked when I didn't move.

"I don't know how to dance," I said. She was about two inches taller than me. She took my right hand and placed it on her side. "Just sway with the music," she said and we started swaying together without moving our feet.

"You're riding home with us. My dad is driving the black Mercury with dealer license plates. Now walk me back," she said, dislodging herself from me.

"Wait, who said I was riding with you? How do you know who I am?" She was dragging me in the direction of the Speedwell girls.

"Your driver talked to my father. He had something else to do and wanted us to bring you home."

I didn't know what to do. A matronly woman was staring at us. I couldn't keep standing there. I squared my shoulders and was forming the words of my exit speech when she spoke again. "Margaret, this is Sammy Oldham. He's going to ask you to dance, aren't you Sammy?"

The matronly woman was glaring at me now. I had no choice but to take a step to my left. "May I have the pleasure of this dance?" Margaret smiled and stuck out her hand for me to hold as we walked a few steps towards the other dancers. She practically fell into my arms and started talking while I concentrated on holding on to my hat and keeping her chest spaced a flat, open-hand width between us.

"It's the last dance. They relax the rules," she said as she snuggled her body next to mine. The other dancers' bodies were melted together so I accepted her statement as being true. The music was slow. We stood in the same spot and swayed our bodies. I wrapped my right arm around her waist and let her chin rest on my shoulder. She smelled nice.

"What's your friend's name, the tall one?"

"She's Paula Augustine. Don't you know her? You're from the same neighborhood."

"I've not met her before, but I don't know very many people from where I go on the weekends."

"She's been trying to get your attention the whole time we've been here but you were looking the other way. Do you know one of the Forrester girls?"

"Yes, well no, I don't but I'm going to."

Margaret pulled away from me and frowned. "You sound pretty sure of yourself. Are you always that way?"

"No, not really but I'm sure about this," I answered. What was I saying? What if Debra Simmons didn't share the attraction I felt toward her? I pulled Margaret close and felt her thighs rub against mine and her lips graze my neck. We stood there swaying together after the music stopped and the overhead lights came on. I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the same glaring woman. She told us to separate and move on.

"You have to escort me back now," Margaret reminded me. Paula was waiting for us. She said she would meet me in the parking lot and I nodded. I thanked Margaret for the dance and she blushed. As I backed away I watched her whisper something in Paula's ear.

We marched to the parking lot where we were dismissed. It was dark out, but the black mercury was easy to find. I looked around the parking lot for the Volvo before getting into the back seat of the big car. Paula introduced me to her father as Mr. Augustine and the lady beside him in the front seat as Grace, her step-mother.

Mr. Augustine confirmed what Paula had told me about Ned having something else to do. When we stopped for dinner on the way home Paula complained about having to wear her school uniform in the restaurant. I didn't like the attention my uniform attracted either but I was hungry and didn't say anything. The older couple was amenable, telling me to order whatever I wanted to eat. They wanted to discuss the football game, asking if I played and seemed to be impressed by my analysis of why our team lost that day. Paula ate sparingly, enduring the grown-ups conversation, and completely avoiding any verbal contact with me. She let me know that she was in her third year at Speedwell. It was apparent that she looked down on all lower classmen.

Back in the car Paula ignored her father's order that she, "buckle up honey," and slid to the center of the car seat, next to me. "Margaret thinks you're adorable, but she's young and impressionable. I told her I would give you a test to see if you're worthy. But first, can I give you some personal advice?"

"Sure," I said, willing to listen to her advice as long as she was sitting close and not treating me like a ninth grader.

"Learn to dance," she whispered into my ear. I could only nod my understanding. Her hot breath was tingling, and for a second, I thought I felt her wet tongue slip inside my ear.

"I have a plan," I whispered back, almost choking on my own words. I was afraid to ask what kind of test she was planning to give me. Grace turned her head and looked back at us.

"We're just talking, mommy," Paula said to her step-mother. Grace turned her head to the front without commenting that Paula was not buckled up or about the derogatory 'mommy, ' remark.