She was waiting for him,
the pretty girl from the cool crowd,
as he stepped off the soccer field
after a Monday practice.
Would you like to go to the
Sadie Hawkins dance with me on Friday?
He wasn’t allowed to date.
He was only fifteen.
I’ll ask my mom!
He sprinted to her waiting car.
How foolish, he thought, as he was running.
(Ask my mom. Sheesh!)
Yes, I can go to the dance!
His buddy gave him a crash course on how to dance.
But the pretty girl from the cool crowd
ignored him all week; not even a single glance.
By Friday morning, he was confused.
Were they going to the dance together or not?
She stopped at his locker at noon.
Pick me up at six.
His friends said they heard she asked him to the dance
because he was the captain of the soccer team.
She collects captains.
He said people don’t collect things like that.
He brought flowers and a ceramic dolphin to her house.
Her mom and aunt gushed over him.
But the pretty girl from the cool crowd
just tossed the flowers on the table.
At the dance,
his buddies were lingering at the door.
They hadn’t intended to come to the dance.
They were looking out for him.
He danced for half of the first song
with the pretty girl from the cool crowd.
Then she wandered off with her cool friends
and crawled up onto the bleachers with a boy.
As they kissed throughout the evening,
he hung out with his buddies by the door.
They were apologetic, but it wasn’t their fault.
They had warned him.
It seems that the pretty girl from the cool crowd
really had asked him to the dance to collect a captain.
But why?
Perhaps to write about it in her diary.
He wasn’t sure what to do when the dance was over;
his mom was supposed to drive her home.
In the bleachers, she kissed her boy one last time.
At the exit, she grabbed her captain by his elbow. Let’s go.
In the car, his mom was all smiles and enthusiasm.
How was the dance? Did you have fun?
By they were silent, each pressing against
opposite windows in the back seat.
At her home, the pretty girl from the cool crowd
thanked his mom for the ride.
Driving off, his mom looked at him in the rearview mirror.
I don’t want to talk about it.