coffee shop

6

*Author's note:

The video attached is the last dance mentioned in the chapter! It's called Strip the Willow, and it's my favorite ceilidh dance :) The video is an example from a Scottish wedding reception. It should give you a better visualization of what the dance looks like!

Cheers!

_____

Jo

"Come on, Jo."

I shake my head. "My answer is still no, and it will stay that way no matter how many times you ask."

With a dramatic sigh, Beth collapses on the bed next to me, face to the ceiling. "You can't skip every ceilidh."

"I haven't skipped every one," I defend, eyes still trained on my book. "There have only been two, and there will be more later this semester."

"You skipped the first two, and now you're trying to get out of this one. That's every one we've had so far."

"So? I might go to the next one."

"Oh yeah?" She flopped over onto her stomach and leaned into my face. "Then you won't mind if I get you a date, since you're so sure."

I peer over my book, narrowing my eyes. "I don't need a date to go to a ceilidh."

She stares right back. "You'll have one if you don't come to this one."

We stare in silence for a few moments, then I sigh. "Fine."

She punches the air with her fists. "Yes!"

I roll my eyes as she congratulates herself on her persuasive power. Unfortunately, Beth knows me pretty well, which means she knows that I won't risk going on a painful date with a stranger. If there's anything I hate more than dancing, it's awkwardly stumbling my way through conversations with new people.

Beth jumps up off the bed and runs back into her room. I hear her closet door open and the hangers squeak against the rod. A few minutes later, she returns with an arm full of clothes. "This is going to be so fun!"

The next two hours consist of Beth forcing me to try on different outfits she's pulled from her closet and the two of us getting ready in my room. She's beaming, bursting with excitement.

The ceilidh is hosted by one of the societies at the university and is happening on campus—which means we have to take the bus. We barely make it to the stop in time for the bus. The ride is less than fifteen minutes, but it feels like an eternity. The sun has already gone down, despite it being only 6 PM.

When we arrive, I stand awkwardly at the doorway, trailing behind Beth as she dashes ahead to greet her friends. On top of all the other uncomfortable things, she talked me into wearing a dress. It's pale blue and long sleeved, and surprisingly stretchy and comfortable for a dress. Even though it's plenty long, hitting just at my knee, I tug at the skirt. At least I got my way with the shoes—my sneakers look like they've been through three wars, but I wore them anyway.

The room is full of people. I've never seen so many people excited about dancing—probably because I've never been dancing—but the energy is nice. Girls buzz about the room with drinks in hand, making rounds to say hello to everyone they know. Most of the guys are chatting in big groups, and a rather large percentage of them are in kilts. I don't know what's more shocking to me—the fact that this many guys agreed to come dancing, or that so many of them are wearing kilts and don't seem to be embarrassed about it. I'll admit it. I'm impressed.

Beth comes back over to me, but only to grab my hand and pull me further into the room. She directs me to a table to put my jacket and my phone, then instructs me to meet her on the dance floor. Butterflies spring up in my stomach at that; I'm a terrible dancer, and the last thing I need is to lose a flatmate because I keep stepping all over her feet. Despite my dread and hesitation, I do as she says, but I take my sweet time doing it.