Being Shot

P h o t o #51 - To Think The World Of

P h o t o #51 - To Think The World Of

I wiped a thin layer of sweat from my brow, listening as the party went on without me as I ascended a secluded staircase that Zach had directed me to after asking him where the bathroom was. I was grateful that he told me about the master sized one upstairs, first door on the left, the one he knew wouldn't have a line unlike the one on the floor below, but I wasn't entirely sure if I should've broken it to him that I just needed a breather from all of the dancing we had done in the past 45 minutes.

'He sure doesn't know when to quit.' I smiled, remembering the perspiration that glistened on his excited face as we moved to the music, sharing laughs. I couldn't remember that last time I had danced, but I knew I would definitely being doing it again sometime soon.

I thought of the slow dance we shared once the DJ they were renting for the night put on a slower song. Initially I had declined his offer, my eyes skittishly sweeping the dance floor as people began partnering up, but once my gaze fell on the boys - the three besides Jonas, I wasn't too sure where he, nor Kayla, had run off to at some point during the night - as I watched girls practically line up for the chance to ask them for a dance, and after watching as Elliot reluctantly agreed to share one with a tall, freckled blonde with a bright white-toothed smile, I decided it wouldn't hurt to try it. The moment I placed my hand into his, we took off.

I still couldn't believe that just the sight of Elliot dancing with another girl had thrown me through such a loop, but the feeling was washed away once Zach put his hands around my waist and directed mine around the back of his neck.

It was a nice, sweet dance, although I couldn't deny the few times I stumbled and stepped on his feet as he led us both. I remember how he chuckled at my apologies and red face, how he told me I was a good dancer despite it being my first time slow dancing with a boy (I'm sure no one is surprised by that fact by now). The best part of it all was that I didn't feel nervous whatsoever; almost feeling comfortable as we swayed and talked like normal, even if our conversation happened to get interrupted by a couple getting a little too handsy next to us. I couldn't contain my laughter after that one.

My feet halted mid-step. A sudden surge of happiness at the very fresh memory flooded my veins, and my left hand clamped down on the strap of the cutesy leather purse Kayla allowed me to borrow for the night.

I couldn't fathom how so unbelievably proud of myself I was for coming here and actually having fun for once, for putting the negativity behind me and living in the moment for a change. Though it may not seem like a triumph to most, to me it was yet another check added to the mental list of little, humble wishes I had. Something whispered to me, the growing place of hope in the back of my mind, that I could get used to living like this, as long as I was willing to help myself rather than run.

At the thought of helping myself, I suddenly remembered the promise I made with my grandmother almost two weeks earlier. I drummed my free fingers along the staircases handle that was built into the wall, blowing out a low breath as the step I stood on vibrated due to the heavy bass of the music still playing strong.

I lifted my quivering fingers to the short strands of my black locks, feeling them bounce back into their loose curls after each touch. Confidence welled up in my chest, 'I'll call them tomorrow, it's Christmas, after all.' I decided swiftly, noting that the usual feeling of dread that was evident when pertaining to my parents was nowhere to be felt.

Clearing my throat after realizing that I had been standing in the dim stairwell for over a few minutes now, contemplating choices that weren't really of the "party" type, I began maneuvering up in heels I had yet to master perfectly.