“Why don’t you go ahead, Mrs. James; I can run through the audio and lighting tests. If there’s a problem we can work it out tomorrow, before the dance Saturday night.”

“Are you sure, Susan?”

“You said you and Brother John had plans. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then, Susan.”

Moments later the echo of the door slamming reverberated throughout the gymnasium; Susan was alone. At the top of the ladder she flinched involuntarily at the sound as she taped a last twisted strip of crepe paper to the wall. As the echo faded, Susan relaxed--the silence was her haven; she was always more comfortable when it was quiet.

Why did I volunteer for this? she thought as she climbed down the ladder. In a moment her mind flashed to that night, when Michael had broken her trust. Why? It still bothered her, her only friend jeopardizing her future with such a stunt. If it weren’t for community service, I wouldn’t even think about this stupid dance, much less helping set up for it. At least nothing went on my “official” record.

She climbed up the steps to the control booth, and began testing the lights borrowed from the theater department. After starting the lighting program, she pulled a cord from her pocket, using it to plug her phone into the sound system. She selected an Earth Wind & Fire track to start her play list, sat it on the corner of the console and pressed play.

Back down on the floor she took a moment to admire the colored spots reflected from the mirror ball overhead. The music was electric, sending shivers up and down her spine. Closing her eyes she imagined her partner, arm out pointing to her, waiting on her in his Pierre Cardin. She twirled to him, reaching out her hand, her dress billowing out as she spun.

She let herself escape into the music. Singing along with “Boogie Wonderland”, she danced with her phantom partner. Lost in the music, she continued as “Working My Way Back to You” began. As she imagined spinning back to her partner, she was surprised when her hand met another.

Her eyes snapped open. “Michael!”

Michael executed a turn perfectly in step with her as he responded quietly, “You’ve been avoiding me, Susan.”

Rotating through a wheel, Susan met his eyes. “I didn’t know how to react, after what you pulled.”

He let her slide out, catching her hand, and spinning her back in. “It was stupid. How can I apologize more than I’ve tried?”

She turned away, stepping back before facing him again. “You put our futures in jeopardy with that escapade.”

“History is nothing more than a tableau of crimes and misfortunes: disco, bell bottoms, stupid teenage acts trying to impress a girl--”

She stopped in the middle of the floor, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m serious, Michael.”

“If I had been a man in reality, you’d be here baby lovin’ me,” he sung along.

She turned, shaking her head.

“Let’s start again.“ He ran past, sliding to his knees before her. “Forgive me girl. I want you over and over and over and over again.”

“Stop it, Michael.”

He stood up, taking her hands in his, looking into her eyes. “Stop what? Romance? Loving you? Some people are embarrassed by romance, but I love it,” he replied. She tried to pull away, but he held her hand for a moment. “I know how much you like playing music, so it was the best gesture I could think of. I didn’t know the alarm system would be armed that night. Far as I knew they had the stickers on the windows just as a deterrent and never turned it on.” He released her hand as she pulled away again and turned away.

“Look, when we spent every day together, things were good. This month, without talking to you every day--it’s been torture. I’ve played that night through my head every single day, and I’d take it back if I could--just for you to even say one word to me a day.”

Susan set her jaw, looking back at him sternly.

“I told them you didn’t know. And I don’t care what happens to me. What I do care about is you. Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear from a childhood friend, and maybe I’m making it worse, but I can’t live with how it is now.” He looked away. “There, it’s out. I miss you. I love you. Next step is yours. I’ll abide by whatever--” Suddenly he ran for the door, trying not to cry.

“Michael!” she yelled after him, answered only by the echo of the slamming door.

(Word count: 788. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)