Fools Rush in(81)

Somehow, though, the rush of surprise and pleasure that I’d once gotten from being near him was absent tonight. The voice that usually defended Joe was getting a little quiet these days, and I was having trouble reconciling what I thought about Joe to…well, to how he was.

I glanced around the room, suddenly feeling a little awkward, standing there alone amid all the kids. Maybe I would go to the ladies’ room and give my bra a tug. Couldn’t hurt. I walked in that direction, careful not to twist an ankle in my high heels. As I glided cautiously, I spied a familiar figure…tall, lanky, graying brown hair. Sam!

His back was to me, and he was talking to another chaperone whose name escaped me, though she had been at Jill’s party. I stood politely to the side for a minute, waiting for them to notice me. Just as it became uncomfortable, the woman said goodbye to Sam and gave me a little wave.

“Hi, Sam!” I said. He turned around.

“Hey, Millll…” was all that came out. Sam stared at me like he’d never seen me before, mouth slightly open, looking rather stunned. His eyes traveled down and then up, and I couldn’t help giggling. I spun around so he could see the whole dress. His breath came out in a rush. “Wow.”

“Did my dad pay you to say that?” I asked, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Millie, my God.”

“Thank you. You’re too kind.” Even though it was just Sam, the thrill of being openly admired washed over me. “Okay, close your mouth. What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t cool enough.”

Sam gave his head a little shake. “Sorry. Okay. What did you say?”

“Why—are—you—here—Sam?” I asked again, over-enunciating the words as if he were hard of hearing.

“Oh. Randy Lynch got appendicitis. Danny asked if I could fill in at the last minute.”

“Oh, great! For you, I mean, not for Randy. I just saw Danny and Sarah. Did you take lots of pictures?”

“I sure did.”

We stood there a minute. As the music pulsed, more people ventured out onto the dance floor. It was funny to watch; you could tell that all the girls had practiced for hours in front of the mirror, they moved with such grace and precision. The boys, on the other hand, danced as if they were being poked with an electric cattle prod, sudden, spastic movements of long limbs and jerking heads.

“Did you have fun at your Lighthouse Dance?” I asked, dimly remembering Trish primping much as I had today.

“Oh, sure. Did you?”

“I’ve never been to one before.”

“Really? How come?” Sam asked curiously.

“Because, dummy, I was fat and hideous and awkward and there was no boy on earth who wanted to be around me. Don’t you remember?” I gave a sharp laugh, irritated at having to revisit my gawky adolescence for a second time.

“No, Millie,” Sam answered slowly, looking at me gravely. “That’s not how I remember you at all.”

His words caused an odd wiggle in my knees, and I looked away abruptly. My cheeks felt hot as I surveyed the crowd. A chaperone couple joined the dance fray, braving the heaving bodies to do their duty.

“Do you have a date?” I asked above the noise.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Too bad Carol dumped you.”

“I dumped her, kiddo.”

“Of course you did, honey. My mistake.” Sam laughed and shook his head. “So, Sam, what are you going to do next year when Danny’s at college?” I asked, hoping belatedly that it wasn’t a painful subject.

“Actually, I was just thinking about that myself. I thought I might try to finish my degree. I just have a couple courses to go. Then I’m thinking about getting a master’s in criminology.”

“Sam, that would be great! Good for you!”

“Well, you know, I’d finally have the time. It would be good to finish, too.”

“That is just fantastic, buddy.”

Joe appeared at my side. “Hey, Sam!” he said, shaking hands.

“Hi, Joe. Beautiful date you got there,” Sam replied.

“You bet. The prettiest. And hey, pretty woman, you want to dance?”

I glanced at Sam, who gave me a wink. “I’ll take pity on you later,” I called to him as Joe led me onto the dance floor. The DJ was playing a nice slow song by Norah Jones, and Joe pulled me close against his warmth.

“Dancing always makes me horny,” he whispered into my hair.

“Joe! Shh! We’re chaperones!”

“Hmm. Want to duck into the AV room?”

“No, you dope,” I laughed, but it was with an edge. “Behave yourself.”

We danced for a minute or two more, and I watched the kids swaying around us. Danny and Sarah were nearby, Sarah’s eyes closed, her cheek on Danny’s shoulder. So beautiful. I glanced over at Sam, who was standing in the classic cop stance, feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at me and smiled, and I gave him a little wave.

At that moment, Joe decided to kiss me—a pretty intense kiss, too. I pulled away as best I could with his arm around my waist. “Joe! Come on! We’re chaperones! We can’t make out on the dance floor,” I hissed.

And then it came to me. That unmistakable taste of alcohol. Not wine. Something else.