Leading Ladies Anthology [FEATURED STORY]

@TaureanDelight - Retraced Steps

He noticed me in middle school. Or maybe it was I that really noticed him.

That cool December night I walked into the gymnasium of the middle school to attend the Winter Wonderland dance my mother forced me to go to when I was in the eighth grade. The room was decorated in white draping cloth, and silver tinsel with the intermittent twinkle of gold fairy lights. I remember thinking it looked like sixth graders decorated it. And since my sister was one of the ones that helped, I knew they had.

Once inside, I stood on the side closest to the outside door. My steps carried me just far enough into the room to give the illusion I was in attendance and participating. However I wanted my escape to be quick and unobstructed so the spot I chose near the door was the best of both worlds.

The friends I had in the room were all on the dance floor jumping and wiggling to the music. A couple moved more successfully than the others. My sister was across the room, smiling and laughing with her group of friends.

I stood there with a cup of punch, given to me by Mr. Grainger when he hoped to convince me to move further in the party. I was watching my best friend Elsa dance with Freddie Moore when suddenly I felt someone stop next to me. I looked to my left and found Oswald Humphrey.

Oz, as he preferred to be called, came over and stood next to me. He said nothing, just stood there. And every time I inched to the right, trying to keep space between us, he would close it instantly.

I wanted to scream at him to go away. To go back across the gym and back to his friends that snickered every time he moved. I couldn't do that though. I couldn't yell at him like I wanted. It would've drawn attention to me and I didn't like standing out too much. To always float in the middle was I worked to keep myself on the social hierarchy of Helena J. Brown Middle School. I made straight A's but was never the nerd. I ate lunch with the popular kids but partnered with the outcasts and the invisible in classes. I played it safe. I could still be seen as normal as long as I continued to do so.

When I heard my name called out behind me I jumped. I turned and found my mother hovering in the doorway. The smile that I couldn't hide relayed my relief. The sentence of forced socializing was over; it was time to go. I go let my sister know it's time to go and it's as I move past him on our way to the door that Oz finally speaks to me.

"Hey, thanks for the dance."

With the sudden sound of his voice I stumbled over my feet. As I catch myself and stand in place, caught between Oz to my back and my mother and sister before me, I'm confused for a moment by what he said. But then I consider how we moved.

One, two, three...one, two, three.

In an odd way we had danced. My first dance with a male that was not my father was jumble of steps and slides where I ran and he chased.

I wish I'd known then that would become a pattern for us.

But at the time I thought it funny so I laughed. First at myself, then at him when my laughter surprised him, making him suddenly shy. As I looked over my shoulder at him still laughing, he looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. When my laughter subsided we just stared at each other for uncounted moment of time.

"You're welcome," I said before I turned to face the exit again.

I could feel the weight of his stare as I walked out of the gymnasium to my waiting mother.

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About Leah

Howzit? I'm Leah. A divorced mother of two. Holder of a bachelor's and a master's degree that are currently gathering dust. And the quiet one at the table. I always felt better letting my words on paper talk for me. That wasn't always the best approach so I learned to open my mouth when I needed to.

I started writing young; as an eleven year old fifth grader I learned I had a knack for stringing words and phrases into something people liked. Well my teacher showed my when I the prize for the best St. Patrick's Day story and my classmates agreed with her after hearing it. I have been writing ever since. There are droughts. that longest lasted years. There are periods of doubt. However the words still find their way to the page. I hope that will always be that case.

My story blurb...

In which she remembers how it all began.

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