Robotica Romantica

chapter one

"This is reminding me of middle school, and I'm not certain I want to be reminded of that disaster," I inform Mia. "Please reassure me and prove that this will be nothing like the middle school situation."

Always cool and controlled, Mia doesn't bat an eyelash. "You are less of a mess than you were in middle school. Well, you're not, but you're a lot hotter now. You should be fine." She applies a sixteenth coat of lip gloss, leaning closer to the mirror. Her mouth is so shiny it's almost unsettling.

"You should limit your lip gloss usage," I advise her. "Dan will not want to kiss lips so shiny. Would you want to kiss a mirror if you were a sensible boy?"

Mia rolls her eyes. "He doesn't have to want anything. I'll kiss him."

"I wish I had that sort of confidence," I say mournfully, reminding myself of the problem at hand. "I hope the middle school debacle doesn't repeat itself."

"You've said this already," Mia says impatiently, giving her reflection one last glance. "How do I look?"

This is a stupid question, because Mia knows exactly how I will respond. We have been best friends since our childhood, and I've always responded with one of four choices: Cute, hot, pretty, and like an attractive young lady. At this point it's ridiculously redundant.

"You look as good as you always do," I allow, and then refocus the attention on myself. I need her assistance more than she needs mine. "I'll probably make an awful scene. I can't be out there with so many males and pretend it's the females I'm interested in."

Mia is now smoothing down the already-smooth skirt of her minidress. "So don't," she tells me, bored.

I sigh and make my way to the restroom exit. Mia follows, unruffled about the fact that she is leaving the men's room in plain sight. No one accuses her of anything. I, on the other hand, must be on the alert.

Here's the thing about school dances. Not only am I awful at socializing, I am also awful at hiding my emotions. As it so happens, dances are a breeding ground for emotions I'd prefer to hide. I don't care much for the trivial drama that occurs so often in high school, but there is plenty of internal drama I wish I could avoid. I'm also slightly traumatized because of what happened in middle school, and I'm frightened that this will only be a repeat. Especially because Niall will be attending. I wish he'd disappear.

Mia struts into the gym with the attitude of Regina George, highly aware of the eyes on her butt. As I know, she has worked hard to achieve its perfection. She has spent many afternoons on the floor of our basement, exercising just the right muscles. And yet, she still manages to shoot a disdainful look at anyone who notices it. I don't understand her logic.

I do not strut into the gym. I stroll, observing the scenery and pretending I'm at peace. There are several brave couples making out in a rather inappropriate manner. There are several other couples dancing to Roses, swiveling their hips in time to the infectious beat. I can see why it's a likeable song. The Chainsmokers and ROZES did well. There are quite a few groups of friends dancing as well, sharing their good spirits without help from the opposite gender. Well, I wouldn't require any such help.

Altogether, it's not such a horrendous scene. If I join the few kids milling about the refreshments or awkwardly pasting themselves to the corners, I'm sure I'll be fine. I might even be able to avoid Niall.

"Enjoy yourself," I tell Mia, and head towards an available corner.

"Don't ditch me, you whore," she calls after me. She clearly doesn't care enough to stop me, though, and finds Dan in the sea of students. I watch her from where I stand for a moment. Knowing what men like interests me, and Mia certainly seems to have a lot of knowledge in that area. Watching her is a great learning tool.