Get Me To A Church

CHAPTER 11: CALM

SAL

           Larry put in a Sanity's Fall tape. Ashley, Todd and I were all in the room with him, chilling on his bed or sitting on the floor. Travis was there, too, but he just stood stiffly.

           "What are you playing?" Travis asked.

           "Sanity's Fall," Larry replied.

           Travis scrunched his nose up. "What the hell is that?"

           Larry smirked. "You'll see."

           I knew Travis would have a negative reaction to the music just by the way he was raised; there's no way his dad would've let him listen to heavy metal like Lisa let Larry. I had an idea.

           The guitar chords sounded and Larry grinned at Travis. He knew what Travis was going to react like and he knew that I knew. If he could see my face right now, I would give him the best tired dad expression I could. Instead, I rolled my eyes and grabbed Travis's arm.

           "Come on, dude, let's dance," I said.

           The vocals came in as soon as I was finished speaking like the universe had a sense of comedic timing. Travis's nose wrinkled. "To this shit?" he asked.

           "Yeah!" I replied. "It'll be fun. You don't have to headbang like..." I turned my head. Larry was really going at it. "...Larry is. Just dance with me, bro."

           "Okay..." Travis said dubiously.

           To make him less embarrassed, I did some monkey arms and disco moves. It was incredibly awkward and stupid. He scoffed, then chuckled, then laughed so hard he had to hold his sides. He stood up straight again when he was able, but it didn't stop his cheek-splitting smile. I couldn't help but grin back. He joined in my dancing, doing some really weird grandpa dance. He looked caved-in on himself with tiny little arm movements like a t-rex. My grin went from ear to ear under my prosthetic. 

           Larry noticed our buffoonery and joined in, kicking his legs in some awful version of the Charleston. Next was Ashley, who... well, there's really no way to describe what she did. It was some squat thing that kind of looked like the robot. Todd eventually decided that he, too, would join in on our tomfoolery, and began to do the chicken dance.

           We were all dancing like idiots to a metal band.