You may be witness to flailing limbs, hip swings, and full-body shakes. Best to keep a six-foot distance from Jordan at all times for safety purposes. Good luck.
(Sign at your own peril.)
I watch Jordan shake his head around, damp hair waving wildly. He may be crazy on the dance floor, but his confidence only adds to his attractiveness. He looks far too good tonight in his khaki slacks and white dress shirt with a pink tie that matches my rose-colored dress. His loosened tie flops around his neck with every movement. It’s as if he absorbs whatever song is being played.
I laugh and back up as he dances toward me.
“Come on, Paige. It’s your song!” he shouts over the music.
I put my cup of punch on the refreshment table, careful not to spill any on my high-low dress, and glare at him playfully. “Please tell me ‘Y.M.C.A’ is not my song.”
Jordan throws his head back and laughs. “No. Trust me, when I find your song, it’s going to scream ‘Paige Devons.’”
He snatches my hand, and before I know it, his gravity pulls me in, and I’m dancing with reckless abandon. The jerky movement we’re doing has no name, but I look around to see that we’re not the only ones doing it. My friends and their dates are all mimicking Jordan’s movements, and I think it’s safe to say we’re all buzzed from Jordan’s energy.
I find it hard to believe we’ve only known Jordan for two weeks. Between his insta-bromance with Colton and Miles and the way he quickly earned Ji’s and Missy’s stamps of approval, it’s as if Jordan was a founding member of our friend group and not the new kid we just met.
The song switches into one of those not-fast-but-not-slow songs—the ones no one knows how to dance to. Well, no one except Jordan. He grabs my hand with one of his and puts the other on my back, and I fall into step with him as we circle the dance floor and make people laugh with our antics.
It’s so easy with him. Ever since the chalk fiasco, we seem to gravitate toward one another. We find each other in the halls and at lunch and after school just to talk about meaningless things or to people watch or share a new song. It may have only been two weeks since I met Jordan, but I can already tell he will be a permanent fixture in my life.
The DJ starts another song, and I notice the dance floor is thinning out. “Everyone’s leaving,” I tell Jordan.
“Do you want to go?”
I shake my head enthusiastically. I’ve never stayed this long at a dance before—Ian always wanted to leave early—but tonight has been the best kind of distraction. I’ve even managed to forget about Ian several times, which is saying something considering the number of tissue boxes I’ve gone through since the breakup. I look into Jordan’s warm brown eyes and feel the pure joy radiating from him. No, I don’t want to go home. If the rest of the night with Jordan is anything like the first part, I want to soak in every last moment.
“Then let’s shut the place down, Devons.” Jordan smiles then twirls me out to the center of the dance floor and spins me back in before we do some weird rendition of the shopping-cart dance.
During a pause between songs, Colton pops over with his date to tell us they’re leaving. Jordan and Colton do a handshake with all the snaps, and I wave goodbye before Colton and his date exit the dance floor. But I don’t miss how Colton finds Missy in the crowd before he leaves, glaring at her with unfiltered disgust. When I check Missy’s reaction, her stare is just as potent.
Jordan leans over to me. “What’s that about?”
“I have no idea.” I think about the past couple of weeks, how Colton and Missy have been increasingly cold toward each other, and try to figure out what went wrong, but my thoughts are disrupted by the gentle notes of Journey’s “Faithfully” streaming from the speakers. The painfully familiar lyrics remind me of the one boy I’m trying to forget. The boy who broke my heart.
Jordan takes me in his arms and we start to slow dance, but the song is like an iron fist crushing my insides. This was our song, Ian’s and mine. Before he kissed Olivia and destroyed our relationship, I played this song in my car for months, dreaming about our future wedding and the cute babies we would have.
Ironically enough, it turns out Ian wasn’t so faithful.
As if the song had conjuring powers, I spot Ian himself a few couples over, and it’s as if he’s betrayed me all over again.What is he even doing here? He’s never stayed this long at a dance before.A tear slips from my eye, and Jordan follows my gaze to where Ian and his date shuffle back and forth in a slow circle, Olivia’s face resting on his chest.
But Ian isn’t looking at her, nor is he cuddling her back. He’s staring directly at Jordan and me. A muscle in Ian’s jaw jumps, and his eyes are tense and dark. I get the impression he’s not glaring at me so much as he is at Jordan.
I look away before another tear flows down my cheek.
An obvious threat lingers in Ian’s stare, but Jordan just pulls me closer, calming me with his presence. “If you could chooseone pump-up song that would guarantee that everyone in this room would get up and dance, what would it be?”
I shift my thoughts from Ian and look up into Jordan’s sincere eyes as he eagerly awaits my answer. I seriously consider Jordan’s question. It’s part of a game we’ve started playing this past week, trying to find the perfect song for the moment or the people around us.
This one is easy. “‘Can’t Stop the Feeling!’”
He laughs. “All right, Devons. Justin Timberlake it is.”
For just a moment, Jordan lets me go to jump onto the riser and say something to the DJ before leaping back down and sweeping me into another slow circle.
When the song changes, sure enough, it’s “Can’t Stop the Feeling!” Everyone around us peps up, and several students abandon the outskirts of the room and gravitate to the center of the dance floor, throwing their hands in the air and letting the music sweep them away. My mood instantly lifts, and I laugh and smile up at Jordan. He did this for me—just like he saved me from my Homecoming invitation humiliation or how he hid my tears from the rest of the student body. I can’t help feeling that even though I’ve lost Ian, I’ve stumbled into something greater with this new friend.
Jordan and I go crazy, and soon our friend group and the remaining dancers on the floor have gathered with us in one energetic ball in the middle of the dance floor, sending the night off with one last hurrah.
