Story (1) - If only he knew [Completed] - Page 2

I found him in the basketball court. What was he doing in an evacuated basketball court on prom night, you may ask.

He was smoking.

Way to go. I seriously am boring him, ain't I?

"Geet?" He asks as he gets up, dropping his cigarette and putting it off with his shoe, waving off the smoke from his mouth.

The music back from the hall is audible although it sounds from a distance.

Some classrooms and the garden and staircases at this moment are chosen to be makeout spots but basketball court, since was opposite to the staff room, although teachers aren't in staff room at the moment, this wing is avoided.

And now, when we are alone, face to face, with nobody asking us to pose for a picture, nobody staring at us, wondering what an odd couple we are, we finally had time to look at each other and let the awkwardness sink in.

"What happened? Are you ok?" He asks.

"I was looking for you" I tell him discreetly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah" he says and takes a moment. "Yeah" he adds although unconvincingly.

I try to reconstruct what might have happened. Did he have a fight with someone or something?

"Why are you here?" He says suddenly breaking my train of thought.

"It's you senior year" I tell him as if he didn't know that. I beat myself up mentally for the lame start but I walk to him resolutely "I was thinking you need one last dance at least"

He seemed taken aback for a whole moment before smiling.

"Thank you" he said. "Do you want to go inside?"

Do I want to go inside surrounded by smoke and bad lights and smell of sweat and hormones? Um no.

"I would, um, prefer if it's here" I tell him and right on cue, the music which we could hear at a mellowed volume in here is changed from a peppy number to something slow.

I give my hand to him awkwardly and he takes is, wonders what to do with his free hand, while mine hovers around and rests on his shoulder tentatively.

He rests his on the small of my back, quite not touching as we move back and forth, back and forth.

"This is awkward" I tell him finally, since between him and I, I'm the one with no brain and mouth filter.

"Yeah" he agreed, "This is very quiet in here. Inside, we won't hear anything not even our own voices"

"So you're telling me it's awkward because we don't have a conversation"

"Yeah, I guess"

"I can try a conversation"

He smiled, that smile everyone in school term as heart stopping.

"Really?"

"Yeah. So um this song, they're playing, how is it prom related? It sounds so mellow, so intense, like it has to be played in a wedding or something"

"Not a fan of Christina Perry, are you?"

"Not precisely. This song unsettles me. If someone is heartbroken, when you're crying, you can't talk properly, forget about singing high pitched songs"

He laughed this time, and I understand what's the whole hoopla about him being very handsome.

"I think this is for slow dance" he reasons slowly.

I scrunch my nose.

"You're not a fan of that either?"

"I'm a fan of old school dances, so I'm an outcast any which way"

"I'm curious"

"Well" I tell him stepping back stopping our awkward penguin movements.

"Have you watched Titanic?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Yeah, everyone watches it. Sorry, so anyway, you know the dance in third class right?"

"The tap dance right"

"Yeah, they dance all over the place, the sort that makes you bounce all along the room and enjoy the beat and still dance together. I think that's my type"

He scratched the back of his head "Want to try?"

And before I could answer, he pulled out his phone to play that music and we both looked at each other, the awkwardness long forgotten.

Oh, what the hell! I think, kicking out my high heels and he grins taking the lead.

And that's how we ended up dancing all over the room, laughing, bouncing, trying tap dance, failing miserably, laughing more, holding each other as we waltzed with due force across the room.

Once the music stopped, our grins aren't faded yet.

We stood there in the middle of the room, smiling at each other.

"Thank you" he said in a hushed whisper.

I nod in acknowledgement and my bangs fall in my eyes.

Pushing them off my face with the back of my hand I grin back at him.

"Chalo, one thing off my bucket list" I tell him.

"Want to go back to the party?"

"Crowd dancing and sweat and loud music again?" He asks deadpan, "Sure, sounds like a delight"

We both laugh and walk towards the party, somehow the walls between us diminishing, or so I had thought.