Kaleidoscope

i

Prom night. The night where teachers constantly watched horny teens grind up on each other and had to make an effort to stop them. I, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Me and Boris just walked around, him checking out girls that passed us with their dates. Lights flickered from the ceiling, flashing neon lights from the two led strips the gym teacher carelessly through up last night, maybe. "Am wishing I had brought my umbrella, Potter."

"Why?"

"To block my eyes from those big lights, hurts my eyes." Boris winced.

I laughed, "C'mon, follow me."

Boris gave me a quizzical expression, his perfect brown-blackish eyes widening for a second—not that, a split second—at the grasp of my hand, tugging the lanky, abnormally tall boy along with me. The gym was massive, so we covered land very slowly as drug Boris along, and we passed a familiar face, though only I really had noticed.

There she was, tan-faced, her brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail with a beady hair-tie, curled at the end. Her makeup seemed to double tonight, though she still looked extravagant, but not in my opinion, at least. She wore a dress that was pink around her particularly flat bosom and waist, but faded a pale white near the ends, so long it waded onto the dirty gym floor. The white gradient part of her dress had small flannel trimmed butterflies, and it reminded me of the feeling I had gotten when me and Boris danced together that morning only a few days ago, how a kaleidoscope of butterflies paraded their way through my stomach, dancing around wildly. All because of a boy dancing with me.

My mind ran to that boy in an instant. Boris, to be precise. How I hoped he hadn't seen Kotku, his ex. I knew he would be in shambles, especially since he refused that Kotku would even be there. My once soft grip on his hand tightened and I almost dug my nails into his skin. "C'mon, Boris."

Apparently, I did dig my nails into his soft milky-white skin, causing him to yelp and look at me confusedly. "Potter? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just come on." I pulled him over to the bathroom, rushing inside and finally stopping.

"Potter? Are you okay? Are you scared of parties or something? You know, is going to be fine."

I just shook my head. I couldn't tell him, but I couldn't think of a lie. More specifically, one that I wanted to tell him. I couldn't lie to him. If I couldn't lie about who I saw back there, then I would lie about what's wrong with me. "Boris I'm fine."

Boris shot me a doubtful expression, "Like I'd believe that, Potter,"

"I don't want to talk about it! Okay?" I snapped, making full eye contact, though I swore my legs trembled. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Boris dropped the subject, "Okay, okay. Is fine, Potter. You're fine. I won't say anything anymore."

And so, there we were, sitting inside of the dirty bathroom stalls on the floor, next to each other. I just wish it had stayed that way for longer.