Serena

T w e n t y

When we enter the gym, I'm taken aback at the amount of decorations Monroe—and the student council—had made this year. I knew that the theme was the "Roaring 20's" but it looks like we stepped right into a Charlie Chaplin movie. Large ostrich feather trees lined all four walls while stings of crystals hung from the ceilings. Though they were fake, it still looked pretty amazing. In the far right corner where the home scoreboard was the concession stand that had been transformed into a speakeasy. Many of the faculty that served as chaperones wore dapper looking suits with bowler hats and fedoras while the women wore elegant flapper dresses and headbands—even our principle was dressed like Al Capone. In the background, a pop song ended and an old song from the theme's decade started to play.

"Woah," I say, looking around at the rest of the décor.

"Okay your school is pretty awesome. My old school in Florida never went all out like this. At most we would have a few posters thrown up on the walls and some streamers," Jake says in awe. He then looks to me, giving me a dazzling smile. "Wanna dance?"

Cocking an eyebrow, I scoff, "To this?" The music, though enjoyable, had a strange melody that I found hard to catch onto. Usually I enjoyed older music and would listen to it randomly in my car, but I've never attempted to dance to it. I believe the song is called "Yes Sir, That's My Baby" or something like that, but its fast and jumpy. "I wouldn't know how."

We look at my fellow classmates who are trying to keep up and half of them look like fools. But then again, they are trying and having fun which is more than what I'm willing to do. "Come on Carter, live a little," Jake says. I sigh though he probably can't hear me over the music and offer my hand which he takes and drags me onto the dance floor.

As it turns out, he is a natural dancer and looks like he actually knows what he's doing where I just try to follow along and manage to step on my own feet. After a few songs though, I start to get the hang of it but then the DJ goes back to modern day pop and I'll admit I'm relieved. Lee, Caroline, Kurt, Taylor, James, and Alex join us and together we have fun dancing and looking like idiots. Soon we are out of breath and head to the speakeasy to get drinks and take a break.

We talk—mostly the girls with the girls and the guys with the guys—and I have to admit I'm having fun. We gush over each other's dresses and where we went to dinner. When I mention Riccardi's they swoon and want details.

"You and Jake are so cute together," Taylor states, and Caroline and Lee nod in agreence.

"Practically perfect," Lee adds.

I can't help but to grin and steal a look at boy who I've allowed become so important to me and admire his looks. He was always handsome of course, but tonight there was something about him that was different—special almost. The way his hair was styled in intricate swoops and curls...how his attire fit him perfectly...I guess he almost glowed with both confidence and something else I couldn't exactly place.

"Oh my God, do you see the way she's looking at him?" I hear Caroline squeal. It's this that makes me tear my eyes away and focus back on the group and I realize by their grins that they must be referring to me.

"Huh?" I ask dumbfounded. "I was just," I begin, but am cut off by Taylor gripping my wrist.

"Do you love him?!" she asks in an excited yet demanding tone.

Love him? That was something I hadn't really thought about before. I thought I loved my previous ex-boyfriend, but the way I felt about him is no comparison to the way I feel about Jake. Is it possible to love someone you aren't even dating though? Was that pathetic if I did? We've only known each other for two months, but if I was honest with myself they have been the best two months of my life in years. It was obvious that Jake meant a lot to me, but how much? I trusted him that's for sure, and that means a lot to me to give that to someone. He was a true friend and so genuine that it's hard to find people like him in the world. He was sweet, funny, caring, protective, strong inside and out, and had a heart of gold. But did this mean that I loved him? The thought of that waitress—or anyone else for that matter—hang on his arm and be his date tonight made me jealous. Was it because I thought no one deserved him or was it something else?