What My Church Never Knew

“Frances,” Terri said from her spot next to me. I finally glanced up at her, realizing that she had been saying my names multiple times. I had been distracted with the fringe of my dress; boredom had set over me long before Terri had sat next to me 10 minutes ago.

It was the church’s youth dance, they had one every month. It was for the church youth to come together and meet other kids with the same faith. They thought it was better to meet our future husband or wife at a young age.

“Why do you think boys never ask us to dance?”

I stared at Terri for a couple seconds, her natural look of innocence taking over her face.

“Because,” I said looking back at the people around us. Chairs were against the walls in a circle shape, dance floor in the middle, like always. “I’m scary. And… well, you look scared.”

Terri nodded in agreement looking back at the slow dancing kids. They always slow danced. The music was calm so the dancing was. Even the slightest attempt of excited dancing was frowned upon. So everyone was forced to do the same slow dance with a conservative length apart. It was quite boring, really.

“I can’t wait till this is over,” I mumbled just as a short boy with sandy blonde hair came walking toward us, a brave look on his face.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked gesturing his arm in front of me.

I shook my head. “No thanks. But I’m sure Terri would like to.” I motioned to the small girl next to me.

The boy nodded before sticking out his arm in the same gesture he had just done to me a few seconds before. Terri shot me a glance that looked between excited and frightened all at one. I gave her an encouraging nod back and motioned for her to follow him..

I watched as they walked to the middle of the dance floor and began to dance in an uncomfortable position, mimicking the rest of the dancers.

After 10 minutes of staring awkwardly at the couples on the dance floor I took the liberty to leave, walking across the wood-floored church hall and slipping out the door.

The sky had turned an orange color as the sun was starting to set. The air was cool and fresh and I felt relief on the skin as the heat from inside washed off of me.

I was about to turn the corner when I saw two people standing by the side doors. It was Mr. Wellers, one of the dance chaperons, and a boy around my age with messy brown and light freckles all around his face. Mr. Wellers was scolding at the boy with great distaste while the boy just stared at the flustered man with a blank expression.

“I told you, Mr. Chambers, when you and your family moved here that I expected you to follow the rules and expectations of our community. Now I don’t think your parents will be very proud of you that you decided to dress so disrespectable, especially when you are about to meet your church peers.”

The boy just shrugged, not seeming to take in anything Mr. Wellers was saying. I stared at the boy taking in his attire that was apparently utterly appalling to Mr. Wellers. He was wearing dark, loose jeans that had ripped holes at the knees and a loose shirt with what I figured was the name of a band on it. All this together was a complete no-no for the church community.

I thought this was a cue to leave, since it seemed as though their conversation was going no where and I didn’t want to seem as though I was ease dropping.

So I wanted back to the front of the hall, sitting on the steps boredly and waiting for my mom to come.