Liam posed with the football in his front yard. Photos composed of a tuxedo clad football holding jock posed next to Sarah in her homecoming gown, a strapless pink dress that flared out a bit at the waist, looked awkward.

  “Maybe I should just throw the ball. Might look better.”

  Mrs. Witman put down the phone. “These are fine. I’ll text them to you.”

  Sarah tugged on his arm and nodded towards the limo. The driver had been patient during the entire forty-five-minute-long photoshoot of Liam monopolizing the compositions.

  “Back by 11.” Mrs. Witman said. “Your dad is there, so he’ll know.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Witman,” Sarah stepped into the open door, and Liam followed behind her.

  Liam opened the minifridge to look for anything he’d want to drink. Bottles clanked as he browsed.

  Sarah crossed her legs, perturbed at him ignoring her as she spent hours preparing. Her hair was draped over her front in a braid, adorned with hand-picked flowers from her yard, the makeup, not to mention the time it took to find and get sized for the dress. “I don’t think they’re going to have alcohol for high school students.”

  He leaned back next to her, perturbed that he’d have to wait to get wasted on his resources. “Whatever, I have a flask.”

  She rolled her eyes as he wasted no time taking a swig. The limo made a stop not far from Liam’s. Alicia stepped in, wearing a classic black, form-fitting gown, along with her date, Rory.

  “Whoa,” Sarah said.

  “I know, right?” Alicia brushed her hands down her hips. “Looks hot.”

  “Right on,” Liam said. “And the limo driver is too fast, we were about to bang.”

  Sarah slouched back, perturbed. “It’s that time.”

  “You’ve been on your period for like a month now.”

  “Whoa, that’s a long time. I think.” Rory said as he fitted his large body in a seat, seemingly taking up most of the interior. ”You might need to get that checked.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Rory,” Sarah said. “Maybe next week.”

  The four continued bantering as the limo drove around before the dance started. Much of the time spent taking selfies and standing up from the sunroof, howling at the setting sun.

  Once they made it to the school, many cheered and hollered at them, gawking at the limo. They got out and, before entering the gym, they got their official homecoming photos taken. Boys standing behind with their hands on the hips of their dates. Liam snuck an ass grab on the farside of the camera and theirs came out with Sarah having a startled look.

  “I want another one.”

  Liam laughed. “Nah, this one is perfect. Our kids will find it hilarious.”

  Wait what?

  She ignored what he said and dragged him out to the dance floor. The same gym they use for gym class every day had changed entirely. Lights and streamers strung across by the basketball hoops and rafters, and decor covered every inch of the wall. In the middle of the dancing crowd, Liam immediately began grinding on her. She took control and made him dance like an adult, following the flow of the music. The dark lighting, the occasional disco ball, and the friends dancing by congratulating her on the obvious win for homecoming queen kept her in a positive mood. She won it last year once she was eligible, and princess the previous two. Liam won homecoming king once alongside her last year.

  She stopped dancing when Liam took a swig of his flask. He was kind enough to offer. His handsome smile, well-combed dark hair, it’d be hard for a nun to say no. But she wanted to stay sober, and she liked the idea of being in control. Especially after witnessing…

  The lights brightened a little, and the principal walked onto the stage. After crowning the homecoming princess and prince, “It’s that time,” he said, “to crown your king and queen.”

  He opened an envelope. “And no surprise. With almost 100% of the vote. Sarah!”

  She smiled as she walked onto the stage, stood next to the younger royalty, and was crowned by the principal.

  Wait. She froze. Is that? Timothy stood alone in the back of the crowd. With the lights down earlier, she wasn’t able to see him. He stood slightly clapping in the back near the bleachers, where you’d sit if you weren’t dancing or had no date. She’s never been over there. She gave a light wave to him.

  “And also no surprise. But not 100% of the vote.” The students laughed. “Liam Witman.”

  His dad cheered the loudest. Liam turned his cordial self on as he went up the stage and settled next to his girlfriend, and the principal then crowned him. “Thank you,” Liam said with a firm handshake.

  The principal motioned for the students to make way for their slow dance.

  Hand in hand, they walked down to the middle of their peers. Sarah put her hands around his neck. “King Liam.”

  He chuckled. “Easiest contest of my life.” He thought for a second. “Next to whooping Avondale.”

  They didn’t say anything else as they danced. After a beat, the rest of the student body got tired of looking and started slow dancing with their dates.

  Once the song ended, and the crowd reformed to fill the entire gym, Rory and another football player came up and slapped Liam on the shoulder. He nodded towards the doors.

  “I’ll be back,” Liam said.

  “Sure.”

  The boys hustled out with zest, excited for something. Sarah stood there with her crown on, alone, yet surrounded by her peers dancing with one another. She turned towards the end of the crowd and made way through the crowd, leading with her shoulder. Then she made it to the bleachers.

  Timothy, per usual, stared off into the distance. Even the others, primarily boys, with no dates, avoided him by congregating at the end of the bleachers opposite him. She knelt next to Timothy, he didn’t notice her, she fake-coughed. His heart about leapt out of his throat as his entire body jolted off the bench from the reaction.

  “Hey,” he said. “Scared me.”

  She smiled. “You came.” She admired the effort he put into his appearance. It wasn’t a tux, but the dress pants matched his tucked-in shirt, dress shoes, and a black tie.

  “Yeah. Everything looks so pretty.”

  She waited a moment to give him a chance. “Was there a reason you came?”

  He swallowed, not audible through the music, but she saw it. “Do you want to dance?”

  “Yes!” She grabbed his arm and forced him to his feet, and dragged him out to the floor.

  She turned around to face him in the crowd. And he stood there. She wrapped her arms around his neck and swayed. Allowing the motions of her body to do the teaching, he eventually followed her lead. Swaying was a good start, but he wasn’t doing much else, and his arms were limp at his sides.

  “You can hold me, Tim.”

  He brought his hands to her waist. And he began shaking, the nerves of his reverberated through the wooden gym floor. A single drop of sweat slid from his hair. His eyes couldn’t look straight at hers, so she held his chin and turned his head to face her.

  Simply asking a question was a simple strategy to get someone to drop their nerves. “You haven’t told me much about yourself,” she said.

  “Not much to tell.”

  The whispers piled up around them. Sarah is dancing with Duck Face? Is Sarah seriously with him? Where’s Liam? Is he paying her?

  His usual heavy breathing grew, but she saw how he was trying to focus like the good student that he is. She’s been stared at by everyone for a long time, but Timothy here was new to the experience. At least, new to positive attention.

  “Well,” she said, “what did you do today?”

  “I walked dogs. It’s my job.”

  “Is it lucrative?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  She gave an approving smile. “Alright. Maybe I can help you do your dog walking sometime. Anything else you did today?”

  “I modified my synthesizer.”

  She released one arm around his neck and pushed against his chest. “Music. You’re a musician?”

  “Yeah. Trying to make some of that retro wave music. I grew up playing the piano.”

  “Finally.” She tightened a grip on his shoulder. “Finally opening up a little. Would you want to share some of your music? With me?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  His hands still shook on her waist as his nerves came back. “Yeah.” He swallowed. “What about you? Anything new?”

  She thought about what to tell him. However, with Liam’s ego-centric behavior, her mind is now made up. “I’m breaking up with Liam.”

  He gasped, but retained his dancing, spinning in slow circles. “Oh man.”

  “It’s not because of you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “No, I mean.” He thought for a beat. His face grew red. “He’ll take it out on me.”

  “What? Why?”

  A heavy force sent Timothy to the floor, almost taking Sarah down with him. He slid across the floor and stopped between a couple as he winced in pain.

  “Oh my god.” She ran to him, knelt, and caressed his head.

  With several football players behind him, Liam stood where they had been dancing a moment ago. “What the hell is this?”

  She ignored him and helped Timothy up. She grabbed her crown and tossed it at Liam. “Fuck off.”

  It bounced off of him and dinged onto the floor. Without a wince, he said, “You can’t dance with Duck Face there. And what’s going on with you?”

  She didn’t want to humor him for any reason. He wouldn’t understand why anyone would want to break up with the most popular boy in school. She approached him, getting a whiff of the skunk smell that all the players didn’t have before the dance started. “We’re done.”

  “Alright,” Mr. Witman approached, weaving through the observing students. “That’s enough.” When he saw it was his son involved with Timothy, he snapped at him. “What did I tell you?” He continued to scold his son and the other players, and forced them into the hallway to deliver a detention.

  Sarah always admired Mr. Witman. He was funny and pragmatic, had blonde hair, and scolded his son. She’s going to miss having dinner with him and his wife. But she won’t miss their son, not one bit. The sad feeling after a breakup didn’t materialize like it had before. Perhaps the third breakup is the charm.

  “You ok?” She rubbed his head where his hand held it.

  “Yeah.”

  Alicia grabbed Sarah’s wrist. “What the Hell is going on?”

  Like the king and queen dance, the crowd was silent, and all eyes continued to point to Sarah, again. “Danced with Timothy and Liam got all toxic masc over it.”

  “Yeah, of course you danced with Duck—”

  A slap sent Alice’s head to a 90-degree angle. Her mouth dropped with disbelief, and her cheek began to sting. They’d been friends since kindergarten, and their arguments never turned physical. The crowd gasped, and cellphone lights pointed to the three in the center.

  “Apologize,” Alicia said.

  “No.” Sarah turned and grabbed Timothy by the arm, forcing herself between cellphones and arms and bodies. “Out of the way.” Some more bodies moved. Heads and cameras turned like lemmings as they left the gym.

  “Sorry about that,” Sarah said. The look on Timothy’s face hadn’t changed, keeping the same thousand-yard stare. “You know, I didn’t ask if you wanted to leave—”

  “I’d like to leave.”

  She chuckled. “Sure.” As they made their way down the hall, a boy asked for her phone number in two different occurrences. Word spreads fast. “Ah, crap.” They made it outside, but she forgot Liam had ordered the limo. “I can call an Uber.”

  “I rode my bike here. I’ll wait with you, though.”

  “Yo, Sarah.” A boy in a tux, standing with one foot out the partially opened door, said. “Can I call you?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Sarah didn’t look to see who it was. “You have your bike?”

  ***

  She leaned into him. Much to his discomfort, he peddled standing up as she side-saddled the seat. It was a blast for her. He was sweating, and not because he was peddling. Shadows blurred as the sun neared the end of the setting, lights turned on, and cars hummed by on their main rural street, which led out of town if it continued straight. One ear pressed on his back, the other listened to the wheel spin beneath her, and time vanished.

  The town slept beyond the ranches as they rode through. An occasional hum of a car drove by, the cows stood still, Carr Ware had an empty parking lot, and Main Street kept dim lights when they turned into it. Stars sprinkled onto the sky, then got covered by the large trees as they turned into the old neighborhood, and the sugar mill grew from the horizon until another set of trees covered that view as well.

  He slowed to a stop, avoiding bumping the bike on the small lip of the sidewalk with a passenger on the back. “We’re here.”

  She startled up. Despite being deserted for decades, the sugar mill silhouetted against the sky had a charm to it. She wished the bike ride were longer as she leaned off him and hopped off, unfurling her dress. “Great.” She stepped up towards the driveway.

  She stepped towards his door. “One second.” He hustled up past her with the bike in tow and leaned it against the brick wall of the garage. “Just, one second.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The door remained open as she listened to footsteps, Twain barking, and more motion as he cleaned up the place. “Ok, come in.”

  The kitchen was cleaner than she remembered when she ate there for dinner unannounced. Upstairs in the hall, a door light reached out of a room.

  “Is that your room?”

  “Yeah.” He stood still as she raised a brow. “Did you want to see my room?”

  “I do.”

  “Sure. Just cleaned it.” He smirked.

  Holy shit did he just make a joke? She chuckled while walking by his outstretched arm. The dog pushed the door open further, and she walked in, lifting the front of her dress so as not to step on it. The room surprised her. It was clean, had several basketball posters up, and his desk with hardware stood in the corner. Twain jumped on the bed and looked out the window.

  “You like basketball?”

  “Yeah. I watch when I do homework.”

  The chair spun as she dropped down in it. “And this is the synthesizer?” She leaned up to take a closer look. It’s much more involved than she imagined. “Can you play me anything?”

  “Yeah.” He approached her. “Sorry, gotta get on the computer.”

  She hopped off and hopped right onto his bed. “No worries.” As the monitor turned on, there looked to be some esoteric copy on there. “What’s all that?”

  “It’s uh, python. You can write code for the synthesizer. I was doing that before leaving today.”

  Programming, she gleaned some more info out of him. “Is that how you got the Carr Ware internship?”

  “Yeah.”

  He unplugged the headphones, and a fast backbeat drummed through the computer speakers. A synth melody kicked in, followed by a strong power chord of a guitar.

  Deep in his head, he leaves crowded threads and lights shine on him. A saxophone tuned in lieu of the guitar. She hasn’t known what he’s never shown, and babel drowns the noise.

  Impressed, she knew the vocals were his, and the song was meant to be a duet of instrument and of voice as his register changes back and forth.

  As the song ended, she bounced, happy to hear his music. “That was great.”

  “Thanks. I had to use a voice modulator because of my teeth.”

  “Any others?”

  He clicked the mouse, and another song played. “The sun is down.” A much slower song.

  She raised a brow as she stood up, poofing out her dress with her hands. “You using my advice about your music on me?”

  He nodded and stared for a beat. “Would you like to dance again?”

  “Thought you’d never ask, again,” she put a hand out.

  And, he was just as nervous as he was an hour ago. Shaking. But he did take her hand and walked her to the middle of his room, taking the lead this time. The song orchestrated along with similar instruments, a saxophone, a light guitar, and a synthesizer, providing the mood. A quiet urban city at night vibe reminded her of the bike ride he just took her on.

  Wishing it all away, buildings wave against my feet and the rain beats above. By the window, I wonder if you see me…

  Despite his trembling, his hands remained firm on her waist. They circled as a pair in the middle of his room, as they did an hour ago, but now they were alone. Her arms around his neck loosened, bringing her hands closer to his face. Her thumbs rubbed under his ear and around his cheek. She felt his hand rubbing up and down her waist, and another on her lower back. He took a risk. With a tug of her arms, she brought him closer, her chest now against his, and after several spins, she rested her head on his shoulder. Without realizing, a hand of hers rubbed his hair.

  Her eyes rested on a couple of framed photos. One looked to be a family photo of Timothy as a newborn, with his father standing proud next to Kayla, who held him. The photos spun out of view as they turned.

  She looked up at him, their breath crossing paths, and said, “I do like you, Timothy.” Words she’d never believe she’d say until a month ago.

  He froze, the slow, simple spin dance stopped. “Uh, where are my manners? Are you thirsty?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Want some water?”

  “No.” She cooed. She leaned back in, rested her head on his chest, next to his chin, and swayed again to his poetry. Timothy's heart vibrated against her ear, a bit fast, and he tried to keep cool with her confession. It’s not like girls hadn’t confessed to him before, but it always ended as a prank. Once the song ended, she leaned back. “That was beautiful.” She smiled, made intense eye contact, and waited. With his continued stare, he froze. And she still waited. A kiss was something he’d have to go for. She hopped back onto the bed. “We can go as fast or as slow as you want.”

  A deep, heavy breath of relief spewed out of him. His face was beet red, and after several more large breaths, he said, “Uh. How about a movie?”

  ***

  “It dices, it slices, it makes french fries in three different…”

  She thought he had a humorous side when he said he wanted to watch Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But he actually meant watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. As silly as the movie was, Timothy froze at two perfect 90-degree angles, at the waist and knees, hands to his side. He dared not move. At all.

  “So they’re turtles, from New York, with Italian artists' names, and they’re ninjas.”

  He nodded. This perturbed behavior, she recognized it. Liam pulled this crap whenever he wanted to get laid. Put on a bad movie to get her bored, and she’d make a move to avoid watching it. But with Timothy, she can see the terror of her sitting so close to him, and perhaps he avoided moving their relationship forward. From a sophisticated, poetic song he wrote, to a children’s movie from the 80s, she decided to change it up a bit.

  She coughed as she stood. “This dress is getting uncomfortable. Do you have anything I can wear?”

  “What?”

  “Do you have anything I can wear?”

  He paused the video. “I’m a guy.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Boys clothes are the best. Gym shorts and a large t-shirt?”

  “Ok,” he stood up, “be right back.”

  She heard constant rummaging from upstairs. Drawers opened and shut, feet shuffled, and the closet opened and closed multiple times. And then his feet pattered down the hall and stairs. The gym shorts lay on a white shirt folded over both his arms.

  “Here,” he tried to hustle out.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Just turn around, this will take a minute to get out of.”

  He covered his eyes and turned as she untied and unzipped her dress, the corset portion fell off, and she stepped out. She slid the white shirt on and tied the shorts. “Okay. Ready.” His mouth dropped, she was cute in his clothes. “Surprised you didn’t sneak a peek there.” She continued to remove the flowers from her hair, and it unfurled, drawing more intense staring from him.

  He managed to respond. “I’d never.”

  She approached. “I know.” The toy basketball hoop was low and against the opposite side of the small basement. She bent down, got on her knees, grabbed a miniature basketball, and began bouncing it. “Bet you can’t stop this.”

  With a smile, “This’ll be easy.” He got on his knees into a defensive posture and blocked her shot from going in the mini hoop. He smirked as they switched positions. But Sarah was far more aggressive on defense. Not afraid of any feminine body part with just a thin single layer of clothing bumping into him. But Timothy had resolve when it came to basketball. As the shot happened, a fade away to get apart from her created an opportunity to dive into him. He fell to his side, and she pinned him.

  “Sounded like it went in.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Will you kiss me?”

  He stared. Not in the 1000-yard sort of way, but right into her eyes. “I’m not quite ready for that.”

  With a smile, she leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “Go for it when you are.” She got off of him and grabbed the ball. “My turn.”