She wasn't the best dancer.

But she wasn't the worst.

She would just dance.

A song would play, she'd grab her brother, and sometimes they had done this dance before and would be good, sometimes they would bump into each other.

Either way, they would dance.

Her more than him. Like she needed to dance.

I want that. Ever since that… time when I was 8 and gay with kids. Worst name ever. Cartman had been right. I hate when he does that. It can't be because of my religious beliefs though. Right?

Watching her was creepy, wasn't it? I can't help it. Every school dance she does the same thing. At first she wouldn't want to dance, then a song she liked would play, and she grabbed her brother, and dance every dance. If she stopped, you knew she hated the song. Or if slow songs started.

Like now.

Why was I even here? Oh yeah, I got dragged here.

Actually mostly my parents said it would be good for me. Bluh. What's so great? Not dancing, too scared to drink the maybe spiked punch, and creeping on your friend.

Would be less creepy if he talked to her?

Maybe.

Fuck it.

"Hey Annabell, you look like you're having fun."

"Oh hey Kyle. I guess. It's like most school dances."

"Where's your brother?"

"Trying too subtly seduce Ken… Uh...fuck."

"I won't tell him."
"Thanks. Sorry I keep forgetting it's a secret. I'm mostly worried about Cartman. But I know you won't tell him."

"Yeah. I'll try not to tell Stan, but no promises."

"I understand. Best friends don't count. Just as long as he tells no one."

"Ok. Let's go back in time and play a little swing." The dj called into the mic, scaring the both of us, considering we were next to a speaker.

"Come on, let's walk away from the speaker and dance." Her eyes lit up at the thought of swing.

"I don't dance."

"I know. I saw the video." I hid my face in my hands. "I think the problem isn't you can't dance, you just don't take choreography well. Come on." And before I could protest, she peeled one of my hands from my face and was pulling me towards the center.

"Uh, Annabell. This is a bad idea."
"What's the worse that could happen?"
"I mess up and become laughing stock."

"I was gonna say rip someone's arm off. Come on. Swing is a two person dance. I'll lead, and it's always the lead's fault." She pushed me and held to my arm, stretching us out. Then spun into my arm. "See. Nothing happened. You just need to loosen up. Trust me. Dancing stiff is bad." She spun out and grabbed my other arm and lifted them up. "Ok just spin. Three...two...now" I obeyed her. And we stopped. "Windmill."

"Huh?"
"That's the dance move's name."

I heard Cartman make a quip about me dancing. Annabell heard too.

"Maybe we should…"

"Make him wrong, Broflovski."

It was an appealing argument. And that windmill thing was fun.

There was a lot of spinning for her, outstretched arms, and I think I insisted we did the windmill thing too much, but it was fun. And I legitimately thought we were doing ok. And before I wanted it to, the song ended.

"See. Just needed to let the rhythm take you." God she was beaming. She had the most contagious smile on that I just couldn't help myself.

I…

hugged her.

Ha. You thought there was this whole romance thing going on. No.

She was surprised at first. But she hugged me back. Her arms were strong. Like dancer's arms.

It was too warm and sweaty and gross to hug. But it was nice, and for once, Annabell got to be the last one to let go.