Watch Me Disappear

never been to a homecoming dance before, and Paul insists that’s all the more reason to go. I shouldn’t miss out on such an iconic American high school tradition my senior year. I let him convince me, and when he drops me off, I practically float through the door and up to my room. I am going to homecoming with one of the cutest guys I’ve ever met.
     
    *          *          *
     
    Homecoming isn’t exactly a big deal as far as dances go. It isn’t formal or semi-formal, and there isn’t a dinner involved. It’s the sort of dance you can attend without even having a date. Missy thinks that all of us going as a group is a great idea. Paul is going to borrow his mom’s van, and the six of us—because as Paul promised, Hunter and his date agreed to join us—will travel to the dance together.
    Paul picks me up first. He comes to the door with a small bouquet of flowers, a gesture I love but also think is pretty over-the-top considering the fact that, although we are attending the dance together, we both know this is not a date. My mother practically swoons at the sight of him at the door in his neatly pressed khakis and light blue button-down shirt, the flowers extended before him. She takes them for me to put in water, and Paul and I are off to get the others.
    We pick up Wes second, and he’s polite enough, but I can tell he isn’t thrilled that we are all going to the dance together. When we get to Missy’s house, he runs up and rings the bell. We look on as he waits, his back to us, giving us a grand view of his silly haircut and flat butt.
    “Seriously,” Paul says to me. “What does she see in him?”
    I shrug. “He’s nice to her, I guess.”
    From Missy’s house to Hunter’s and lastly to fetch Hunter’s date. Her name is Alison, a junior. I’ve never met her before, but Paul explained to me that all the senior boys have been drooling over her since school started. Apparently she blossomed over the summer, because no one had ever noticed her before. She is teeny-tiny, just barely five feet tall and so thin she might disappear if she turns sideways. She has the look of a baby doll with her enormous blue eyes and soft blonde curls. She seems shy, unable to open up even to Missy’s questions and friendly chatter. I wonder if she’s ever even spoken to Hunter. My experience with Hunter at school is that he is extremely quiet. He participates just enough in class to avoid being called on randomly, and he never comes to study groups. It is hard to picture the two of them carrying on a conversation. Who would start it? Who would keep it going?
    I am so nervous when we enter the dance that I think I might puke. Every morning that week, I considered telling Maura that I was going to the dance with Paul, but I never managed to say the words. She asked on Friday if I was going and all I said was yes. She still had not decided if she should go. Katherine was having a party afterwards, and apparently Maura, Jessica, and Tina, annoyed that none of the guys had asked them to the dance, were thinking of skipping it altogether and just going to the party. I have a strong suspicion that they’ll show up anyway, if for no other reason than to remind everyone that they are the pretty ones, the desirable ones, the ones wielding the power of popularity.
    Popularity is a funny thing. Everyone wants to look like the kids at the top of the social food chain. Everyone wants to be liked by them. Everyone is slightly afraid of them. And everyone hates them and loves to see them fall. There are a lot of people who will be disappointed if Maura and company fail to show.
    The DJ is set up in the gym, and already there are a lot of people—mostly girls—dancing. In the cafeteria, the student council is selling pizza and soda, and the World Series is on the big-screen TV. The Sox didn’t make it through the division play-offs, so there aren’t too many people in there watching, but it is still early in the game and scoreless. There’ll be time to watch the game later, after they’ve had their fill of watching the girls.
    “So are you gonna bust some serious moves?” Paul says, leaning in close for me to hear him as we walk into the gym.
    I remember from Maura’s party that Paul is an enthusiastic dancer. “I don’t dance.”
    “Everyone loves to dance,” he says. “Some people just don’t know it yet.”
    I shake my head, but I know he isn’t going to take no for an answer. He steers