“If that’s more of your Smirnoff, no thanks,” a sophomore teammate said. “Even a whiff of that stuff makes me want to vomit.”
Lois shook her head. “Bacardi.”
“Is it flavored?”
A nod. “Mango.”
The sophomore sighed. “God, Lois, you have the worst taste in booze.”
But she took a sip anyway.
Shelly and a teammate returned with beers in hand, and some of mine sloshed over the plastic cup’s rim when I felt a hand on my bare back. “Relax, it’s me!” a voice called over the EDM beats and I turned to see Marco slip in between Shelly and me. She planted a kiss on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice. “This sure is a statement.” He gestured to my ensemble and discreetly confiscated my drink. “Did you save any glitter for elementary school art projects?”
“Okay, make no mistake, Álvarez,” I said as he gulped some beer. “This isnotglitter.” I made a muscle for him to admire. “It’sunicornsnot.”
One side of Marco’s mouth curved up in amusement. “Unicorn snot?”
“Yes.” I tried to keep a straight face. “But no unicorns were harmed—”
“Did you hear me, Marco?” Shelly interrupted. “Let’s dance!”
“Yeah, alright,” he agreed as she began tugging him towardthe dance floor. Something in me sinking, I watched him drain the rest of my drink before looking at me. “Come dance.”
With you and Shelly?I thought.No, thanks.
Marco tipped his head, like he knew what I was thinking. “You love to dance. I’ve seen the TikToks.”
My stomach swirled. My teammates had made so many videos of me shaking it on the sidelines during water breaks at practice, and it didn’t help that Dad contributed footage of myAngelina Ballerinamoves after I scored a goal in games. My pirouettes were amazing.
I loved to dance, and to be honest, I really didwantto dance. If I was going to be subjected to this party, I wanted to try to have fun. And to me, fun wasn’t standing around sipping beer with an already tipsy Lois and the other field hockey girls.
Who, I suddenly noticed, had all dispersed in different directions.
“Okay,” I told Marco, not wanting to be alone. “Let’s dance.”
***
At first, it felt good. The dance floor, even if it was in a dark basement with slitted windows that may or may not have made it look like a prison, felt familiar. If I shut my eyes, it was kind of like I was dancing with Connor at our JProm after-party, where everyone had changed into casual clothes. I moved to the music, and every now and again, I reopened my eyes and caught Marco’s.He shook his head and smiled, seemingly oblivious to Shelly grinding against him. I smiled back, a strange thrill twirling in my chest.
But Marco excused himself to go to the bathroom once the song ended, and as soon as he disappeared, I heard Shelly call: “Derek, over here!”
The guy in a PENN STATE muscle tee weaved his way toward us; his blond hair was plastered to his forehead from sweat, but he was cute. Warm brown eyes and dimples in both cheeks. “Hey, Shelly,” he said, beer in hand. “What’s up?”
Shelly introduced me, and Derek drained his drink so he could ask me to dance. “Stay away from Marco,” Shelly hissed in my ear before I took Derek’s hand.
Huh?I thought, blinking to make sure this wasn’t a dream—or anightmare. This night was becoming so twisted; the field hockey girls had scattered, and now, Shelly was telling me to back off from Marco?Marco?“Shelly, no,” I started. “Marco and I, we’re—”
Her next words were like knives. “Fuck off, Madeline. Fuck the hell off.”
Derek overheard us. “Yikes,” he said, then slipped his arms around my waist as if to hold me back from Shelly. “I know we’re in TI, but there’s no need for a cat fight, ladies.”
“Stay out of it, Derek,” Shelly grumbled.
“Gladly!” he chirped, then leaned down and whispered, “Do you still wanna dance?”
By way of an answer, I shook and shimmied myself out of his arms so I could take his hand and tug him deeper into the haze of people.
Maybe Marco would ask where I’d gone; maybe he wouldn’t. But I didn’t want to be anywhere near Shelly while they figured out their shitty situationship—or, even better, their “shituationship.”
