After an afternoon to myself, spent dancing and singing and laughing, I was weary. Climbing into bed, I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, the world had changed.
I was no longer in the soft warmth of my bed, surrounded by stuffed animals. I was outside, under the big sycamore, looking across a landscape bathed in silver moonlight. Somehow, it felt right. I could feel the cool night breeze caress my skin, like fingers sliding softly over my body, as I stood in the shadow of the great tree. The bark of the trunk was rough under my fingertips, the gravel hard beneath my feet. It felt realer than reality.
Flinging out an arm, I could feel the muscles stretch. When I arched my foot, I felt it all the way up my leg. Brushing my hand across my cheek, I could feel the nerves tingle. With the knowledge that I could feel, I began to dance. Softly at first, little leaps and gentle arm movements, but as I continued to dance under the umbrella of dark, glossy leaves, it intensified. Soon I was leaping, twirling, my movements faster and harsher. Always I stayed just beneath the leaves, not a drop of moonlight touching my skin. I kept dancing, faster and wilder until I was too out of breath to continue.
That's when I noticed them.
A small crowd had gathered, out in the moonlight, made up of all my friends and crushes. Again, I didn't question it; it didn't seem necessary. I slowly approached the crowd. At the edge of the canopy, I stopped. Hesitating for a moment, I extended my hand, out into the moonlight. Meg, the closest, took it. I smiled at her, glad she had been the one to take my hand. Somehow, it didn't surprise me that no familiar rush of butterflies came at her touch.
Here was not the place for shyness or social rules; it was a place for expression and natural beauty.
"Will you teach me to dance like that?" She asked, her voice somehow as soft and silvery as the moonlight that drenched her skin. "No." I told her, with a voice as mysterious and full of promise as the shadows I was shrouded in. "Dancing comes from the soul. Your dance is different than mine, than his, than hers." Drawing her closer, I placed one hand on her waist, holding her hand with the other, and took a step farther into the shadows. We began to dance, in soft, sweeping circles at first, under the tree. The longer we danced, the more confident she became, and soon she was leading.
She swept us from under the cover of tree, into the moonlight, and I gasped at how beautiful it was. Dancing with Meg, the light did not seem cold; it seemed magical. It played on her warm skin, making her shine like a goddess as she twirled me. I could see as she began to slow, and so took the lead, drawing us back into the shadows. Slowing to a stop, she rested her forehead against mine.
Time seemed to stop as she leaned closer, and when she was but a breath away, I pressed my lips to hers. Tasting of honeyed tea, her lips were incredibly soft, and she released my hand to wrap her arm around my neck. Brushing her hair back, I deepened the kiss.
When we pulled away, she smiled.
Smiling back, I took her hand and led her out into the moonlight. When I released her, she began to dance on her own. I took that as my cue to go, and so took Caleb's hand. We danced until he learned the song in his heart, and began to dance on his own. This continued until they were all dancing out in the moonlight, leaving the shadows to me.
In this dream world, we did not tire, we had no reason to stop.
