Despite the disaster on the last attempt, Operation Drag Mel Out of the House was still in full swing. Through the intercouncil network, Nina got an e-mail about a gay and lesbian Post-Valentine’s Discount Dance, which was being held at a school in Half Moon, about twenty minutes away. She hadn’t so much as asked Mel as kidnapped her, going so far as to get Parker to switch shifts without her permission to make sure she was free.
So now, a week after the encounter with Avery, Mel found herself in Nina’s SUV, parked outside a strange school. Nina was busily fixing her lip gloss in the driver’s side mirror.
“Okay,” Nina said, putting the gloss back into a neatly packed makeup bag. “If we go in together, people will think we’re a couple. Which is no good. So, how do we play this?”
“We go home.”
“The e-mail said that tons of people showed up for the last one.”
“Uh-huh.”
“What’s the matter?” Nina asked.
“I just don’t like crowds … of strangers.”
At first when they got their tickets and stood inside the gym, it didn’t really look different from any other dance Mel had ever been to. The usual smattering of people on the floor, bunched up near the speakers, dancing. The spectators’ gallery on the edges. The small groups of people who stood around talking, who might as well have been at Starbucks or sitting on the benches in front of the flagpole on Broadway, since they were seemingly unaware that there was any dancing going on around them. Mel got the distinct impression that everyone here knew everyone else. New people probably stuck out.
“Come on,” Nina said, easing Mel into the darkness of the gym. She was putting on a good show, but Mel could tell from the way she was using her big smile and broad, stewardesslike gestures that she was nervous.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” Nina said.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No. Stay here.”
“Neen …”
“I’ll be right back.”
Mel was left next to the refreshment table. She took a mint Milano cookie and nervously nibbled away at it with her front teeth. She looked around again, this time concentrating on the girls. At least here it was okay for her to do that.
Short hair was predominant, and it came in every style—spiked, slicked, buzzed, swept back. There were a few girls with mid-length hair, some with wild curls. There were two firecracker redheads, one girl with short electric blue hair, another whose short black dreadlocks had a green tint.
There was one girl who was just as petite as Mel, but she had just the lightest covering of peach fuzz on her head. She wore a black mesh top and enormous black pants that hung low around her hips and dragged along the ground, covering her feet and collecting dust. The girl was walking around the perimeter of the room, hands deep in her pockets, with a graceful, even gait, which looked kind of odd because Mel couldn’t see her feet or legs moving much under the huge pants. She floated, in a way, with her chin tucked down and her eyes straight ahead. She occasionally nodded to people along the side of the room.
As she came around in her direction, Mel could see the glint of crossed pieces of what looked like duct tape on her pant legs and the sparkle of an earful of small silver rings. She turned her head just slightly and caught Mel looking at her. She had the quick, appraising glance of someone who was used to being stared at a lot and had long stopped caring about the fact. It wasn’t an unfriendly look—it seemed completely indifferent. Still, Mel felt a rush of embarrassment and put her head down, focusing on the refreshment table.
She noticed that as she had been standing there, she had eaten at least half of the mint Milanos. This only increased her anxiety.
Mel raised her eyes just enough to see the girl continue all the way to the far end of the room. She sat up on the edge of the stage next to the DJ, a girl in a fuzzy, canary yellow sweater. Mel was so busy watching her that it took her a while to notice that a girl with short blond hair was approaching the table. She wore a Wonder Woman T-shirt, a fairly nondescript pair of loose khakis, and those Danish clogs that chefs and doctors wear. Her stride was so determined that for a moment Mel was sure she was coming over to yell at her for eating all of the cookies. Instead she reached into a bowl of SweeTarts and took out two packs.
“Hey,” the girl said.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing over here?”
“Nothing,” Mel said, feeling the heavy weight of at least half a bag of Pepperidge Farm’s best in her stomach.
“I’m Kathy.”
“I’m Mel.”
“Was that your girlfriend with you?” Kathy asked, ripping open a pack and tossing a SweeTart into her mouth.
Okay, so Mel had been watched.
“No,” Mel said. “She’s my friend. She kind of dragged me here.”
The girl appeared to glean a wealth of information from this simple statement. She nodded knowingly.
“Where do you go to school?” she asked.
“Alexander Hamilton.”
“What year are you?”
“Senior”.
I’m a junior.
“No,” Kathy said. “Here.”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“You want to dance or something?”
Actually, Mel wanted to stay right where she was, with the cookies, in safety. But instead she accepted the invitation and walked onto the dance floor.
Nina, who had been hiding in the bathroom, trying to think up every conceivable thing she could do with her hair and the limited amount of makeup she had in her purse, finally emerged. Mel was not where she had left her. She took a quick look around and spotted her dancing with another girl.
She sat down to wait on the bleachers and took her phone out. She went through old messages, played a memory game, checked her settings. When she looked up, Mel was still with the blond girl. The girl was talking, and Mel was slowly backing up toward the edge of the floor. Nina was about to go over and join them when a very young guy neatly dressed in a shirt, tie, and jacket sat down in front of her. Nina was struck by this adorable freshman boy who had gotten so dressed up for a dance. But when he turned around, Nina realized that she was looking at a girl, probably her age.
“Hi,” the girl said.
“Hi,” Nina said. She felt like she should round out her statement somehow, so she added, “I like your tie.”
She did like the tie, actually. It was a dusty rose, cut through with diagonal stripes of blue. It was nice to know that in other schools people other than Devon Wakeman were free to wear ties.
“Are you here with … somebody?” the girl asked.
“My friend,” Nina said. “We just came together. As friends.”
At that exact moment the music made the critical shift from dance to slow. They both turned and looked around, as if the music could be seen.
“Want to dance?”
“Dance?” Nina repeated.
The girl looked down at her tie. Nina tightened her grip on her phone, hoping to squeeze a ring out of it. Across the room Mel seemed to be doing well for herself. Nina watched her heading back out to the dance floor with the tall blond girl.
“Oh,” Nina said. “Dance.”
She said it as if she hadn’t understood the word at first. It would seem a little weird if she sat in the corner playing with her phone all night. Besides, if she refused, would that seem rude? Homophobic?
It was just a dance, anyway.
“Um … sure,” Nina said, tucking her phone into her pocket.
The Girl rose, and Nina followed.
The girl was about three inches shorter than Nina. She held herself stiffly, obviously trying to respect personal boundaries. She was also a rocker, shifting from foot to foot mechanically, like a slow-moving windup toy.
“What’s your name?” the girl asked in a quiet voice.
Nina wondered for a moment if she should just make something up. There weren’t many Ninas in the greater Saratoga area, so if this girl told anyone that she danced with a tall girl with coffee-colored skin and a disco ‘fro named Nina, chances were that someone was going to know exactly who she was.
But then again, she wasn’t going to lie.
“Nina.”
“I’m Alex.”
That was the extent of their conversation. It was amazing to Nina how long one song could last while she danced with someone in total silence. Nina gently tried to steer Alex a little closer to Mel and her blond girl. Mel leaned over the girl’s shoulder and gave Nina a look of total amazement.
When the dance was over, Mel quickly came over and joined Nina, and Alex stepped away shyly and headed for the refreshment table.
“What were you doing?” Mel asked.
“Dancing.”
“I mean, why?”
“She asked,” Nina said. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Mel peered over Nina’s shoulder to the tie girl.
“She’s so cute.”
“She’s nice,” Nina said. “Her name is Alex.”
Mel’s focus was steady now. Tie Girl definitely interested her.
“Who’s that girl you were with?”
“Her name is Kathy. She kind of talks … a lot.”
“Ask Alex next time,” Nina said. “She’s nice, and I don’t think she’s here with anyone.”
Rather than rejecting Nina’s idea, Mel looked hopeful. Then she glanced over at Kathy and bit her lip.
“What do I do?” she said. “I feel kind of… responsible now. For her. I think she wants to stay with me.”
“I’ll free you up.”
“How?”
A good question—with only one answer.
“I’ll ask her to dance.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m completely serious,” Nina said. “I just danced a second ago.”
Kathy was talking to two other girls in the corner. She was going to have to interrupt a conversation and then ask another girl to dance.
It’s for Mel, Nina told herself. You can do this.
When the music was right, of course. Or whenever Kathy looked like she was going to approach Mel again. Whichever came first.
Nina reached up and touched her hair. She looked down at her black miniskirt and the pearl gray sleeveless sweater she had on. She had tried to strike a balance between party wear and casual, but she’d ended up dressing like a paralegal. This outfit was way out of place.
Nina felt like she knew what guys were interested in, but it occurred to her that she had no idea what girls were looking for in other girls. There was the very real chance that Kathy might take one look at her and say, “No thanks.”
What if she got shot down?
“Great.”
The music slowed.
“Okay,” Nina said. “This is us.”
She walked right up to Kathy, who had turned to look around the room, probably for Mel.
“Hey,” she said brightly. “Would you like to dance?”
Kathy seemed surprised by this. She did, in fact, look Nina up and down and take in the officewear.
“Okay,” she said.
It wasn’t, Nina noticed, said with a lot of enthusiasm. It was a pleasant but lukewarm “Okay.”
Kathy and Nina were about the same height. Kathy wasn’t a great dancer either, but she wasn’t nearly as timid. She pummeled Nina with questions about where she went to school and who she knew. By the end of the song Nina had the strange feeling that she’d just been interviewed for something. An inclusion into the local gay and lesbian alliance, possibly. Maybe even a job.
Nina glanced over her shoulder and saw that Mel and Alex were dancing. Their scheme had worked.
When the song was over, Nina hurried out through the lobby and stood outside in the frosty night air. Her brain was reeling. This situation was no longer hypothetical. She had just danced with two girls, who probably thought she was gay—and for good reason. Showing up at a gay dance. Dancing when asked. Asking other girls to dance. These signals were pretty unambiguous.
That was it. She was going to sit in the car, scrunch down low in the seat, and play with her phone for the rest of the night.
“She’s from Albany,” Mel said, rushing out and joining Nina. “Oh my God. Am I all red?”
“A little,” Nina said, managing a smile. It had been a long time since she had seen Mel this excited.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Thanks,” Mel said. “For doing this. I know it has to be weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Nina said, smiling even more broadly to cover the hugeness of the lie. “It’s just dancing. It’s cool.”
“We don’t have to stay….”
“Did you get her number yet?”
“Oh God.” Mel looked thunderstruck. “I can’t. That’s too weird.”
“So ask for her e-mail address.”
Mel thought this one over.
“It feels weird,” Mel finally said. “I feel like I’m cheating on her or something. I know that’s crazy.”
“It is crazy. No crazy talk. Avery’s not here. But Alex is.”
“I saw her on Valentine’s Day. We talked.”
“Who? Avery?”
“Yeah.”
“What did she say?”
“Not a lot,” Mel said.
Nina leaned against the door and sighed.
“That’s good, I guess.”
They both fell quiet. Mel kept staring at the shapes her breath was forming.
“Okay.” Nina stood up straight and adjusted her skirt. “We’re standing outside in the freezing cold talking about things that suck when you could be inside talking to Alex, your hot new girl.”
“She’s not my girl.”
“Not yet,” Nina said, giving Mel a gentle push. “But I have a good feeling.”