“The Spring Dance.”
Mr. Ferguson started the class by first silencing them with a clap emanating from his stack of books slamming down on the table. He dusted off his hands casually and sat down in his chair complacently.
“Uh, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” I interjected, holding my hand up high for the whole class to see. “We’re, well…an all boys school…?”
“A common question.” Mr. Ferguson allowed, shrugging it off casually. He got up and walked over to his podium, “Has anyone heard of the Chicago Girls Academy?”
Everyone’s hands shot up except for mine.
“Well, every year, the Juniors and Seniors get to have a Spring Dance where we merge with the Chicago Girls Academy. This way, the school board gets to dodge complaints that their sons never got a ‘proper high school experience.’” He lectured, sounding less than enthusiastic. Before he could answer any more questions, he fetched some flyers from his desk and started to pass them out to the class. I grabbed my flyer quickly, scanning it over.
“The dance is March 1st. Technically, it’s not even Spring. But no, Mr. Ferguson, the one who’s been working here for 10 years has no place to judge.” He said, probably mimicking some school board official. “Obviously, you’ve probably never even met most of the girls in the Chicago Girls Academy. So, later today, they’ll come up here from downtown and you’ll be able to fraternize and do your thing.” He shrugged, “Just no inappropriate behavior. Okay?”
I heard a series of quiet “no’s” from Parker who sat directly in front of me. I couldn’t help but raise my hand once again. Mr. Ferguson called again on me again and I blurted out my question, “Why are we just hearing about this now?” I asked, still a bit frazzled from the new news.
“Complain to the school board about that.” He shrugged, returning back to his desk. The bell rang suddenly, making me jump almost out of my seat, “Now have fun being teenagers!” He said as soon as we all started to shuffle out of the classroom, “Use protection!”
---
“So, who are you bringing to the dance?”
“Huh? No one.” I answered Parker uneasily. Not only did I not have the patience or desire to do this, I was a girl.
“Party pooper.” He snorted, “Well, Alex, who’re you bringing?”
A pang of jealously ripped through my chest. It was an odd feeling having to feel that sting for somebody other than Kale. But, for some strange reason, this time it felt greater…much greater. However, an oddly large weight was lifted from my shoulders as he admitted, “Probably no one.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Parker grimaced, “God. Maybe you two should just go together.” Parker joked, sending a pang of electricity through my veins. I could practically feel my face redden at the sheer thought.
I heard a chuckle, “Har har.” Alex snorted, flipping some hair out of his eyes.
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I'm Obviously A Girl. But none of you idiots have to know that...
Teen FictionEveryone has their own obsession; 16 year old Samantha Stone's is Kale McCann. But how could she not? He's beautiful, funny, sweet, nice--and totally not interested. Plus, when he moves to Chicago in pursuit of an all boys' aceademy, Sam feels like...