Bathe in Color

100. Paris Wills, Age 17, December 21, 2019

Gray and I step onto the dance floor hand in hand, pushing everyone out of our field of vision so that it's only the two of us. Of course, Lady Gaga's "Just Dance" blasts through the speakers the moment we find our rhythm amidst the sparkling blue strobe lights. I know it's only a coincidence that none other than Lady Gaga is our first song, but it makes the night feel even more special.

While Gray and I groove to the beat, I take in all the lovely decor. The high school gymnasium is decked out in white paper streamers and sparkling snowflakes dangling from the ceiling. A disco ball hangs over the dance floor and shimmers onto us like glistening silver confetti raining down from the sky. We're immersed in a euphoric dream, captivated by the effervescent light that hangs transfixed in the air.  All the poetry in this world couldn't describe how magical this moment is.

When the song ends, Gray and I leave the dance floor to find a table. A few students who know Gray from Chicago rehearsals offer us two open seats at their table and we gladly accept. All kinds of cyan-colored candies circle the icy centerpiece. I snatch a blue raspberry lollipop and suck on it while Gray fetches us some punch. He returns with two mesmerizing cups of frosty arctic blue liquid billowing with white smoke. Gray hands me a glass and we each take a hesitant sip, puckering at the strange yet tasty flavors of strawberry, pineapple, and lemon mingling on our tongues. The smoke dissipates and I catch Gray's piercing green eyes even with the indigo tint of the dance floor blinking like a broken traffic light. His eyes send an uncontrollable shockwave through my bones.

Soon, the faculty calls students up by table for dinner. Our table is called first, and Gray and I each scoop a delicious helping of lasagna, garlic bread, and caesar salad. Over our meals, we chat with the students at our table. Gray does most of the talking, but I chime in every once in a while. It feels nice to chat, especially since I've only spoken to Sabina and André over text these past weeks. We answer questions about our relationship, none of them carrying that we're both guys. I wish everybody was that accepting.

Halfway through our meal, Gray mentions that I'm considering becoming a stagehand for Chicago. I grow anxious, afraid they'll say it's a bad idea. Instead, all of them applaud the idea and say I'd be a welcome addition to the drama department. A deep red blush overcomes my cheeks, hidden by the fluttering blue lights.

After we finish eating, the DJ spins Christmas hits, old and new. There's only four more days until Christmas, and it's the first time I've looked forward to the holiday in a long time. At home, a glittering Christmas tree strung with blinking lights of every color is surrounded with dozens of shiny presents. Nessie, my dad, and I put it up, along with all the other Christmas decorations, last weekend. It's the first time we've put up the Christmas decorations since before my mom died. My house finally feels like home again.

The students at our table invite us to join them on the dance floor, and Gray and I happily accept. The energy is infectious, making it impossible for any of us to hold back our ecstatic smiles. There's something magical about the Christmas season that lifts everybody's hearts.

In the heat of our dancing, Gray cups my sweating face with his pulsating fingers and pulls me in for a sultry kiss. The bass booms in my chest and every hair on my body sticks up, my senses awakened by Gray's mouth crashing into mine. When he pulls away, hot sweat drips from our lips. I grab at his tuxedo jacket and pull him in for another kiss, aggressively pressing him into me so I can taste him on my mouth. The dance floor turns into a vibrant green, accentuating the radiant hues of Gray's breathtaking eyes. I'm trapped in a tractor beam and can't get out of his intoxicating gaze.