Stay Young, Go Dancing

I wasn't sure whether I should be amused or horrified by her actions. She looked to be in her twenties, well past the age where this sort of... behavior was deemed acceptable, but yet there she was...

The skirt of her loose, over-sized dress had risen up past her waist as she spun in circles, exposing her hot pink panties to whoever happened to be looking. Her long, sand-coloured hair whipped around, the smell of her strawberries and cream shampoo invading the senses of anyone close enough. She was singing too. She wasn't particularly good at it, she knew it too, but that didn't stop her from belting out the words to the song pumping through the speakers. Her friends were all around her, watching her in amusement. They sang along too, only at moderate volumes as they swayed from side to side. Beside them, she looked absolutely insane, but I could see it in her eyes. She was happy.

I adjusted my black Ray Ban sunglasses, for they had been sitting uncomfortably on the bump in the narrow bridge of my nose. I sat back in the blue, fold-out chair I had set up beside our parked tour bus, about half of a case of warm beer on the ground by my feet. I was facing the party, the growing crowd of people dancing and mingling, but I was also facing her. I had been watching her for a while, sipping from my first, second, third, fourth... Well, I had lost count after the fourth, but I had been sitting there, drinking this cheap, warm beer and watching her from behind my sunglasses.

At the beginning of the party, I went to cross the makeshift dance floor to speak to a group of people who were standing by the coolers. I remember all the people who bumped into me while I tried to cross, far too busy with their gyrating to realize that there were people around them and though I was annoyed, I would still turn and apologize before I continued on my way. None of them said sorry back. I don't even think most of them noticed. But then it happened again. It wasn't a very hard bump. I think that it was more her skin just grazing mine because she had stepped back a little too far, but I had still turned to apologize for being in her way. Although, something stopped me as my lips parted to speak. A sweet sort of smell, one that I swear made my mouth water. After a moment's deliberation, I had come to the conclusion that it was strawberries and cream. A scent I could place because it was the same sweet scent that left a trail behind the girl I had been crushing on in high school whenever she'd walk by. I wanted to speak, but instead, I just stared. Then she turned around and amber-flecked blue eyes met with my gold-flecked green, but only for a second before she uttered a soft, "sorry." I could see a few strands of hair stuck to her moistened lip and she reached up, pulling the hair away as she watched me. I merely nodded at her, not knowing what else to say before I continued across the dance floor, bypassing the coolers and making my way to the stack of fold-out chairs by the bus.

There were several chairs that had been left empty, my friends coming and going occasionally. They came wanting to speak to me and I tried to listen, I really did. But as much as I didn't want to believe it, my attention had been completely taken by this girl in the floral dress and cowboy boots, who happened to know every word to every song on my iPod play list. So they merely patted my shoulder as they would get up and leave me to my thoughts.

I was conflicted. I was torn between how I should feel about this girl. At first, I felt indignant toward her for acting so below her age, but after that had dissolved the smallest bit, I wondered if I should applaud her for being so comfortable in her own skin. Without any sign of alcohol or drugs in her system, she was able to loose all her inhibitions, let loose and be carefree. I couldn't even do that after several tequila shots. I was more reserved. Very much to myself. I had always been a quiet boy. Most found that odd, considering my profession, but the hour or so I spent on stage every single night, I was a different person. But only for that hour. Then I'd step off of the stage and return to being quiet John, because that was who I was. I don't know what happened while I was on stage. It was something about the kids, the ones who were willing to spend the money they stood behind a counter and took orders from rude, demanding people and stocked mile-high shelves every single day to earn just to see my band play, screaming up at me and the hot, yellow spotlights beating down on me. There was something about the fact that they were so in love with the words I was speaking to them-- My thoughts and my feelings put to song, it just made me a different person. But it was only then that I was that outgoing person.

She looked like she did it all the time.

I suppose that's what irked me about her. But at the same time, I was... Well, not amazed by her. I was intrigued. So, I just watched.

As the sun began to set behind the clouds, painting the sky with fuchsia pinks and sprays of lavender, more people filed into the empty parking lot. The music was turned up a few notches and the alcohol started really flowing. I tried to act interested when people spoke to me, but every time, my eyes seemed to wander back to her swaying body, paying special attention to her rolling hips. I suppose I lost touch with my gentlemanly side a little bit when I consumed alcohol.

And then, almost like a dream, she turned to me. I had been watching her for so long, my mind occasionally wandering to her in other scenarios with less clothing and maybe a bit more alcohol, that when she finally did turn to me, I had to blink to make sure this wasn’t just some image that my mind conjured up. Her hips were still swaying as she faced me, those deep, blue eyes connecting with mine. Her lips twitched, her movements slowly coming to a halt. The widest of grins spread on her face and I couldn’t help but to admire the way it reached her eyes, creasing them in the corners. She tucked her hair behind her ears and almost shyly, she looked down and then over her shoulder before she looked back at me. She bit her bottom lip, slowly walking in my direction. Her hips swung from side to side, but I could tell that she wasn’t doing it on purpose. The way the skirt of her dress flowed away from her body, the cotton material swayed with every movement she made. She didn’t stop until our knees were almost touching. That’s how short she was, I mean. Even though she was standing and I was sitting, our knees were still at the same level practically.

I stared up at her from beneath my lashes, my curiosity peaked. Now that she was closer, I could clearly see the freckles that dotted the skin of her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her shoulders and her forehead. She had a great smile too. It wasn’t perfect in a traditional sense, for it was clear that she never wore braces, but it was just so… Real, you know? She wasn’t smiling to be friendly or polite, she was smiling because she was happy. Truly happy, and I wanted to know what that was like. I mean, I had my moments. I knew what it felt like to be happy, but not all the time. Not like she seemed to be.

Then, all of a sudden, I found myself wondering what her voice sounded like. Just looking at her, I could almost picture it, but I just wanted to know for sure.

“You’ve been watching me.” It was light, airy and completely feminine. It was exactly what I excepted, but the thing that got me was the fact that there wasn’t even the slightest bit of a question in her voice when she said that. In fact, she said it with such confidence.

I mean, she was right. I had been watching her. For the entire night, but she wasn’t even accusing me of it. She was telling me. Like it was some fact that I didn’t know anything about. Like there was no room for me to argue. Not that I would argue. I couldn’t even come up with anything to say! I just stammered and looked around awkwardly. On paper, words had always been my best friend, but in person? To a pretty peculiar girl? It was like I had had an allergic reaction and my tongue had swelled up inside my mouth. Mumbled sounds were the only thing I could manage.

I looked away from her, flicking the tab on the top of my beer can absently. But then she saved me from my awkwardness, interrupting me.

“What’s your name?” She asked me, tilting her head to the side curiously.

I furrowed my brow at her. She didn’t know my name? This was kind of my party… I assumed that if she was here, she’d at least know who I was. I thought maybe one of the guys had met her and her friends at the show tonight and invited her to the party because they thought they were cute. I mean, they were cute. I guess I never really thought of how she got here. Right now, I didn’t really care, though. The longer I thought about it, the longer I took to finally answer her question. I didn’t want to look like an idiot, having to take a minute to think about my answer when she only asked for my name.

“John.” I said quickly, swallowing the excess moisture in my mouth. I looked up at her, connecting the dots of her freckles with my eyes. “My, uh, name’s John…”

She laughed, the sound as light and airy as her voice. “John.” She repeated, and my gaze shifted to her lips, watching the way they moved when she said my name. “What do you say we get out of here, John?”

Her eyes were shining wildly and I wanted so badly to know what was going on inside that head of hers to make them shine like that.

“Oh, I don’t know…” I trailed off, looking down almost bashfully.

“Oh, come on, John.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her thin arms over her ample chest.

“You can’t be having fun here. You’ve been sitting in the same spot for hours and you’re on your ninth beer!” I looked up at her with a furrowed brow, because not even I had been counting, but she smiled at me, shrugging her frail shoulders. “I suppose I’ve been watching you too…” She trailed off. “So, what do you say?”

I had always been a sensible guy. My mother raised me right, I suppose. I always made the smart decision. But like, walking off with some girl I don’t know didn’t seem like one of my smart decisions, did it? I wasn’t even sure if she was sane, after all. However, that didn’t stop me from reaching out and taking her extended soft, dainty hand in my much larger, much rougher one. I stood from my chair, a little woozy from the beer, but not so sloppy that I couldn’t walk beside her.

“I knew you’d come around.” She smiled, turning away from me as she started walking away from the party. I followed behind her obediently, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I looked around me to see if anybody had noticed me leaving with a girl.

I wasn’t that type of guy, to leave a party with a girl I didn’t know. I didn’t have hook-ups or one night stands. That was all so trashy. So not me. I didn’t want anyone to think that that was what I was doing. I didn’t want anyone to have the wrong idea about me. Luckily, no one was watching. I wouldn’t have to do very much explaining in the morning.

“Lets go back to mine.” She suggested and I started to worry that maybe she had gotten the wrong idea about me. “It’s starting to get chilly and I want to grab a sweater before we go.” She elaborated, putting me at ease.

I was quiet for a moment, just walking along beside her. “Where are we going?” I piped up, looking down at her.

She glanced up at me, then back at the sidewalk ahead of her. She shrugged her shoulders, smiling softly. “I don’t know, really. Just wandering.”

And that’s what we did. Not before going back to her house and grabbing a sweater, of course. It was your ordinary house. Old, white paneled Victorian with charcoal gray shutters. There was a small porch with windows and a glass door. She encouraged me to wipe my feet on the rug before stepping onto the aged, hardwood. Her house was full of tiny trinkets and smelled like old paper. There were shelves full of books at every turn and in the corner of what looked to be the living room, there was a very old record player set up with a stack of records beside it.

“You can look around, if you want.” She smiled at me, holding onto the white-painted banister at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m just going to run upstairs and grab my sweater.”

I nodded, watching as she jogged up the steps, the sound of her feet hitting the stairs muffled by the graying carpet. I wandered to the floor-to-ceiling shelves on the wall in front of me. Different books, VHS movies, pictures and glass trinkets filled the shelves. I wondered if she lived with someone, for the decor seemed far too old for a twenty-something year old girl living on her own. But then again, she was an odd girl who could possibly have an odd obsession with old things.

I smiled slightly at the brass frame, the black and white picture holding a frozen moment from nearly fifteen years ago. A young girl with two missing front teeth and a wilted daisy in her hair. I knew it was her because she had the same little nose and generous dusting of freckles. It was kind of… Sweet.

“John.” I jumped, looking over my shoulder with widened eyes. She giggled, holding up the sweater she had draped over her arm. “I’m ready when you are.”

I glanced back at the shelf briefly, grimacing at the porcelain statue of a grinning cat. Then I turned to her, allowing her to lead me out of the home.

“Those are my gramma’s cat figurines.” She laughed, holding the front door open for me.
I nodded, smiling down at her. “Why do you have them then?”

“I live with her.” She explained, stopping at the end of her short driveway. I stopped too, looking around. Her street was much different from mine. The houses were all much smaller and very, very old. My houses on my street hadn’t been around for more than ten years, where as the ones on this street could have been around for one hundred. Everything was surrounded by trees. Tall, hundred year old oak and evergreen trees, but the only trees I ever saw on my street were palm trees.

“Where are you from?” She asked, looking from one end of the street to the other, trying to decide which way to go.

“Arizona.” I smiled, thinking of home fondly. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and traveling, but I missed it a lot.

“Cool.” She nodded, looking up at me. “So, what are you doing all the way over here?”

“I’m in a band.” I explained, shrugging my shoulders. “We played a show here last night.”

“Really? Wow.” She raised both of her eyebrows. “My cousin forgot to say that before we got to your party. I was wondering why everybody had long hair and wore girl jeans.”

I laughed again, a little bit louder than I ever had in front of her, and I watched her smile out of the corner of my eyes. “Hey now. They make boys’ pants in that fit now.”

She merely grinned in reply, gesturing to her left. “I think we’re going to go that way.”

And I just smiled and followed. No hesitation.

---

It was dark now. She brought me to the local convenience store and bought seven dollars and fifteen cents worth of five cent candies. You know, the kind that sit open on the counter for months, collecting dust with tiny, little fingers wriggling through them all day. I really thought I’d be disgusted if I ever had to eat one, but when she offered me the bulging paper bag, I reached in and grabbed a couple. They were good. They tasted just as good as the ones that come in the sealed, individual packets. Maybe even better. I could just be saying that because she offered them to me, though.

Believe it or not, I had taken quite a liking to her. I learned to like her childish antics. Well, all of her antics, really. She was interesting. Really interesting. Different from any girl I had ever met. None of them would be happy just laying in the field with me, staring up at the sky and eating cheap candy. Other girls wanted romance--What society had told them was romance. They wanted expensive dinners and heart-shaped boxes of chocolates and roses and diamonds. They wanted material objects and for me to tell them how beautiful they look all night. I don’t know. That wasn’t what I wanted. I guess that’s why I don’t really date. I couldn’t stand it how a girl couldn’t just sit and enjoy my presence sometimes. They needed us to be talking at all times. They couldn’t just lay there and enjoy me, they needed to go somewhere and spend money and I had to dress up or else I’d receive an ear full.

She didn’t need all that. Granted, we weren’t dating or anything. We were hanging out, I think. I mean, I know hanging out usually went on between two friends, didn’t it? Or two people that were becoming friends? We could become friends. I liked her enough, but this didn’t feel like just hanging out. I guess it’s because I was kind of, you know, maybe crushing on her a little bit. Maybe that’s why it felt different to me. Because she was different.
She didn’t like me because of my band, or just the fact that I was in a band, like a lot of the girls I had encountered. She didn’t even know I was in a band until I told her and even then, she just kind of dismissed it and didn’t bring it up again. She wasn’t being overly flirty with me either. She wasn’t constantly touching my arm or complimenting my hair, we were having an actual conversation. She was making me laugh so hard that my stomach hurt. She also wasn’t trying to get me to tell her my whole life’s story. She gave me this look, though, that said if I wanted to, she would listen and be interested. She was just interested in hearing whatever I felt comfortable telling her. She wasn’t going to push for anything.

“It’s my birthday.” I blurted, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly when I realized how random this comment was.

“It is?” She looked at me, raising her brows.

I nodded and she was quiet for a moment. I started to feel stupid for making such a random comment. I don’t really know what was so embarrassing about it. It’s not like I told her I had an erection randomly or something like that. I just kind of blurted it out, I guess.

“So, I have an idea.” She said, sitting up. I furrowed my eyebrows, sitting up too.

“What is that?” I asked, staring up at her as she stood, dusting the pieces of grass from the back of her dress. She grabbed her sweater, rolled in a ball and slightly damp from sitting on the ground and pulled it on.

“It’s a surprise.” She helped me up and lead me out of the field, back down the road we had been walking down for almost an hour earlier in the night. We walked for a while, in a comfortable silence, with only the sounds of our shoes on the sidewalk and the sounds of us chewing on the candies we had left over.

We didn’t stop until we reached a house that was in almost total darkness, with only the porch light on. We crept up the driveway, to the gate at the back where she turned to me. “Okay. So, what we’re about to do i-”

“What are we about to do?” I whispered harshly, feeling my stomach tighten nervously. “I don’t like where this is going. Really. I’m not sure thi-”

She grabbed a hold of my lips with her fingers, giggling. “Shut up, John. They’re away and they’ve said I was welcome here before, so don’t worry about it, alright?”

She let my lips go. “Still, I just th-”

“John.” She gave me a serious look, staring very deeply into my eyes. “Trust me, okay?”

Trust me. As in, trust her. This girl I knew hardly anything about. This girl I had only known for about three hours. It seemed so silly, trusting this girl, but something about the way she was looking into my eyes made me kind of, a little bit trust her. Enough to follow her as she opened up the gate and stepped into these people's backyard.

Everything was dark, except the pool in the middle of the yard that glowed a brilliant shade of turquoise because of the little pool lights. I looked over at her with a furrowed brow and she grinned at me, kicking off her cowboy boots.

"You're not thinking..." I trailed off, shaking my head. "We're not swimming in their pool, right? Because that's wrong. We can't..."

"Yes we can, John." She laughed, pulling off her sweater.

I was so set on this not happening, shaking my head from side to side. She was laughing as she pleaded with me, grabbing onto my arm and tugging me toward the water. Then she stood in front of me. I never realized how big her eyes were until the moment she was looking up at me with them wide, her lips set in a small pout. She held my arm in her small hands, her fingers not able to fully wrap around my bicep even when she used both hands. I knew my arms weren't especially muscular, but the fact that her hands were so small made me feel so much bigger.

"Pwease, John?" She said in a sad voice, looking up at me from beneath her eyelashes. Just that look made something stir inside me and before I knew it, I was removing my shirt and jeans while staring into her eyes. She smiled at me, turning away as she reached for the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head, tossing it carelessly to the side. My breath caught in my throat. I've seen a woman naked before, but it had been a while and they definitely didn't look as good as she did from behind...

"Hurry!" She laughed, sitting down at the edge of the pool and slowly sliding in. "It's not cold. Promise."

She lied. It was a bit cold. Not so cold that it was unbearable, but enough to send shivers down my spine. We came here to swim. I wasn't sure why at first, seeing as I hadn't mentioned that I liked swimming and she had seemed to decide we were doing this once she heard it was my birthday. Like it was some special celebration or something.

"I love swimming." She told me, smiling widely. "I like how everything is weightless under water. To me, it feels like the closest thing to flying."

"You could always go on a plane." I said, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "You know, actually fly."

"I'm afraid of heights." She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't actually want to fly, I just like the idea of it. It just seems so... Free, I guess."

I nodded my head, thinking about what she had said. To me, even without the water or flying, she seemed so free. She was just so impulsive, so carefree, so unlike me. She didn't need to fly to be free. All she had to do was be herself. That amazed me about her. A lot of people thought that destructive lifestyles full of recklessness and breaking rules were what it meant to be free. I learned that all you needed to do was to do what made you happy and to learn to find happiness in the simplest things.

"John?" I nodded, shaking myself out of my thoughts. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She laughed and so did I, looking down into the clear water for a moment before looking back at her. "I think, uhm, because... I think I'm going to kiss you."

She stopped swaying in the water, tilting her head to the side. She smiled at me with only one side of her mouth, her brows slightly furrowed. "You are?"

I nodded my head, moving closer. She looked up into my eyes the whole time, not once breaking contact. She never did. She always stared into my eyes. I think that shows confidence, when someone stares into your eyes like that. I didn't even stare into people's eyes.

This was so unlike me. I never kissed a girl I wasn't dating. It was like, an unwritten rule I had, but I guess some rules were meant to be broken, because I couldn't believe how good this felt. Her lips were so soft against mine that I almost moaned. Her small hands were in my hair, pulling it between her fingers. Then her palms slid down, cupping my face. She was on her tip toes, pressing herself to me as we kissed. I could feel her breasts squeezed tight against my chest, the only barrier was the thin material of her bra. My neck hurt from craning down, so I picked her up, letting her wrap her smooth, creamy legs around my waist and now we were level, but...

"Wait-" I panted, pulling away. Her lips were slightly reddened and she looked at me with a dazed look in her eyes. "I-I-uh, I don't know your name."

She laughed loudly, the sound echoing throughout the empty, dark backyard. She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, shaking her head. "I'm Eliza." She said, biting on her bottom lip. "Eliza Fray."

And then she was kissing me again and we were moving backwards so that my back hit the edge of the pool harshly and I grunted in her mouth. Her lips were working against mine in a way that made me dizzy with lust, my eyes rolling back into my head. I wasn't cold anymore. I was so warm that I could even start sweating. I felt her back, my hands running up and down the naked skin, wanting so badly so unclasp her bra every time my fingers made contact with the clasp.

"Before we continue-" She pulled away from me, looking me in the eyes. I wasn't exactly sure what it was we were continuing. I mean, I had an idea. Girls don't usually kiss you like that unless they plan on going farther, right? But no one ever said for sure, so I wasn't sure. "I just want you to know that I don't usually do this. Like, I don't want you to think I'm some sort of... Of... Skank who meets boys and fools around with them in the same day, you know? I actually have a rule against it. But, uhm, I just want you to know that I'm okay." She swallowed, looking at me. "With this. With whatever ends up happening."

And then I started thinking. Aloud, I might add, as I looked into her big eyes. "Maybe this isn't uhm, such a good idea. I mean, it's not right. You have a rule against it."

"Rules are meant to be broken. Isn't that what everyone says?" She smiled the most charming smile, raising her brows at me. At that moment, I was doing everything in my power not to take her right then and there, fighting an inner battle of my own. I always had really high morals.

"But it's not right." I shook my head. "It's not supposed to go like that. We barely know anything about each other. It's wrong, isn't it?"

Eliza's fingertips touched my face and she was still smiling that charming smile. "John, I understand if you're totally against doing this. We don't have to if you don't want to." She explained, nodding her head. "But if the only thing that is stopping you is the fact that someone has told you it's wrong, well... Sometimes it isn't about what's considered right or wrong, you do it because you want to. You know? You do it because it feels right and you want to."

And I did want to. And we did, right there in whoever's backyard this happened to be. The way she kissed me and touched me, I felt like I was on fire. Never had I felt so much passion with any of the girls I had been with before, not that there was many. I never felt the urge to see every part of their body, to kiss every part of their body. We were still wet from the water, the mulch from the garden sticking to our moist skin. We didn't care. It was an amazing feeling to not care.

When we decided it was time to leave, we put on all of our clothes. They were damp from the dew, but we didn't mind. We left the backyard holding hands and returned to that peaceful field and laid on the grass. For the last couple hours, I couldn't help but touch her. Everywhere I could, anywhere she'd let me; which happened to be where ever I wanted. I felt a sinking feeling as the sun started to rise. I couldn't believe it was already morning.

She walked me back to that empty parking lot, which was now actually empty, since the people from the party had retired to their respectful tour bus. I turned to her. She was wearing my sweater on top of hers because she felt cold last night. She went to take it off, to hand it back to me, but I shook my head. "Keep it."

"But it's like, a sixty dollar sweater!" She looked shocked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." I laughed and she smiled. Then we were quiet. We were quiet for a long time. Sometimes, I'd look down at the ground or up at the sky, but every time I brought my gaze back to her, she was looking at me. "This was..." I paused, furrowing my brow as I thought. "This was really great, Eliza." Wow, it felt amazing to say her name.

"It was." She nodded, smiling sadly. "I wish you could have stayed a bit longer."

I did too. I really did. "Can I have your number or something? So I can contact you?"

"I don't have a cellphone." She shook her head, smiling lightly at me.

"...Facebook?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"I don't have a computer either, John." She laughed, rolling her eyes.

"How will I talk to you?" I frowned, looking at her in confusion.

She looked at me in amusement, swaying slightly from side to side. I took a moment to look her over now that she was under the yellow glow of the morning sun. Her hair wasn't neat, like it was yesterday. It was stringy and tangled, but that didn't make her look any less beautiful. She was tired, you could see it in her eyes and smile, but it was cute. She was cute, in her over-sized dress and my over-sized sweater.

"I told you my last name tonight. And I took you to my house." She giggled, walking
backwards away from me. "I know you'll find me, John."

Her last name. What was her last name? My mind went wild, trying to remember what it was. I remembered that it started with an F, but not what it was. It was on the tip of my tongue, I swear, but I couldn't think of it at that moment. When I did finally remember it, when we were well on our way home on the tour bus, I wrote it down on the cover of my notebook. To most people, this would seem like the end. That would be that last I'd see of this girl. But I knew. I knew I would find her. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. Maybe in a year's time, if our band happened to tour there again, or if I found some time sooner to get here myself, I would find her. I needed to. I needed to spend more time with this girl. This peculiar, brilliant, crazy, impulsive, intelligent, wild, wonderful girl.

And when that time came and I found myself back there, I knew she'd be waiting for me inside of her grandmother's house, ready to take me on another adventure.