Random red-haired guy
bores me
with a monologue about BMX bikes.
I flee to lip-sync to Prince
on the dance floor
with the other Sequinettes,
and later sneak
to the darkest corner of the balcony,
where I impulsively kiss
a friend who’s had a
not-so-secret, secret crush on me.
I flirt with anyone
but my date
pretend to sleep
the forty-minute
ride home,
magically waking
as we pull into my driveway.
Before I can escape,
random red-haired guy
from study hall
who rescued me
from going to prom alone says,
“We’ll talk Monday.”
I know we won’t
because right now,
being randomly cruel
simply because I can
gives me a feeling I like.