Kelsey’s Dance

The last dance of the school year was almost over. I looked around the
gym…dark lights, crepe paper streamers, kids huddled in close, sweet
embraces. I was more interested in who was dancing with who than I was in
finding a partner of my own.

I wasn’t really sure why I even went. Habit, I guess. Something to do.
It’s not like I was in demand or anything. As far as dances go, I’m Mr.
Sidelines.

I came to the dance alone, like I always did. Occasionally, I’d get my
nerve up and ask some girl to dance with me — usually some shy but
acceptable bookworm — not exactly unpopular — but not one of the stars
of the school either. I danced with them because I had to keep up
appearances. It’s the way the world works.

I’m only 12, but I know for a fact I’m gay. What can I say? When you
know, you know. I dance with girls so people won’t laugh at me. Middle
school is intense. You might as well be under a microscope. If you don’t
do enough of the right things at the right times, you’re branded abnormal
forever. So you put in your time and hope the illusion is enough to keep
everybody happy.

So, there I was on the bleachers, staring at the guys, as usual. It’s
hard to concentrate on anything female when you’ve already seen every guy
out there naked in the locker room. If I had to count the fantasies on my
fingers, I’d need five hands.

One guy in particular kept catching my attention…Nathan. I’d been
watching him all night, trying not to be obvious…and I was pretty sure
he’d looked over a few times at me, too.

He was beautiful.

He had soft brown hair…the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen…a face and a
body I would have killed for. He was dancing with Jennifer Libby, a
cheerleader — an incredible score, since he just moved to town five weeks
ago. Usually, you have to be established with her crowd for years before
you’re allowed the honor of having her press her almighty tits up against
your chest at a school dance. Dumb bitch.

I’d been staring at Nathan for more than a month now in classes —
dreaming — wishing. Knowing it was impossible. Angels like him do not
spend their time with nothings like me. Because of his looks, Nathan was
instantly popular with the whole school. Even some of the eighth grade
girls had been dancing with him tonight. I wondered what he looked like
in the shower. We didn’t have the same gym class.

The music changed, the slow dance ended, and couples broke up — going
their separate ways, talking with friends…scurrying off to their various
corners, talking about the same useless crap they always talked
about…comparing dances, gossiping about who had boners during the
clench. Morons.

I was shocked to see that Nathan was walking straight for me. I sat up
straighter. Tried to look natural. It’s like he read my mind, and now he
was coming over. I wanted to hide under the bleachers. Disappear.
Escape. Anything.

“You’re Kelsey, right?” He smiled at me and held out his hand. I shook
it, embarrassed, trying very hard not to blow our first meeting.

“Yeah,” I managed meekly. “Hi.”

“You’ve been watching me all night,” he grinned. “I must be a good
dancer, huh?”

I felt my face flush.

“No,” I lied quickly.