Transcendental Book Two (Working Title)

The Party

Michael by Franz Ferdinand

https://open.spotify.com/track/5NQQyIX2DVsiBKwRBBUfNW?si=Z2vgQjFKSXmNO7xsbjSb6w

The party was in full swing when we arrived. It was a gated community and in a cul de sac, the neighbors were already at the party. So there was very little chance the party would be busted.

I pulled my truck up into the grass with the rest of the cars littering the cul de sac lawn of the surrounding grounds. Michael was wound tighter than a drum, partially excited, partially freaked out. When he saw how massive the party was, with crowds of people milling around, I began losing sensation in my fingertips. I nonchalantly extracted my fingers from the vulcan vise grip and opted to put my arm around his shoulder instead.

This should prove to be entertaining. I was feeling full of myself, so I knew I was going to have a good time. The key would be to get Michael to relax enough to have a good time, that may be a bit more difficult, but I was feeling up to the challenge.

We headed in through the main entrance. I held Michael's hand and practically had to drag him in behind me. As we entered I spotted quite a few teammates, some of them fist pumped the air when they saw me or yelled "Yo De Luca!" I acknowledged them with a fist bump or just a nod. but I didn't stop to chat, tonight was about Michael, and I seriously doubted that he was interested in hearing football shit since he had just found out, that I have lately been finding myself getting pissed during practice at teammates. And, well, it caused a weird vibe. When Michael would go onto the field, they began to mill around him, and tackling was a nogo. They would just kinda run at him then roll off of him before hard contact. No matter how much the coach screamed. No one would full on tackle him. Not gonna lie, that had me laughing.

I leaned over to Michael so he could hear me above the loud music," let's make a round see what's what, then grab a couple drinks and check out the DJ if there isn't anything else that grabs your interest."

Michael was looking everywhere wide eyed, the music was blasting, inside dance lights were strobing. He nodded to me and was grinning, eyes sparkling excitedly. He looked amped up and it seemed like the nervousness was disappearing as he began to realize that it was so crowded and everyone was involved in their own thing. People weren't worrying about us.

I dragged him through the crowd, taking lead, parted the crowd like Moses parted the Red sea. I spotted a cooler in a back corner, someone trying to be slick no doubt. I snatched out two IPA's, popped them, and handed one to Michael.

After making our rounds and saying our hellos we found our way to the dance area, it was lined with tables around the edges and we started making our way over to one. I was actually looking forward to hitting up the dance floor and I was good at it. We scooted in through the crowd and made our way to a table by the dance floor to put our drinks down. Michael went to sit down and I took his hand and pulled him over to me before he had a chance , he looked a little panicked and I laughed. I danced with tons of chics that couldn't dance to save their soul. I knew I could still make it look good. Michael was in good hands, I leaned to his ear and said "Just trust me and relax baby, enjoy yourself."

He smiled up at me and nodded, his little dimple fastened firmly to his cheek.

Dancing with Michael was surprisingly not as difficult as I had anticipated. And he very quickly started to loosen up and enjoy himself.

The heat of packed bodies combined with dancing built up quickly, I had already taken my jacket off. I took my tank off shortly after, shoving the end of it into my back pocket.

I fanned my face with an exaggerated gesture at my hotness, when Michael raised his eyebrows at me questioningly, though I mainly did it just because I enjoyed stares of admiration for my tight cuts and washboard abs.