Say The Wrong Things The Right Way

The dance floor rumbled under the energetic heels and leather shoes. Music guided the movements of the youths, lively rhythm pushing them closer and closer to each other. 

Lonel did not share the entranced smiles on his schoolmates’ faces. 

From beside the snack table, he watched the pleated swing skirts spin high, curling locks bobbing on heaving chests. Punch in his hands, he was wondering what he was doing in the dazzlingly decorated gym hall, among a mass of impetuous students he didn’t even try to like. They were dancing themselves into a universe where nothing was present but the neverending prom night. Their teachers left them early, not caring much about how they spent that night. They could do anything, with anyone. 

And they all lived with the opportunity, without exception. 

Lonel swallowed the last drop of his drink. It made him dizzy enough to miss the trashcan when he tried to throw in his crumpled plastic cup. He didn’t pick it up.

On a night like this, people did not care about who they were or who they should be. They were themselves for a single moment in their barely begun life. And that should have been something to fear rather than celebrate. 

Someone bumped into him as she was spinning vigorously to the music. Not a single apology came up. She looked at Lonel for a second, smudged lipstick glistening on her smiling face before she joined back into the party. 

His knee bounced, feet nervously tapping the rhythm that shook his chest. 

There was not a single good reason why Lonel should have joined. They didn’t get along with any of them. If anything, he was enemies with most. The mere thought of them made his veins blaze, burning his skin from under. 

Still, he dived into the crowd after releasing a long-suffering sigh. 

He had no idea what to do on a dancefloor. That didn’t bother him before, and it wouldn’t bother him now. But it made him stand out even more. As much as the body jungle tried to guide his movements, he couldn’t focus on it. He missed many steps, legs rigid, hands not finding their way.

All the overwhelming scents of a teenage dream conquered his nostrils the minute he tried to blend in. Various kinds of sweats, horrific perfumes, hairspray and fabric softener nested in his nose, barely leaving room for breathing. Even his palm was slick with sweat and hair gel. 

Then, something changed in the air. 

Lonel raised his head, looking for that soothing, familiar scent. Mint and jasmin. Two simple things reminding him of raven locks in the sun. Of skin as soft and brown as his mother’s precious satin dress she saved up for months. Of laughter and smiling hazel eyes. 

Of childhood and peace. 

“You’re dancing,” Odena said, making Lonel realise she’d been standing before him in the flesh. It wasn’t a question, as she rarely asked anything. Just like before, just like back then. Her curved and plumped body hugged with a red-white dress changed, the subtle makeup on her face popping out as something new and foreign. Her hair too might have been in decorative curls, — but her smile was the same as five years ago. Lonel could have recognised her anywhere, no matter how much time had gone by. 

“Not really. Just trying to insult those who do.”

A light chuckle left her burgundy lips, one he could hear out from every noise. She walked up to him, much better at gliding herself to the melody. 

“In that case, you’re doing a great job.” 

Odena reached for his hand when the drums began to fasten, signalling how the music was coming to its peak soon. When her fingers slid into his palm, he pulled her closer and for the first time that night; he tried to perform tolerably. 

It wasn’t a tender and slow music, though it had its moments. Dynamic drum assisted the slight electronic base and the unique tone of the singer. Odena dictated an unforgivable speed, forcing him to follow her lead, making her spin and smile and click her heels to the vinyl floor more times than he could count. 

She laughed when Lonel bent her for a second, not breaking their eye contact. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m doing here?”

They broke apart, moving in sync yet separately. 

She’d been glowing with life as she watched him, waiting for the answer. Lonel was in their backyard again, playing grown-ups who went to a party and hating every second of the dance practice. 

He shrugged, spinning her again under the playful lights. 

“You’re back, and you’re here. Does it matter?” he offered, tone indifferent. She moved back, and she came to the celebration. What that meant, Lonel wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if he should have cared after the last time.

Odena raised one brow, rolling her eyes, then throwing back her head while she put her hands in the air along with the crowd. 

“You haven’t changed,” she chuckled a shade darker.

She put her arms around his neck, not even blinking when he did the same around her waist. A familiar warmth with a familiar scent. Only now a constant, smouldering anger shaded it. It wasn’t her fault, he knew that, yet he wanted to blame someone. It always went easier that way. 

“I heard you fought with someone on my behalf last year.” Odena scoffed, her perfume overruling every other scent in his nose. “Call a fucking ambulance’ That's what you said after beating up and leaving the poor thing before the school?”

“Where’d you hear that?”

The rhythm slowed, and with that, the people calmed as well. This time Odena shrugged, her curls jumping from her shoulders. 

“Everywhere. It’s nice, though. Knowing you’ll have my back even when I leave you behind without a word,” she said, her eyes never leaving Lonel’s. There’s been a sudden itch in him to pull away, but his urge to stay close seemed to conquer it in a heartbeat. “I'm sorry, Nel.”  

How long has it been? That name, coming from those lips. Her voice deepened and smoothed. It wasn’t as high and child-like anymore. It did not sound as if she was about to cry or scream from the bottom of her belly. No, it didn’t sound like anything before, yet it sounded exactly like her. 

Lonel noticed only then how his nerves calmed. 

“We were kids. Forget it.” 

Odena hummed, her eyes searching. The stare she carried matured, but hid that mischievous little girl-glint all the same. With a few minutes passing, she cocked her head and picked up some of his locks, her lips disappearing as she held back a smile.

“You’ve got no help, I assume.” Her voice came out as a chuckle next time, but she collected herself quickly. Her finger began arranging his hair, while they somehow kept up with all the dancing. 

And that was it, as it always has been. The comfort he sought, the warmth he missed. The face he couldn’t take his eyes off. Words he wasn’t ever thinking about tiptoed onto his tongue, intruding like unsought advice. All the things that happened since she went away seemed like an old movie, one whose tape just burned away when he saw her here again. It might have been selfish, but he didn’t care. 

Until she leaned closer, and he caught the distinct smell of aftershave. 

“Where’s your date?” he asked, throat a touch drier than before. 

Odena finished fiddling with his hair, gliding her hand to his collar. She didn’t look him in the eye right away.

“I don’t have a date, but I got a boyfriend. He’s already graduated from another school. I’ll meet him tomorrow, after lunch. I’d love to introduce him to you, what do you say?” 

He nodded. “Sure.”

The music quieted as the lights dimmed, the song nearing its end. Lonel never cared about anything like prom, the end of his school years or such. But he cared for how he was looking at Odena, a version of her he didn’t know, while he knew it completely. Whatever baggage he was carrying, he could exchange that for a moment of wishing. Wishing, if he could go back to those early days when they were pretending. When there was no tomorrow, only the sweet present.