Zachary Rawlins: The Anathema

“Right,” Alice said, biting her lip and nodding. “This is weird. Because I have already done this before. But I do feel those butterflies, you know? And you only get those when it’s the first time.”

“It’ll be fun,” Rebecca urged. “Go.”

“Yeah,” Alice said again, staring at Michael. “You gonna be alright?”

“Sure, I have weeks of Survivor recorded and Diet Coke. What else could I possibly need? Now, now, don’t worry about me, you go on…”

Eventually, Alice worked up the courage, and Rebecca soaked in the novelty. She had never seen Alice need to work up her courage to do anything.

Michael was more predictable. He listened to Alice, at first with a suspicious glare, that turned gradually to disbelief and then to stupefaction. His mouth hung open, while Alice continued, looking as nervous as if she had never talked to him before. Michael hesitated for just a moment after she stopped talking, weighing his options, before he did the obvious thing and handed his grill duties over to the bemused Mr. Windsor. Rebecca felt a subtle sense of deja-vu, watching him put his arm around her, cautiously, as one might pet a dangerous dog in a friendly mood, and walk out with her, off into the night.

She sighed and told herself she felt happy for her, happy with them, all of them. No one talked to her, because she did not want anyone to. She went back inside to look for her jacket, still hopeful of catching the next bus back to the Academy, home in time to miss watching the party wane, and the couples move closer and closer together, an instinctual reaction to the night. She found her stuff sitting near the edge of the dance floor. She practically tripped over Eerie on the way, but the smile the girl gave her in passing, so fast she almost missed it, made it all worthwhile.

“Come on,” Eerie said impatiently, pulling Alex by both of his arms. “Don’t be a baby.”

“I don’t know how,” Alex protested, dragging his feet. “I’ve never danced before!”

“Alex is stupid,” Eerie said fondly, pulling him close. “This is a slow song. You don’t have to do anything but hold me.”

And so he did.