The (Not so amazing) adventures of Max

Thirty-Third Entry: The Dance that Went Wrong

Saturday, October 14 – Hospital Room

I'm in the hospital. Yeah, you read that right. I'm writing this from a hospital bed, and I can't help but think, "Of course this would happen to me."

I thought last night was going to be the night I finally had a normal, fun, non-disastrous time for once in my life. But nope. That would've been too easy. It's like the universe has a personal vendetta against me.

So here's the deal. The dance was actually going really well. I mean, really well. I was on cloud nine, dancing with Alyssa, actually laughing, talking with people, just... not worrying about being the loser anymore. Alyssa was great. We were having a blast. I even stopped caring that I was probably the only one at the dance who didn't have a date before the night started. No one was laughing at me. No one was making jokes. Everyone was just enjoying themselves.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I thought, "Hey, maybe things are turning around for me."

And for a little while, they were.

But then came the disaster. The thing that's now going to make me the laughingstock of the school again.

It started when Alyssa and I were on the dance floor. It was actually kind of perfect—the music was good, the lighting wasn't terrible, and we were just having a great time, talking and laughing. Then, for some reason, the DJ decided to switch the music to a faster, more upbeat song, and everyone started going wild, like they were ready to break the floor with their moves.

I wasn't prepared for that. I've never been a dancer—sure, I can move around in my room to video game soundtracks, but this was different. People were spinning, jumping, doing backflips—okay, maybe not backflips, but you get the idea.

And me? I was in over my head. I tried to keep up, but I ended up tripping over my own feet, and in some sort of cartoonish moment, I ended up falling into one of the punch bowls. Yeah. You read that right. A punch bowl. And not just any punch bowl, but the one that everyone had been dipping their cups into all night.

It was like something out of a slapstick comedy, except it wasn't funny when it's happening to you. I splashed punch all over the place, and it soaked into my suit, and I'm pretty sure I knocked the bowl over. So now, I'm standing there, soaked in punch, while people start laughing and pointing. And Alyssa—Alyssa, who I thought was having a great time with me—just stared at me, frozen, before she finally said, "I... I think I'm going to go find some water for you."

And then she walked away.

No joke. She just walked away.

I stood there for a minute, like, "Okay, this can't be real." But it was. I had ruined the night in one embarrassing move. I tried to laugh it off, you know, trying to save face, but honestly, it was just a blur after that. I could hear the laughter from people around me, and some of the other guys from my class were calling out stuff like, "Nice move, Max!" and "You're really killing it out there!" with that mocking tone that makes you want to disappear.

Alyssa didn't come back. I looked around, trying to find her, but no luck. So, I figured I'd head to the bathroom to clean up, and maybe—just maybe—I could salvage the night by pretending nothing had happened.

But that's when things really went south.

As I was walking through the hallway toward the bathroom, still drenched in punch and trying to look as chill as possible, I slipped. Right in front of a huge group of people who had gathered around for some reason. I guess I just didn't see the wet spot on the floor, but I went down hard. Like, my legs went out from under me, and I hit the floor so hard that I ended up slamming into the corner of a wall.

And that's how I ended up here, in the hospital. With a sprained ankle, bruised ribs, and a seriously bruised ego. I'm pretty sure I heard some people laughing as I was being helped up, and honestly, that's probably the part that stings the most.

Now, I'm sitting here, trying to figure out how everything went from "This is going great!" to "Now I'm in the ER, looking like an absolute idiot" in a matter of hours.

I keep telling myself it was just a freak accident, that things like this happen, but I can't help but feel like maybe I'm just cursed. Like no matter how much I try to change things, no matter how hard I try to get out of the "loser" category, something always pulls me back in.

At least my friends came by to check on me. Ben, Lo, Leo—they were all there, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. Ben even said, "Dude, you've got to stop trying to be the center of attention." But Lo, surprisingly, said, "It's a good story, at least. You'll get sympathy points when people hear about it."

Yeah, right. Maybe in a few years, this'll be funny. But right now? Not so much.

I'm probably going to be the joke of the school for the rest of the year. And Alyssa? I haven't heard from her since she left me after the punch incident. I don't think she's coming back anytime soon.

But hey, at least I'm in the hospital. Not like I was going to have the best night ever anyway, right?

At this point, I just want to go to sleep and forget this entire night ever happened.