Sue and I got home soon enough after working that night to be late for Kati’s farewell party. Kati was my older sister who was being forced to go to college in pursuit of a law degree by our mother. She’d never wanted to go to college, or at least not to be a lawyer anyway. Instead, she wanted to go travel around with her boyfriend and his band of alternative rock grungies. Well, all I could think was that at least she’d have some fun before she found him with one of his “biggest fans”.
“Dakota Louise Riley, you’re late,” my mother said sternly as I entered the foyer. I glowered. Oh, how I hated when she said my full name. Maybe, if she wouldn’t have named me Dakota Louise, I’d feel less hatred for it. Maybe, but probably not.
“Sorry. It was really busy tonight,” I said, running upstairs to change. A few minutes later I was coming back down wearing a white ruffled sleeveless blouse with a pleated red plaid skirt and black high heels.
Sue was already knocking at the door when I got down there and we both headed to the back porch, passing some people standing around in the kitchen and living room. “Wow– crowded,” she said, grabbing a soda from a cooler nearby as we scanned the mass of teenagers dancing to rock music. “Your sister has more friends than I thought.”
“Yeah, me too.” My felt my flirt meter rise at the sight of all the hot guys around. We shared a delighted smile before jumping in with the crowd, flirting with every hot guy and dancing with the ones who were capable in actually moving in a way related to dancing.
It occurred to me that most guys, or at least the ones I had an unfortunate pleasure of being near, were clueless on how to dance in a way that was safe. I mean, some of them would thrust out their arms and legs while keeping their body stiff as a board. I tried hard not to laugh aloud as the saying ‘White boys can’t dance’ came to mind. After the song ended, I discreetly excused myself from the dangerous thrusting-limb-guy and ran away when he wasn’t looking.
When the party was calming down, I skipped up to snatch myself a soda when I heard someone call my name. I turned around and saw my other two best friends Sue and I had known since kindergarten, standing over at the end of the nearly empty snack table. Dale was the shorter and more muscled of the two at five foot ten, his dark brown hair extra gelled tonight no doubt in hopes of catching some cheerleader’s attention. His cinnamon eyes crinkled as he smiled at me, his mouth stuffed with pizza bagels.