15. Make it Weird (Part 2)

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She's leaning against the farthest counter, and whispers, "Until the other girl is here, I'd feel more comfortable staying downstairs. Not that the boys are untrustworthy or anything, it's just that... they're teenage boys. You're a pretty girl."

"I got it, Mom, but really, you don't have to worry about that with them." She opens her mouth to say something else, but I beat her to it. "It's okay, though, Mom. I get it."

"I hope I'm not being too embarrassing," she says.

I smile. "You're not."

She picks up her phone from the counter behind her. "How about now?" she asks, pressing her thumb to the screen. Upbeat pop music—I think it's called "Shut Up and Dance" but I don't really listen to this, I'm more into indie folk with small exceptions for pop—starts playing through the Bluetooth speaker in the living room, and fills our house.

"Yo," I hear Moth exclaim.

"Maybe now," I say. I hurry over to the doorway to see what the boys' reactions are. Moth is dancing in his seat as he pulls a second piece of pizza out of the box, and Thatcher his nodding his head along with the beat. Our eyes meet and he smiles at me. All is well.

I turn back to my mom. "It's okay, I guess."

"It's a dance music station. Snow Ball is just around the corner, right? And there are two boys in the dining room."

"Okay, now you're being too embarrassing," I say before walking back to the table.

"My mom put on a dance music station for Snow Ball prep," I say to the boys once I take my seat again. "She can be so lame."

"I heard that," she calls from the kitchen.

"Mom!"

Thatcher laughs. "I guess we could use some practice before the real thing."

"Do you go to the school dances?" I ask, but my interest sounds way too obvious. "I've never been to one," I add.

"I went to homecoming freshmen year," he says.

"With who?" Again, my interest sounds way too obvious.

"I just went," he replies with a shrug.

Moth is still dancing. "Stag, nice. Yeah, I love school dances. It's the last time we'll be able to go out dancing in nice clothes for maybe ever, so why not go all out every time."

"Really?" I ask. "You like dances?"

"Not like, love."

"Why?"

Moth stands up and starts into some almost robotic hip hop moves that, in my opinion, he's actually pulling off. Who knew Moth was a good dancer? "Cause I've got the moves, dude," Moth says, still dancing. "No, but seriously," he continues, sitting back down. The song ends and another one comes on. This one I know: it's called "Castle on the Hill" by Ed Sheeran. "I love anything that forces people out of the perspective they're always in and gets them out of their own heads. Acting is like that, but so are school dances. We are all dressed up, it's dark, the DJ is killing it, and we're all jumping and moving, most of us, without a care in the world. People get way too in their heads, but dance shakes us out of that and just lets us have fun."

"Do you ever go with anyone?" I ask. I don't feel as weird asking him about stuff like this, because it's not for me, but for Patti. Still, it sounds too forward, so I cover myself again. "Or is that not freeing enough for you?"

"No, dude, I've been with people before. I can go alone or with someone, it doesn't matter. It isn't less freeing, it's the opposite, actually. When you don't care about what other people think and just be yourself, it inspires the people around you to do the same. If someone around you is already being weird, then you can blame them if you start to feel too self-conscious. That's my job."

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