Obsessive Love Disorder

20

October 18, 1996
Billy

"Jesus fuck, Stu? How fucking hard is it to match colors?"

"How the hell was I supposed to know the difference between peach and apricot?! They're both fruits!"

I roll my eyes and pull Charlotte in closer to me, and she looks just as peeved. The drive from my house to the school is only about fifteen minutes, but it feels like it's been fifteen years with how those two have been arguing.

"It's not like you told me what color you'd be wearing, anyway! Did you think I could just read your fucking mind and automatically know what color your dress was?"

"No! I just thought you knew me better!"

I angle my head toward Charlotte and shoot her a guilty smile. I should have just driven her myself, just the two of us. Luckily, she gives me a reassuring look and lays her head on my shoulder as we pull up to the school. It's been decorated with banners and string lights, and I can hear thumping music coming from the gym. Before we can hear any more from Stu and Tatum, Charlotte and I jump out of the car and quickly walk to the school, eager to get away from that small car.

Inside isn't much better, to be honest. There's enough people to cover the entire floor of the gym and enough lights to give all of us a seizure; on one side, a long banquet table presents packages of chips, soda cans, and a big punch bowl right in the middle; on the other side sits a photographer and her equipment as she snaps photos of couples and groups of friends. I wonder if Charlotte would want to get a picture at some point.

My eyes wander across the sea of dancing bodies, wearing all colors of the rainbow and sporting different hairstyles. In the center, a large group gathers in a circle for what I can only guess is some sort of dance-off. Couples and smaller parties of friends dance casually on the outskirts or lean against the walls holding food and drinks.

Suddenly, I feel Charlotte's arm grip tighter around my elbow. "Are you okay?" I ask, growing concerned. Even in the colorful lights, I can see her face going pale. "Could we... sit down? Just for a minute?"

I brush her knuckles across my lips and start pulling her toward the bleachers. "We can sit for as long as you'd like."

I lead her to a clear spot near the back of the stands where the lights don't hit as brightly and where no one else is sitting. Usually, girls without dates like to sit around here and hope that their crushes would ask them to dance, but it's oddly empty tonight. Good for them, I guess.

"Sorry," Charlotte yells over the music. "I feel like I dragged you here for nothing."

"Why do you say that?"

She sighs and hunches over, the shoulders of my flannel hanging loosely on her like a blanket. "We're here at the homecoming dance, and all I want to do is sit and watch. This doesn't seem like it'd be a lot of fun for you."

I return her sigh and scoot closer, hesitantly placing my hand on her bare thigh. She tenses up a bit at first, but relaxes as I start massaging my thumb into her soft skin. "I promise, this is fun. I like spending time with you, even if it just means people-watching," I say, "Any time spent with you is time well spent."

She fails to hide a smile and leans into me as we turn to view the crowd. The songs rotate between today's hits and the kind of shit my dad listens to, but no one seems to mind. All they do is jump around and dance, sweaty bodies in one massive pile. Sitting around and watching honestly feels way more fun than being a part of all that. I'm not sure how much time passes, but by the time a familiar song comes on, Charlotte's shoulders have completely loosened and she wears a content grin.