Chapter 15 Most Musical
MOST MUSICAL
The bass vibrates my ribcage as Hardy, Lily, and I move in a little circle at the winter dance.
Music thumps loudly throughout the space of a building that is nearly a hundred years old.
It has hardwood floors, ornate chandeliers and glass windows and doors that lead to a balcony that overlooks a lake.
The classic beauty clashes with hanging cutout snowflakes and a snow globe photo backdrop against one wall.
Not to mention the strobe light that flickers so fast, I’m convinced I’m going to have a seizure.
But I’m having fun—for the most part. The three of us jump and sing to another song before the music suddenly shifts to a slower melody absent of any discernible beat.
“Seriously?” I sigh, under my breath.
This DJ is killing me. We only got two high-energy songs before they played another slow one.
That’s four by my count. Much higher than usual.
Normally it wouldn't bother me so much, but the ballads that used to have Lily and me swaying dramatically and singing at the top of our lungs are now reserved for romantic moments with Hardy. Even though they’re doing their best not to make me feel like a third wheel, this playlist is not doing me any favors.
I force a smile and waggle my brows suggestively at Lily and Hardy before yelling over the music, “Try not to have too much fun without me.”
“We won’t,” Lily yells back, grabbing Hardy’s hand as he pulls her close. Her giggles ring out over the music.
My face falls as soon as I turn around to navigate through the crowd of happy couples swaying back and forth on the dance floor. I’ve done this walk of shame enough times that I’m running out of things to do.
I’ve gone to the bathroom.
I went out to the balcony to look at the sun set.
And I’ve read the placard with the history of this building, thus knowing how old it is.
Now, I lean against the wall and look out at the sea of bodies yearning to hold each other close while avoiding the attention of chaperones who want enough space to fit a ruler between them.
I try to watch all the couples equally, but my eyes keep going back to Lily and Hardy.
They smile at each other as they talk. Lily laughs at something Hardy says.
She melts into his touch. They’re good for each other, and I’m happy for them. Truly, I am.
But I’m also sad.
I’ve been so busy with trying to get Citrus Scholar that I haven’t had as much time with Lily as I’d hoped.
What was supposed to be a senior year filled with epic memories has felt more like death by a thousand paper cuts.
She’s still my best friend, but the last few months have been a slow and painful breakup.
I know things can’t stay the same forever, but I thought I had more time. And if Mrs. Grafton is right, the second semester is going to fly by even faster than the first. The thought is too much.
I turn to find something to drink so I don’t continue to watch them like some overzealous private investigator. And slam into something hard. Well, someone.
“Adams,” the person says in a low, amused voice.
I tip my chin up and see Connor. He’s wearing a deep blue suit but no tie. His hair is slightly less messy than usual but still has enough wave that he looks like himself. And his smile is warm.
“Hey,” I say as I regain my balance.
“Having a good time?”
I sigh. Not really.
My two best friends are slipping away, and somehow Connor became just as important to me while I least expected it. Things are weird to say the least.
Ever since our almost kiss, things with Connor have felt stiff.
He still comes to help me with set design, but we’ve never had a repeat of what almost happened a couple of weeks ago.
It’s been shallow, forced conversations that have left me wondering if I imagined the whole thing because maybe deep down I wanted it to happen.
I. Wanted. It. To. Happen.
What is wrong with me?
Connor and I have one little heart-to-heart about how hard it is to live with our families—and how this scholarship would make things better—and all of a sudden, I want him to shove his tongue down my throat? Are my insecurities so deep and my hormones so wild that my only solution is kissing him?
No, I know it’s not some bizarre coping mechanism. It’s more than that. I like Connor, and not just as a friend. It’s been a slow transformation. One that started at Hardy’s party and has shifted so slowly I almost didn’t realize it was happening.
Until he almost kissed me.
Until I almost let him.
Until I couldn’t stop thinking about what it might feel like.
Until I spent way too much of my savings to buy the floor length gown I’m wearing tonight because it’s light blue, and he once told me that was his favorite color.
I wanted him to see me in it, and now he is. Not only that, he’s staring at me, almost expectantly. That’s when I remember that he asked me something. He’s waiting for me to answer, and all I can think about is what it might feel like to kiss him and if he likes my dress.
My cheeks burn as I try to recall the question, but my brain revolts and thinks about his lips even more. I panic and cup my ear with my hand. “What did you say?”
Connor leans in so his mouth is inches from my face. “Are you having a good time?”
My face burns even hotter, and I step back. Barely resisting the urge to use my hand as a fan, I smile. “Yep. Noel is such a fun Citrus Prep tradition.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as soon as the words escape my mouth. Did I really just say that? I mean yes, I like Noel, the winter dance our school does instead of homecoming, but did I need to sound like Dr. Freck with my response?
Connor laughs. “Yes, Citrus Prep has such unique experiences that sets it apart from other schools. Go Orange.”
I open my eyes to glare at him, but his smile is so warm that all feelings of irritation and embarrassment vanish at the sight of it. I grin back.
“Want to dance?” he asks.
My heart skips a beat then swiftly plummets. I’d love to dance with Connor and wonder if it might force us out of this strange place we’re in, but we’ve been standing here for several minutes. Already, I can hear the shift in the music. “The song’s almost done.”
He shrugs. “I have a feeling the DJ is going to play another slow song. He’s been on a kick.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Right? I don’t know what his damage is, but it’s like he’s getting paid per slow song.”
Connor’s eyes go to the refreshment table.
A thumping, that can’t be blamed on the music, starts in my chest. “Connor, is he getting paid per slow song?”
The music transitions into another romantic song.
He ignores my question and points to one of the speakers. “Told you they’d play another one. Dance with me?”
I narrow my eyes at him.
Unperturbed, he puts his hand out in front of him, urging me to take it.
I place my palm in his as he leads me to the dance floor.
We don’t go to the middle, just far enough so that we’re not on the edge where all the non-dancers can see us as well.
Connor lifts the hand holding mine, and puts his free one on my waist. I imagine it’s a standard dance position from cotillion.
One I never learned since I couldn’t afford it.
“That okay?” he asks.
I nod, but I’m not really sure where to set my other hand or how to move my feet. As excited as I was to come out here with Connor, I’m having doubts it will go how I hoped. I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t know how to dance.”
He laughs. “Just move back and forth.”
“Aren’t you supposed to count to three or something?”
His eyebrows scrunch together. “You want to do the waltz to John Legend?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Stop thinking so hard, for one.” He moves us slightly closer to the center as another couple joins the dance floor. Then, he steps back and forth leading me.
My free hand settles on his shoulder. “So, about the DJ. Did you really pay him to play a bunch of slow songs?”
He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to make sure I danced with you tonight. After I couldn’t find you for the first couple, I got desperate.”
“You could have just texted me?”
“I wanted to ask you in person, but every time a slow song came on, I couldn’t find you. Where were you hiding?”
I don’t want to admit I was doing everything I could to pretend I didn’t care about being solo tonight. “Did you even consider that I was out here dancing with someone else?”
He leans in close. “I did, and the thought drove me crazy.”
Oh. I trip over my feet, and his grip on my waist tightens to keep me from falling.
“But you weren’t. I would have seen you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. So I offered the DJ fifty bucks for every slow song he played until he saw me dancing with the gorgeous girl in the light blue dress.”
My eyes widen. Fifty bucks per song just for a chance to dance with me?
I don’t know if I should be flattered or appalled.
I can’t imagine spending that much to get someone’s attention—until I remember the price tag on this dress.
I bought it just to get his attention. I guess that makes us even.
“Well, now that we’re dancing, does that mean we only get fast songs from here on out? ”
“I think I can afford a few more songs if you’re really that worried about tearing yourself from me.” He navigates us a little closer to the DJ table and lifts up a finger. The DJ salutes him back.
Another fifty dollars just like that. It’s insane, but the way he didn’t even hesitate makes me feel all warm and gooey.
Apparently all my conviction about too many slow songs goes out the window when I realize that they come at a cost. Though I do feel bad for the chaperones.
“Poor Mr. Smith. He’s going to have a stroke if he has to separate any more couples. ”
“He’ll get over it. But I’d really like to not talk about him right now, if you don’t mind.
” He pulls me closer. As he does, I smell a familiar, woodsy scent, one I deeply associate with Connor even though he doesn’t always wear cologne.
In fact, now that I think about it, I don’t think he’s worn it since we almost kissed.
But he’s wearing it tonight.
I fall back on what’s comfortable because I’m afraid of what all this means. “What if I didn’t want to dance with you to another song? What a waste of money.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that would suck. But I think you do want to dance with me.”
“Oh, really? There’s that famous Connor charm again.”
“Fine, I hope you want to keep dancing with me because I want to keep dancing with you.”
I don’t bother arguing. We’d both know I was lying through my teeth. Besides, I can’t let him pay for another slow song because I waste this one. “I do.”
“Then it was worth it.”
I sigh as I lean my head against his chest. I’ve never done this with him.
We haven’t even hugged before, but it feels so natural.
Connor’s arms wrap around my back as he squeezes me against him.
I breathe in his cologne, but beneath that is another smell.
It’s just…Connor. It’s him at cross country practice, or MASE, or theater practice.
Not artificial, just him. I think I might like that one just as much as his cologne.
Smelling it now, wrapped in his embrace, I feel safe. I feel like I’m home.
The thought terrifies me.
Connor can’t feel like home.
He can’t be one of the most important people to me.
We are friends, and I like that we are. I’ve had a lot of fun getting to know him and teasing back and forth these last few months.
But we are still competing against one another.
One of us is going to get hurt in the end.
And even if that wasn’t the case, senior year is almost over.
We’re going to go separate ways just like Lily and me, and it’s going to be even more painful when I have to say goodbye to one more person.
I stiffen in his arms.
“What’s wrong?”
I pull away. “I can’t do this.”
“What, dance? You’re doing great.”
“No, this.” I wave my finger between us. “I’m sorry. I know you just paid for another slow song, but I gotta go.”
Then, I turn and race off the dance floor away from Connor.