32 #2
He twirls me around again, then drops his head lower to mine, whispering deeply into my ear. “You can step on my feet all you want, Love.”
And then we dance.
Waves upon waves of happiness filter through me in rhythm to the band.
I want to keep twirling. I want to keep spinning.
I want to keep looking at Huxley Adams and see my smile on his face while he watches me.
I want his happiness to fuel my own until I never have a bad thought again.
Until all the demons I try to hide disappear because there’s no darkness left.
Happiness is a fleeting feeling that doesn’t like to occur often. So this moment—this light that I’m seeing and feeling—I will hold onto it as long as I can. I will hold onto Huxley Adams as long as I can.
The song ends, and Huxley pulls me back into his arms, just as breathless as I am, as we smile at each other.
“I think we did a pretty good job,” he tells me.
“I agree.”
He kisses my forehead as the singer of the band calls out to the crowd. “Any requests for our next song?”
Huxley smiles at me, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“What?”
He winks and then runs up to the stage, hopping up to whisper something to the singer. The guy nods to the mic, letting Huxley step up to it.
“Hello there.” Huxley’s deep voice carries through the room louder than the band's singer and sends a chill down my spine. I’ve never experienced a voice like his that can make me feel the things he does. But I’m not complaining. “I hope you all don’t mind me taking over for a bit.”
“Just sing already,” a random woman yells out.
Huxley’s eyes widen as he looks at me. “I guess I’ll just sing.”
I give him a thumbs up in encouragement, and he turns back to the band to tell them a song. As soon as they start, I’m reminded of how amazing he truly is. Not only as a performer, but also as a person in general.
He didn’t have to do all of this for our anniversary.
Honestly, I didn’t know it was our anniversary until this morning.
I didn’t even think we were going to celebrate milestones like this.
But Huxley did all of this, this unique and beautiful experience, for me.
And I’ve never felt more undeserving of someone in my life.
Before I can get too caught up in him, an older man, close to 80 but more so in his upper 70s, taps me on the shoulder. He offers me his hand, and I gently give him mine.
“I don’t know how to dance, I’m afraid,” I say honestly.
“You’re young, you’ll learn.”
The man spins me around, and I try my hardest not to step on his feet.
He’s a bit more agile than other people around here, but he’s still slow with his movements.
In comparison to the song Huxley’s singing, we’re barely moving.
But I’m having fun. I’m enjoying myself more than I ever thought I could.
God, please don’t let this feeling fade.
As the song ends, the man spins me away from him. “You’re not too bad,” he tells me.
“Well, thank you for that.”
“And thank you.” A sad smile spreads on his face. “You remind me of my late wife. Felt good to dance with her again.”
My hand comes up to my chest, covering the slight twinge in my heart. “I’m honored.”
He smiles and then slips into the crowd again. My eyes find Huxley’s as he motions me forward.
I shake my head. I’m not singing tonight. There’s no way.
Huxley just smiles at me and says into the mic, “Ladies and gentlemen, would you please help me get my wonderful girlfriend to come up on stage and sing the next song for you.”
The crowd claps, and the woman from earlier speaks up. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Most of us can’t hear anymore anyway.”
I laugh and look back at Huxley. He uses his finger to motion me towards him, and I finally give in.
“I don’t know any songs from this time,” I say as he helps me onto the stage. Huxley calls the guitarist over and whispers something to him. The guy pulls a book from his back pocket and hands it over.
“We just have to hurry before that woman starts throwing chairs,” he says while flipping through the book.
“Wouldn’t surprise me if she could.” We flip through the pages quickly until I see something. “Oh, wait.” I point to a song near the top of the page. “I know this one.”
Huxley hands the book back to the guitarist and tells him the song I picked. Then he turns back to me with determination in his eyes and my smile on his lips. “You got this, Love.”
“Get on with it already,” the woman yells.
I laugh, and Huxley kisses my cheek while I’m distracted. He jumps off the stage, leaving me up here on my own.
In front of a crowd.
To sing.
Don’t freak out.
I take a deep breath and look at the band. The guitarist nods at me, and they immediately start to play.
Everyone starts dancing, and I feel a little bit better after that woman said most of them can’t hear me. But Huxley stares up at me, sitting on the edge of the stage, just watching me. I feel my nerves build all the way up until I open my mouth. And then everything fades.
My body relaxes, and I feel calm—nothing but enjoyment running through me. I wonder if it’s just because I’m singing, or if it’s because Huxley is staring at me. Either way, I’m growing to love this feeling.
I never thought I would be so comfortable up on stage. Being in front of crowds was never something I enjoyed growing up, and when I had to be in front of people, I tried to get it over with as quickly as possible.
This is different, though. This I never want to end.
As I sing the last notes of the song, the small crowd claps for me, Huxley right along with them.
My cheeks hurt from how much I’m smiling, and Huxley looking at me like he’s proud of me only makes my smile grow.
I make my way to the edge of the stage, and Huxley grabs me around my waist to pull me down.
“Once again, I am completely and utterly blown away by you,” he says, holding me tightly to his chest. I roll my eyes, but my smile is permanent.
A softer song starts to play as Huxley pulls me back to the middle of the dance floor. He brings one of my hands up to his chest while the other holds me tightly to him as we sway to the gentle melody. I press my cheek to his chest and feel his head rest on mine.
Nothing could make me forget this night, and I don’t know if anything will ever compare to this experience.
When else am I going to dress up in a specific decade just to go dancing?
When else am I going to go dancing? I never even went to dances in high school, so that alone adds to the special feeling this night has given me.
“It feels like we’re at prom with about 50 chaperones,” Huxley whispers.
I slightly smile and lean in closer to him. “I never went to prom, but I’d still say this is better.”
He pulls me back enough to look at me. “You never went to prom?” I shake my head. “How come?”
I shrug. “No one asked me.”
His eyes widen at that. “No one—no one asked you? How is that possible?” He just stares at me for a moment before he whispers, “The prom queen always gets a date.”
My hands slide up to wrap around his neck. “What about you, prom king?”
His shoulders slump slightly. “I didn’t go either.”
“How come?”
His arms tighten around my waist. “Prom is supposed to be happy, right? It’s supposed to be about dancing with your friends and getting drunk and probably having sex.”
I shrug dramatically, beings I’ve never drank or had sex before. Huxley breathes out a laugh at my response. “My point is,” he leans down closer to me, his nose gently brushing over mine, “you and I have different paths for our lives. We just had to wait for each other to finally take them.”
My heart races wildly in my chest. “I think you’re right.”
If I would have experienced any of this without Huxley, I know nothing would have felt this good. All of my happy moments were meant for him, and I’m glad I waited. Because all of this was more than worth it.
Huxley kisses my forehead and pulls my head back to his chest. I tighten my arms around him, and we gently continue to sway to the music on the best night of my life.