See Me After Class(87)

“It’s shocking any of the kids still want to come to the dance.”

“I thought the same thing, but despite the restrictions, they still want to have a good time. They want that high school experience, so they show up.”

“Makes sense. So, what do we do? Just watch them?”

“Yup, make sure no one sneaks off. Make sure all sexual organs are covered on the dance floor.”

“Uh . . . what?”

“Trust me, just keep an eye out for unzipped pants. I caught three last year, it’s why Dewitt asked me to chaperone again.”

“And you willingly said yes?”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind helping out. Not a big deal. Plus, Romeo had those tickets and I thought it’d be good for him to go with Stella alone . . . that is, until she invited Cora.”

“So you think Romeo likes her?” I ask, excited.

“He obviously does, hasn’t said anything to me though. Has Stella said anything to you?”

“No. I think she believes they’re just friends.”

“I’m sure that will change at some point. Romeo will figure it out.”

“Hey.” Gunner and I both turn to find Arlo standing behind us. Oh God, he looks sexy. He’s wearing a pair of navy-blue chino pants, white button-up, dark-grey cardigan and a navy-blue tie. His sleeves are rolled up and his hair is styled more sexy-messy than normal.

“Hey, man,” Gunner says casually as my gut twists and turns. “Ready to find some penises?”

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

“No idea. Hey, there’s Dewitt. I’m going to go discuss the game plan with her. I’ll report back.” Gunner takes off and leaves me standing awkwardly with Arlo, whose eyes are burning up and down me.

“You look beautiful,” he says, shocking me.

“Oh . . . uh . . . thank you. You look good yourself.”

He adjusts his tie and says, “I can foresee losing this at some point.”

“Not a tie kind of guy?” I ask.

“Not so much.”

“And I’d have thought you were. You know, since you like your cardigans. Just feels like ties go hand in hand with such mannerly apparel.”

“Hate them.”

I nod and then stare at the space again, that awkward feeling creeping up the back of my neck. I don’t know what to say to him. The thought of talking about different patterns of ties comes to mind, but that would just be embarrassing.

So, Arlo, how do you feel about paisley? Kelvin seems to be a fan of it, as well as short-sleeved button-up shirts. Ever try those?

Lame. Really freaking lame.

Arlo clears his throat and says, “Uh, I think I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I ask, flashing my eyes toward him. Did I just hear him right? Did he say he owes me an apology? Did I step into a weird black hole, or an alternate universe?

“For being a dick,” he says. “You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you, and I’m sorry.”

Uhhh . . .

“Oh, I . . . um, I didn’t know you knew how to apologize,” I say. Good God, Greer, not the thing to say. “I mean . . . Jesus, sorry. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “That’s a fair comment, you know. I can be moody at times.”

“Can be? Uh, how about you are?”

“Are you going to pick on me now, after I apologized?”

“Can’t take it, Turner?”

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Okay, talked to Dewitt,” Gunner says, coming up to us. “We’re going to take the west patrol near the food. Since you’re new and Arlo doesn’t do this often, you’re going to take the north side, where the shy students sit. Look for under-the-table rubbing.”

“Jesus,” Arlo mutters.

“We have two other pairs taking on the east and the south, and one soul who’ll be patrolling the dance floor, which I’ll swap out on. Students know by now if I’m in there, they need to behave, but I can’t be surrounded by sweaty students all night. Hence, the trade-off.” Looking serious, he says, “Do you understand the responsibilities of being a chaperone?”

“Yes,” Arlo answers, exasperated.

“Good, because the students are starting to file in. Get in your places.”

Rolling his eyes, Arlo nods toward the north side of the gym, and we walk over together. “So . . . he takes this seriously?”

“He goes to one hundred whenever he’s in charge of something. Dewitt of course thrives off his efficiency, it’s why she’s always asking him to chaperone. No doubt, we’re here because of him. If he asked us, though, I’d have said no.”

“Lucky for you Nyema asked.”

“Yeah, I can never say no to her.”

We position ourselves at the north end of the gym just as kids filter through the doors. Some go straight to the photobooth, others go to the food, and the brave ones head straight to the dance floor, where the music revs up.

“Did you ever go to your high school dances?” Arlo asks.

He seems so relaxed, especially for someone doing something he doesn’t want to do. I’m thrown off. I wasn’t expecting for him to apologize, and I wasn’t expecting him to be nice, either. That’s why I was begging Stella to come take my spot, because I really didn’t want to deal with a cranky Arlo making snide comments all night.