The DJ in the corner energizes the room with some funky new song. The overhead lights dim to highlight the flashes of color from a disco ball. And Gemma wanders in as only Gemma could. Her face is aglow with wonder as she surveys the room, completely unaware she’s the most stunning thing here.
I hold my position by the front door, but I can’t take my eyes off her in a gold dress that glitters underneath the strobing lights. The front half of her long blond ringlets are twisted atop her head in a way that would never need a crown. If ever I were to feel unworthy of her attention, it would be right now. While she looks like a movie star, I’m wearing my work uniform. But it doesn’t matter because I’m a man in love.
It doesn’t matter if she gains weight or cuts her hair. It doesn’t matter if she trips on the red carpet in her ridiculous stiletto sandals. It doesn’t matter if she continues writing screenplays for the rest of her life and never sells a one. What matters isn’t the beauty I see when I look at her, but how she helps me see the beauty in the world around us.
I know when she spots me because her gaze stops roving. She pulls her shoulders back and heads my direction.
My heart jitters, and the scene around us disappears. The throbbing music, the pulsing lights, the hundreds of students smashed against the glass doors, ready to mob us. I really hope they behave tonight so I can just enjoy my time with Gemma.
“You ready for this?” she asks.
“I’ve been ready,” I respond, before realizing she means she’s about to unlock the doors.
A few dolled-up teenagers surround her, their phone apps open to scan tickets and their stamps poised to mark hands.
Before pushing in the bar on the first door and using a hex key to keep it unlocked, she sends me a smile that looks as though she fears it might be the last time we see each other before we’re separated by a mosh pit of students. But I know better. Not only do her students love her and want her to have her happy ending, but as I told her yesterday, I’m not taking my eyes off her.
She unlocks a second and a third door. Teens trickle in slowly at first, then Brock bounds to the center of the dance floor, lets out a holler, and is rushed by the screaming masses.
I didn’t enjoy this scene as a student, and it’s absolutely crazy that I chose to be here again. The only reason I attended dances in high school was for Amber. I wanted to be with her. I wanted what she could offer me.
I’ve finally gotten to the place where it’s not about me anymore. I’m here for others. And Gemma helped me get to this place. It’s time I tell her.
With hands in my pockets, I weave my way to the red curtain backdrop, where Gemma is directing the line of students getting their photographs taken. I can barely hear her over the music, but that’s okay. Being near her is enough.
Her eyes meet mine and she gives an exaggerated huff as if she’s exhausted already. She wipes her forehead and steps back to stand beside me. In unity, we turn our faces toward each other. Maybe no words are needed.
“Miss Bennett,” Samantha calls from the temporary stage, where homecoming queen will be crowned. I know it’s Samantha because she’s still wearing the red bow in her hair, though she’s not in her cheer uniform.
“Gotta run,” Gemma yells over the bass.
I nod. I’m supposed to make my rounds anyway. “Meet you at the punch table?”
She flashes me a grateful grin. I really like this thing called gratefulness. It not only helps us endure situations we never would have planned for ourselves, but it enables us to turn our sorrows into joy. Like Jacob and Esau, who reunited even after Esau threatened to kill Jacob. Like Joseph, who ultimately ended up saving the brothers who tried to destroy him.
Joseph said it best.You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good.God’s here not only to restore what I’d lost, but also to use my specific wounds to help others find healing. From the peace I see in Gemma, it looks as if she’s discovered the same thing. I’d like to think we’ve helped each other, and I’m looking forward to our punch table rendezvous to find out for sure.
I circle past the entrance and catch a kid trying to sneak another kid in by licking the stamp on the back of his hand and pressing it to his buddy’s hand. Not only can he not produce a ticket, but he doesn’t even have a student ID. I shake my head and point the direction of the parking lot. They all glare. But even in this, I’m grateful I caught them before they got inside.
I continue around the dance floor and DJ booth to the quietest corner, where Gemma is sipping punch. I watch her for a moment before approaching. Had she possibly felt this same welling excitement when she looked at me in Citizen’s Safety Academy for the first time?
I join her at the table. “Last time I was at a high school dance, I was dating the girl I ended up marrying.”
She looks up, hesitantly. I hadn’t meant to compare her to Amber. I’d actually wanted to do the opposite.
“Yeah?” So many questions in that one word. “This is the last place I ever expected to see you.”
“Yeah.” I scoop myself a cup of punch and take a sip. Spiked? Nope. No bite. It’s all tropical fruit and sugar. “I like seeing you in your environment. This is where you shine. No tiara needed.”
The beat dies down and a slow song changes the mood of the room to make it more intimate.
The apples of her cheeks round into a smile. “Thanks. I know it’s cliché to say this at a homecoming dance, but I actually feel like I’m coming home. I used to only see teaching as my day job that I needed to pay bills, but now that I’m about to sell my screenplay, I don’t want to leave. I want to keep teaching them to live their own life story.” She nods out at the kids pairing off into couples to sway together.
I’d love to put my arms around Gemma, but there’s nobody here to chaperoneus. Also, she just said she was about to sell a screenplay. Her stories will be coming to life on the big screen. She’s made it. “That’s so great. Congratulations. On both the success and the significance.”
“Mmm …” she says, and I wonder if I’ve lost her to her land of make-believe again. “I like that. Significance.”
I didn’t lose her. She was simply mulling over my words. Which bodes well for me saying more of them. “I met with Amber.”
