A/N: Two weeks, two months...eh, same difference, right? I hope this monster of a chapter is enough to make up for it. I would've split it in two, but I wanted to keep up the structure of the story (where each chapter ends with a text conversation) and I didn't want to force an extra text thread in here somewhere.
When I arrive at the restaurant, Sun and his mom are already waiting outside. He's wearing a gray tuxedo with a vibrant orange tie. His hair has been gelled back to look nice and sleek. It's not a very drastic difference from his usual look, but it's definitely a nice one. Sun is fiddling with the inside of his left sleeve as I approach them, so it's his mom who spots me first.
"Ooooh, Moon, don't you look lovely!" she exclaims. Sun's head jerks up, and his jaw literally drops open when he catches sight of me.
"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," I tease. He closes his mouth slowly, then reopens it again, like he wants to say something but can't figure out how to put it into words.
Sun's mom provides a convenient distraction for him. "Here, you have to put this on her," she instructs, holding out a plastic container to Sun. There are flowers inside, so I assume it's my corsage. "Then we can start taking pictures!"
Sun winces slightly and gives me an apologetic smile. I shrug and step up to his side, taking the boutonniere out of the container I'm holding. I pin it to his jacket right over his heart. He takes out the corsage – a pretty arrangement of cream-colored flowers on a wire bracelet – and wraps it around my bare wrist. I put my wallet and keys down on the edge of a planter behind us. Then we turn to face Sun's mom and her camera of choice – her cell phone.
"C'mon, get a little closer together!" she calls. "You're allowed to be touching, I don't mind," she adds with a wink.
I roll my eyes and step close enough to Sun's side that our arms brush together. He quickly moves his, though, and before I have time to wonder why he's wrapped his arm over my shoulders. Instinctively, I stiffen up – I'm not used to this kind of casual contact, so I can't help feeling a little uncomfortable. Then, Sun pulls me into his side so that I'm resting against him. Strangely enough, the extra contact is reassuring – a reminder that this is an intentional gesture; I'm not invading Sun's personal space. I relax into his hold and smile for the camera.
As promised, Sun's mom takes a copious number of pictures of the two of us before letting us go inside. Sun offers to carry my wallet and keys in the pocket of his jacket, since I don't have a purse to carry them in. I gratefully take him up on the offer.
Lillie and Hau are already seated at a table when we enter the restaurant, and Hau waves us over before we've approached the hostess stand. I recognize a few other people from my classes who are also eating dinner here. I'm not surprised – it's a nice restaurant, and it's close enough to the prom venue that we can walk straight there once we finish dinner. Lillie and Hau leave earlier than us because they're going to change into their formal clothes at the venue, which I almost wish I'd thought of doing; as it is, I have to be very careful not to spill any of my dinner on my dress.
Sun and I wind up arriving at the prom venue around 8:15. Plenty of other students are arriving at the same time, so we follow the crowd in the direction of the ballroom. Along the way, we pass by Sun's dad, who's on chaperone duty – stopping random students and doing a breathalyzer test on them, to make sure no one's been drinking beforehand. Alola Academy doesn't have a huge problem with underage drinking, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen on occasion. Sun and I are most definitely not drunk, and Sun really doesn't want to get stopped by his dad for a breathalyzer test, so we walk past him as far away from the center of the hallway as possible.
"Have you ever gotten drunk before?" Sun asks suddenly, once we're out of earshot of his dad.
"What? No!" I say indignantly. "If I were to drink alcohol – which I haven't, because I'm underage–"
"Yeah, that's – that's what I meant. Sorry," Sun says. "Just wondering if you'd drunk alcohol before."
"Well, no," I say. "Have you?"
"My dad gave me a sip of his beer once. It was awful," he declares. "I swore off drinking after that." After a pause, he adds, "Plus, my mom says I'm not allowed to get drunk. My filter's bad enough as it is, the last thing I need is something to loosen up my tongue even more."
That gets a chuckle out of me, and a grin from Sun. We continue down the hallway and see that people seem to be splitting into two lines, one on each side of the hallway. Sun volunteers to run down and see what the lines are for. When he comes back, he informs me that the line on the left is to enter the ballroom and the line on the right is for formal photos.
"The last thing we need is more photos," I say, rolling my eyes.
"Actually," Sun grimaces, "my mom wants us to take one."
"Then why'd she take all those pictures earlier?" I complain.
"W-well, this is with a professional photographer, and they print them out and frame them and everything. It's really nice, and much better than the photos she took." He shrugs and gives me another one of those apologetic smiles.
I sigh. "Fine, we can take a formal photo. But can't we wait until the line goes down?"
"It doesn't."
"How do you know?"
"Last year, we decided we'd wait to get a photo and wound up spending half the dance standing in line for one."
"Ouch," I wince. "Guess we'd better get in line, then."
There are a lot of couples here; some people I know, and plenty more that I don't. Lillie and Hau are in line for formal photos, a few people ahead of us – clearly, she learned her lesson from last year, too. Lana and Sophocles have just gotten in line to enter the ballroom. I'm surprised to see a guy with distinctive pink hair in front of them – Ilima, the most popular boy in the junior class. My surprise comes not because he'd have any shortage of girls to ask, but because he already has a girlfriend that he's been dating since freshman year. However, she graduated last year, and I don't think you're allowed to bring dates that aren't in high school.
To my surprise, though, a tall blonde girl approaches him and greets him with a kiss on the cheek – Mina, Ilima's long-time girlfriend. Judging by the fancy pink dress she's wearing and the fact that her hair isn't paint-splattered like usual, it seems she's going to prom with Ilima after all.
Sun nudges me and points in their direction. "Is that even allowed?" he asks me. "She's in college now, right?"
"Yeah," I say. "I guess she's not going to let something as trivial as graduation stop her from going with him to prom three years in a row."
"Maybe they're going for a record," Sun says, grinning. "It would be pretty impressive to make it to junior-senior prom all four years of high school."
"Sounds dreadful," I snort.
It winds up taking about 20 minutes for us to get to the front of the line and get our picture taken. It's nothing fancy; we pose the same way we did for Sun's mom. The only difference is the higher quality camera and background. As it turns out, Sun's decision was pretty smart after all; by the time we're done, there's almost no line to enter the ballroom and the line for pictures is even longer than it was when we arrived. Sun holds out his elbow, and I hook my arm through it. We make our way into the ballroom.
Immediately, I'm assailed with stimuli from all sides. There are people everywhere – dancing and talking and standing around. There's a pop song blasting through the giant speakers. The lights are dimmed except for the colorful ones aimed at an area in front of us that I assume is the dance floor. Tables are scattered around near the walls. They stand at chest height so people can stand and talk at them. I don't know why anyone would want to talk at them though. It's so loud in here that I can barely hear myself think. Is this what dances are like? Why would anyone want to go to one of these things?
Sun tugs on my arm and I glance over at him. He's trying to say something, but I can't hear him over the din in the ballroom. I point a finger at my ear and then hold my hand out in a helpless gesture to indicate to him as much.
He leans closer to my ear and shouts, "Stick close to me!"
I nod – because it's not like I was planning on doing anything different – and I follow Sun as he weaves through the crowd with a lot more ease than I'm able to manage in my long dress and heels. I was glad when I found them that their heels weren't too tall because it made the shoes more comfortable to wear, but now I'm almost regretting it; I keep stepping on the edge of my dress and nearly tripping. Eventually I wind up unhooking my arm from Sun's so that I can grab my skirt and hold it up above my feet like a medieval princess trying to keep her dress from getting dirty. This jostles my shawl, though, so I tie the ends of it in front of my torso to keep it in place.
A few of the people that we pass are holding plastic cups of water or little plastic plates. I'm still pretty full from dinner, but I am a little thirsty. I wonder if they have anything other than water to drink. Actually, maybe that's where Sun is taking me. He'd never pass up free food.
When we weave through one of the corners of the room, I notice several pairs of heels piled up near the wall. Are those girls really just walking around barefoot? What if someone tried to steal their heels? Why would they even bother wearing heels to the dance if they're just going to take them off right away? I can understand why they'd want to take off their heels, certainly; I'm not looking forward to the hours ahead of us that I'll be stuck in my heels. But that's part of the reason I liked these heels so much in the first place; I feel like I can go three hours in them without much discomfort. I ignore the twinge of pain that I'm already starting to feel in the back of my feet and hurry after Sun.
Soon enough, we reach an area in the back of the room set up with refreshments – just cookies and water, it seems. Sun immediately starts helping himself to the contents of a tray while I investigate all three tables that have cookie trays on them to see what kinds of cookies are available. To my disappointment, it looks like they're all chocolate chip. Not that I don't like chocolate chip cookies, they're just…a little boring. I grab a cookie and a glass of water and maneuver my way through the crowd back to Sun, trying not to step on the hem of my dress.
When I find him, he's holding a half-eaten cookie in one hand and has at least five piled up on a plate in the other. I roll my eyes. "The cookies aren't going anywhere, Sun."
"What?" he yells.
"I said, the cookies aren't going anywhere!" I yell back.
He grins. "They're going into my stomach!"
The corners of my lips twitch upwards, and Sun's grin gets even bigger. He puts the unfinished cookie into the pile on his plate and takes my wrist in his now freed hand, then jerks his head in the direction of the far wall, opposite the door we entered. Catching on, I follow him to that corner of the room.
That corner, as it turns out, holds a little photo booth. It's the kind where they have a table full of gaudy accessories like giant glasses and feather boas that you can put on for the photos, and you pose for three different pictures in succession – there was a similar one at my cousin's wedding reception a few years back. Mallow, Kiawe, and Lana are all posing right now, and there's a small line of people waiting to take their own pictures. I realize that Sun is pulling me towards the end of the line and stop dead, digging my heels in a little when he keeps going. My heels dig back, causing a brief spike of pain on the top of my feet, near my toes.
Sun glances back at me and tilts his head quizzically. I shake my head. He moves closer to me, so I don't have to shout. "Haven't we taken enough photos already?"
"Aw, but those are all formal and boring! These are just for fun!"
"I don't want to," I insist petulantly. It's really not that much fun to dress up for the photo booth, and I don't even have a clue what kind of poses we could do. I'm not twelve years old anymore – anything I do would just look stupid.
Sun pouts. "Fine, we'll come back to the photo booth later. For now, let's go dance!"
"With those?" I ask, gesturing to the pile of cookies on his plate.
He looks down at the plate and pops the rest of the half-eaten cookie into his mouth. Then he puts the plate down on a table nearby. "I'll come back for those," he says, spewing out a couple of crumbs. He finishes chewing and swallows. "Let's go!"
Having already finished my cookie, I quickly gulp down my last sips of water and trail after Sun to the most brightly lit area of the room. Calling it the "dance floor" turns out to be more literal than I expected – the tile floor of the ballroom has been covered with panels of wooden flooring, edged by rubber ramps to keep people from tripping on it. There's barely any room around the edges for us to get onto the dance floor, but Sun doesn't seem bothered by it. He squeezes between a couple of people who are facing away from each other and I slide after him.
I don't really know where he's going – the whole floor seems pretty packed. His head is already bobbing to the rhythm of the song. It's some upbeat tune that I hear on the radio sometimes, but I don't know what it's called and I barely know any of the lyrics. It's some cheesy love song about dancing with a girl at a club or something. A couple of the people that we push past wave at Sun, and he waves back. I don't have a clue who they are.
Someone accidentally bumps into me and knocks my shawl off – the tie had come undone without me noticing. They apologize as I pick up my shawl and put it back over my shoulders, tying it more tightly this time. Then I hurry to catch up to Sun.
He finally stops when reaches a little pocket on the dance floor where there aren't as many people. He turns back to face me and starts to dance. He's just kinda waving his arms around and moving his torso to the beat of the song and, quite frankly, it looks a little dumb. "Come on!" he shouts to me, moving his head forward and backwards. "Just dance!"
He says it like it's easy to stand in a crowd and make a fool of yourself. I have no desire to embarrass myself by copying whatever the heck Sun is doing, but I don't know how to dance in a way that looks good, either. I sway a little in place, still clutching my empty water cup in one hand. Apparently, that's enough to appease Sun, since he switches his attention back to his bizarre motions. Now he's jumping around a bit while he moves, and even the thought of jumping around in these heels makes my feet throb.
On second thought, maybe the jumping doesn't have anything to do with it. My feet hurt. So much for the low heels being less painful.
Kiawe and Mallow stumble out of the crowd of dancers to my right, laughing like drunken idiots. For a moment, I think that they might actually be drunk, and they managed to sneak past the teacher chaperones. But then Sun waves to them and approaches them, and they straighten up and return his greeting.
I think they're having a conversation, but I can't hear it even standing a few feet away from them. I don't want to shout until my voice gets hoarse for the sake of having a conversation, and I'm also tired of awkwardly standing here and pretending to dance. The longer I stand still, the more my feet ache. I turn to my left – away from Sun, Kiawe, and Mallow – and slip into the crowd. I'm half-hoping to hear one of them call my name or stop me and ask me where I'm going, but no one does. I leave the dance floor completely unnoticed.
The only item on my to-do list right now is finding a trash can to throw away my cup. As I pause and glance around to try to spot one, I spot Mina a few feet away and make the mistake of making eye contact with her. She smiles at me and greets me, and now I'm forced to make awkward conversation with her. We were in the same group for a big physics project last year, but I wouldn't exactly consider us friends. I don't know anything about her besides the fact that she's an artist. At least it's a little quieter over here, so I don't have to scream to make my voice heard. Eventually, I manage to use my empty water cup as an excuse to get away. Mina points me in the direction of a trash can, and I give her a grateful nod before hastily stepping away.
After throwing away the cup, I navigate through the crowds to the only corner I haven't been to, the farthest one from the entrance to the ballroom. It's located on the edge of the building, so there are several windows along the walls with relatively wide windowsills. A couple of them already have some people sitting in them or standing in front of them, but I manage to find an unoccupied windowsill that no one is standing near and sit down in it.
I let out a sigh of relief at the release of some of the pressure on my feet. They still ache a little where the heels have been rubbing against my skin – I wouldn't be surprised if there are blisters under there – and I can't wait until I can leave this stupid dance and take the dumb shoes off. I notice that the tie on my shawl has come undone – again – and I retie it with a huff of frustration.
"Stay tied, you dumb thing," I mutter.
I look out the window, watching as people walk along the street three stories below. I'd say they look happy, but I can't actually see their faces from this far away. I'm sure they're happier than me, though – getting to walk around doing something they enjoy, not just something they feel obligated to do. I could be getting lost in research right now, or playing a video game, or watching a movie, or – hell, even browsing social media would be more entertaining than this dance right now. I can't even have that luxury; I left my phone in the car so I wouldn't have to carry it around the ballroom all night. I'm really, really regretting that decision now.
This – this is exactly why I've never gone to a dance before. I've been dragged along with my parents to similar social events before, and they're all the same. There's barely anything to do, and all the stuff that there is to do is stupid and pointless. I don't know why I thought that trying to go to a dance would be a good idea. I'm tired, I'm miserable, and I just want to go home.
"Moon! There you are!" Sun's voice drags me out of my melancholy thoughts, and I glance over in his direction. "I was talking to Kiawe and Mallow and…" His voice trails off as his eyes flick over me, taking in my folded arms, hunched shoulders, and grim expression. His smile fades and his brow creases. "Are you okay?"
"No," I snap.
"What's wrong?"
I glance away from him, not responding. He doesn't deserve my snappiness, but I can't bring myself to feign a better attitude. It's not him I'm mad at; it's me. Me and that dumb decision I made to tell my friends that I wanted to go to prom and stupid social norms and–
"Moon?" Sun's voice is closer now, laced with concern.
"My heels are hurting my feet," I finally say.
"Um…why don't you just take them off?" he says, clearly puzzled by the fact that I haven't resorted to what he thinks is an obvious solution.
But Sun just doesn't get it – he doesn't understand. He can't understand. He's too oblivious to notice these kinds of social cues. Normally it's cute, but now it's just infuriating, because it means he can't understand what the root of it all is – the reason why I can't be happy here.
I turn my head back around to glare at him as I say, "I can't just walk around the dance barefoot, Sun. It's not right."
Sun tilts his head quizzically and glances at the floor around him. "Plenty of other girls have taken off their heels, though?"
I groan in frustration and dig the palms of my hands into my eyes. "I don't know why they did that, Sun. But you're not supposed to go walking around barefoot in public and leaving your shoes all over the place, and I'm not going to do that, either."
"Well, yeah, in public," Sun says. "But we're not in public. We're at prom."
I blink and lower my hands. Sun has moved to sit across from me in the windowsill. He pulls off each of his shoes with one hand and tosses them carelessly to the ground. "Wh…what are you doing?" I ask.
"I'm taking my shoes off," he replies matter-of-factly.
"Why?"
"Because I want to," he says. He pulls his legs up into the windowsill, crosses them, and turns to face me as much as he can without falling off. He offers me a little grin. "That's the secret to having fun at prom."
My brow creases, and I shake my head. "I don't understand."
"You're overthinking this. You don't have to follow all the usual societal norms at prom." He nudges me with an elbow. "Besides, I thought you weren't the type to care about societal norms, Miss Customer."
"I'm not," I say indignantly. "But if I'm going to have a normal prom experience, I have to follow the societal norms."
Sun snorts. "There's no such thing as a normal prom experience, Miss Customer. And even if there was, I think it would involve more rule-breaking than rule-following. Your prom experience is whatever you make of it."
"Well, there's not much I can make of it," I snap. "All my prom experience has done is confirm what I already thought – dances aren't fun. So just…leave me to wallow in my misery and go have fun by yourself 'til this stupid dance is over."
Sun's expression falls, and now I feel guiltier because I've just gone and snapped at him again, when he was only trying to help me feel better. "Sorry," I mutter at his hands, though he probably can't hear it over the music.
"But, Moon…dances aren't fun to experience by yourself. That's why I wanted to go with you."
My head snaps back up, and I meet his eyes – they're open and earnest. My stomach churns as I suddenly realize how bratty and selfish I've been acting. Sun didn't have to go to prom with me; Acerola would have happily gone with him instead. He asked me because he really wanted to go with me, and how do I repay him for that decision? By abandoning him on the dance floor to go sulk in a corner? Just this morning, I was excited to spend the whole night with Sun. Now I'm just pushing him away.
"If you really don't think you can have fun, then…" Sun swallows, and he looks down at his hands. "I won't force you to do anything. And I'm sorry for dragging you to this dance in the first place. But…" He looks back up at me and gives me one of his typical bright grins. "I'd really like to experience this dance with you, Moon. I think if you just relax and give it a shot, you'll have a lot of fun!"
I think of my promise to Acerola – show Sun a great time for the both of us, alright?
I think of Olivia's promise to me – you're gonna have a great time. I promise.
They both believed in me, but I've barely even tried to have a good time. I can't let them down.
The selfish, logical part of my brain says that I'm placing far too much importance on a dance that's going to have no importance in the grand scheme of things. The selfish, logical part of my brain needs to shut up and let me have fun.
"Okay," I tell Sun, managing a hint of a smile. "Let's do this together."
Sun beams back.
He slips out of the windowsill while I pull my heels off my feet and put them neatly on the floor, underneath the window. Sun places his dress shoes next to mine. I glance at his socked feet, then look at him. "Aren't you going to put your shoes back on?" I ask.
"Nah," he says, shrugging and smiling. "Like I said before, that's the secret to having fun at a dance – you can do basically whatever the heck you want, and no one cares!"
I purse my lips thoughtfully. He's right – everyone is focused on themselves and their friends, so why would they care what I do? More importantly, why should I care if they care? This is my prom experience. Nobody is stopping me from doing whatever I want to have fun except myself. I finger the ties of my shawl, which have come undone again. A small smile blooms across my face as I shrug the shawl off my shoulders and toss it to the floor by our shoes.
"Let's try this again," I say. "Where to, delivery boy?"
"Photo booth?" he suggests.
"Sounds good," I reply.
He bounces a little on his feet and hooks his arm in mine. He doesn't even need to give it a tug before I'm following him to get in line for the photo booth.
The line for the booth isn't too long, so we don't have to wait very long before we reach the table with all the silly accessories on it. The feathery boas catch my eye, and I pick one that's almost as thick as my arm and colored silver like the skirt of my dress that I wrap around my neck. The couple in front of us quickly changes their accessories between shots, and one of them drops a pretty gold-leaf circlet on the table. I grab it and place it gently on my head, trying not to mess up my hair.
"Moon, Moon!" Sun exclaims. I glance at him and see that he's put on a goofy red-and-white striped hat and he's holding two masks in his hands. One of them is a sequin-covered black domino mask and the other is a shiny metallic magenta mask with a gold-colored rod attached to it.
"I like that one better," I say, pointing to the domino mask.
"Good! You can wear it, then!" Sun says, handing it to me. "We can have matching masks!"
"These masks do not match even the slightest bit," I point out. I put on the domino mask anyways.
There's a small mirror on the table, right next to the rack of hats. Sun steps in front of it and holds the mask up to his face using the metal rod, checking his reflection. "How do we look?" he asks.
He steps aside to let me check my own reflection. "We look stupid," I announce.
Sun grins. "That's the point!"
The couple in front of us finishes their photo shoot and steps aside to wait for their photos to print out. The guy running the booth gestures us forward and tells us to stand in front of the machine holding the camera. A screen on the machine lights up with a preview of what the camera is seeing. A timer appears in the upper-left corner and begins counting down from 15. As it counts down, I realize something.
"I have no idea what poses to do."
"Neither do I," Sun replies cheerfully. "You'll think of something!"
"That doesn't help!"
The timer is at seven seconds now. Sun's holding the mask up to his face and throwing up an okay sign with his other hand. I fold my arms, then unfold them, then fold one of them and hold the other one up to my face in a pose that I hope looks thoughtful.
The camera snaps the first picture.
Our image stays on the screen for a few seconds before being replaced by the live feed again, and the timer is again counting down from fifteen. "Wow, okay, quick turnaround," I mutter to myself. I decide to play around with the border of the camera a little, folding my arms and leaning back so that it looks like I'm leaning against the edge of the frame. Sun mirrors my position on the opposite side, though he can only fold one arm because he's busy holding up his mask with the other.
The camera snaps the second picture.
Once again, the screen displays the image it captured for a few seconds before the timer starts counting down again. I have a vague idea in mind for a pose for this one – something that looks wily or mischievous. I hold my chin in my palm and lean forward, smirking. I glance up to see what Sun is doing, and he also has a mischievous grin on his face. But he's not doing any sort of pose. He also abandoned his mask. "Sun, what are you–"
With a bark of laughter, Sun jumps onto my back. I let out an undignified yelp and stagger forward under the additional weight. I curl my arms underneath Sun's legs to support him better and lean forward to adjust my center of gravity. But as much as I try to fight it, gravity wins in the end, and Sun and I crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
I wave away the people who rush to help us up and glance over at Sun. His hat has fallen off, and the gel that was holding his wild curls in place has started to lose its strength. He's also, predictably, grinning widely. "You did your best, Miss Customer, but even the mighty must fall."
Maybe it's not the appropriate reaction. I just took a pretty rough fall, in front of a crowd of people, completely ruining our last picture. Sun's attempt at a quip doesn't even really make sense. But something about his loosened curls, his bright smile, and his cheeky words just make a warm feeling bubble up inside of me. I let it out in a burst of laughter. Sun laughs too.
Maybe I can be happy at prom after all.
When our laughter dies down, Sun helps me to my feet and back over to the accessory table. I take off my boa and mask while Sun returns his hat. Then, we head over to the side of the machine, where our photos have printed out. Sun picks them up from the tray – four identical strips with our three photos printed on each, along with a simple border and a caption on the bottom to remind us that these photos are from Alola Academy prom.
Sun snorts upon seeing the photos and hands two strips to me. I can't hold back a chuckle myself. The first two photos look pretty good, but the last one…
"Is that your hand or mine?" Sun asks, holding a photo strip up to better catch the dim lights.
"It's gotta be yours, my hands were stuck under your legs," I say.
"Oh, yeah, you're right. I can see a little bit of my sleeve next to the edge there."
"You should say that more often."
"The edge there?"
"That I'm right."
"You usually are," Sun says with a casual shrug.
I stare at him for a moment, blinking a couple of times. Then I smirk. "Can you tell that to my sister?"
"Sure," Sun laughs. "Now, how about we give it another go on the dance floor?"
My smile fades. "Do we have to?"
"It'd be pretty silly to go to a dance and not do any dancing," Sun points out.
"Yeah, but…dancing is hard," I say.
Sun laughs at that, and I try my best not to look offended. "If you're on a professional dance troupe, maybe. But dancing like this, dancing for fun? It's a piece of cake!"
"A piece of stale fruitcake, maybe."
"You only say that because you're not really trying," Sun declares, putting his hands on his shoulders and pushing me towards the dance floor. "Come on, I'll show you!"
Thankfully, he stops at the edge of the dance floor this time rather than pushing between people to try to find an empty spot. He spins me around to face him and then takes a step back. "The trick to dancing is listening for the beat," he explains, pointing a finger in the air. "Listen."
I listen to the music blasting out of the speakers. It's a moderately peppy tune, with the singer saying something about waking up to see the sunshine. I don't think I've ever heard it before, though. Sun's foot is tapping in a steady rhythm, not that I can hear it, but I can see his foot moving up and down.
"Once you've got a feel for the beat, you just start moving!" Sun's head begins to bob in sync with his foot, quickly followed by his torso moving from side to side. When he starts shaking his fists in front of him at the same time as some of the words of the song, I realize that all his movements are timed to match up with notes in the song. He ends his little routine by spinning on one foot and planting the other in time with the last note of the song. He adds a flourish of jazz hands once he stops moving. "See? It's that simple!"
I shake my head as a new song starts playing. "Simple, maybe. But not easy. How am I supposed to know what notes to move to?"
"Well, you can move to whatever notes you want to, really," Sun says. "You don't even need to do that much. If you want, just tap your foot on the downbeats 'till you're comfortable doing more!"
"Downbeats?"
Sun blinks. "You don't know what a downbeat is?"
Automatically, I hunch in on myself a little and shift my gaze to the floor. "I'm not a musician."
"I know that, but…" Sun trails off. "Well, it doesn't really matter. You can move to whatever notes you want to, honestly. Just do whatever feels right."
"I'll look dumb," I protest, looking up at him. He's smiling again.
"Dancing like this isn't about how you look," he says. "Like I said before, nobody's paying attention to you. Just relax, feel the beat, and let your body groove to it. It's fun!"
Sun starts dancing again. This time, I try tapping my foot to the rhythm of his motions – or at least, as close to them as I can. Eventually, I realize that my foot-tapping is going at about the same pace as the song – a steady pulse, like a heartbeat. So that's what Sun means by the beat of the song. All I have to do is keep that beat and–
The song ends before I can attempt an actual dance move.
A new song starts up immediately after, though, and I try to find the pulse of this one. When I think I've found it, I glance over at Sun to check that my pulse matches his. I feel a rush of pride when I realize that it does. Now that I've found the beat, I try moving in time with my tapping foot. It's more difficult than Sun makes it look, but eventually I manage to make my foot, head, and arms all move together. I catch Sun's eye and he grins.
"Lookin' good!" he calls.
The song changes again, and this time it's one I actually recognize. I don't know what it's called, but the phrase "light it up" gets repeated a lot in it. So, I try my usual moves – tapping my foot, bobbing my head, waving my arms – but this time, when the song gets to the first use of the phrase "light it up", I raise my hands into the air and pump them a couple times before lowering them again. I do it again the next time the phrase is used, and again, and again, and I realize that I'm enjoying trying to time my motions to match the song.
"Hey, this dancing thing is actually kinda fun."
"Told ya!" Sun crows, winking at me.
We continue to dance, and the longer we go, the more comfortable I get with my dancing. I switch it up a bit when I can – throwing in a slide, a spin, a little hop whenever it feels right. On a couple of the songs, Sun starts obnoxiously singing along to the song in addition to his dancing. I don't think I'm going to be trying that out anytime soon. But even without the singing, I quickly discover that dancing is quite a bit of a workout, and I'm losing steam for it pretty quickly.
At the next song change, I stop dancing and take a step back from the dance floor. Sun notices and stops dancing as well. He scampers over to me and puts a hand on my arm.
"You okay?" he asks.
I take a few big gulps of air, trying to slow down my breathing. "I think…I need a drink," I pant.
"Sounds like a great idea," Sun says, sounding a little winded himself. "Um – you are talking about the nonalcoholic kind, right?"
I roll my eyes. "No, I thought…we'd sneak out of the dance and…go grab a drink illegally." When his eyes widen, I give him a playful nudge. "That was sarcasm, Sun."
"Oh. Right," he says sheepishly. He hooks his arm through mine and points to the refreshment tables. "To the drinks!"
We each grab a glass of water and quickly gulp them down. While I refill my glass, Sun throws his away and goes hunting for his plate of cookies. After a workout like that, I could use a little sugar myself. I take a swallow of my new glass and start heading towards the cookie trays.
"A-lo-la!" a singsong voice calls out right next to my ear, making me jump. I don't even have to turn to know who it is – there's only one person at Alola Academy who uses the school's name as a greeting.
"Hi, Hau," I say.
"What do you think of prom so far?" he asks.
I shrug. "It's good."
"That wasn't very enthusiastic for someone who's at their first dance," Hau pouts. "Aren't you enjoying it?"
"It was a little hard at first. I didn't really know what to do," I admit. "But Sun's showing me, so I'm having more fun now."
"That's great!" Hau beams. "He went with Lillie last year, you know. But I don't think either of them had a good time. I'm really happy that he's getting the chance to have a way better prom experience!"
I think of the way I shunned him for the whole first half of the dance – not wanting to do anything with him, leaving him on the dance floor, pushing him away when he was trying to help me. "I don't know about that," I say to the floor.
"Hey, chin up, Moon!" Hau says. He literally puts a hand under my chin and pushes it upwards, so I'm forced to make eye contact with him. "As his best friend, I think I'm qualified to say that I know Sun. And I can tell you that getting to spend time with you and knowing that you're having fun? That's definitely going to make him happy." He nods firmly and smiles. "So, I think you're doing everything right."
I feel my cheeks heating up a little. "Thanks, Hau."
"No problem!" he says, letting his hand fall away from my face. Then his brow furrows and he glances around, as though just realizing that we're alone. "Where is Sun, anyways?"
"He was going to get his plate of cookies," I say, nodding in the direction he went off in. "Where's Lillie?"
"Bathroom," Hau says. His face suddenly lights up. "Hey, I just had a great idea! Have you guys been to the photo booth yet?"
Despite my assurances that yes, we have been to the photo booth, Hau, he's insistent that Sun and I take a series of photos with him. He and Sun have been best friends "since forever", in his words, and they have to commemorate the first time both of them have been to a school dance.
"Wait, you didn't go to prom last year?"
"Nah. Our family reunion was the same weekend, and Grandpa said a school dance wasn't a good enough reason to skip out."
I shake my head. "I still find it hard to believe sometimes that you and Coach Hala are related."
Sun eagerly agrees to Hau's proposition, and the three of us get back in line for the photo booth. Lillie joins us just before we reach the table with accessories, soon enough for it to be awkward. I think about asking if they took pictures at the photo booth last year, but after looking at the strained smiles they give each other I decide that I don't really need to know.
For the second round of photos, Sun picks out a crazy hat with shimmering green snakes sticking out of it and a pair of big blue sunglasses with blinders. I choose a felt disc-shaped shield to hold and a pair of matching sunglasses; I consider adding a purple witch's hat as well, but then I glance in the mirror and realize that I'm still wearing the gold-leaf circlet from the last photo shoot. While Hau and Lillie put on their own accessories – a pirate hat and a pair of cat ears, respectively – I ask Sun why he didn't tell me I was still wearing the circlet.
"It looks really good with your dress," he says, shooting me a half-smile. "I thought you should keep it on."
"You didn't even notice I was still wearing it, did you?"
"B-because it matches so well!"
When we finish the photoshoot and put our accessories back on the table, I move to take the circlet off. Sun catches my hand before I can.
"I wasn't kidding when I said that it looks good," he says. "Keep wearing it! It looks really pretty on you."
I roll my eyes, even as the compliment warms my insides. "That's stealing, Sun. I'm not stealing the photo booth's accessories."
"Well, you can put it back before we leave," he says, looking at me with pleading eyes. "Please? I love the way it looks on you."
Even in the dim light, I can see the way Sun's face flushes as the words leave his mouth. I pretend that I don't feel my face similarly heating up and adjust the circlet on my head. "Alright," I say. "I'll keep it on until we leave."
Sun beams at me, and we walk over to Hau and Lillie. They've already retrieved the photo strips from the machine and give one to me and Sun. These pictures are a little less interesting than the ones Sun and I took together, in my opinion: the four of us standing in a line, Sun's arm around me and Hau's arm around Lillie; Sun poking his head over Hau's shoulder while Lillie's tilting her head away from them and I'm crouching down in the front of the frame, half-hidden behind the shield; Hau and Lillie leaning against each other while Sun's resting his head on top of mine, and I'm shrugging my shoulders and grinning. "They're very cute," Lillie says, and the rest of us nod in agreement.
Just then, the introduction to a song that I recognize begins to play. It's been around since I was in elementary school, and it's one of the handful of songs that I actually know the choreography of. It's simple, repetitive, and really catchy – so I can't help but bounce on my feet when I hear it come on over the speakers.
"C'mon!" I tell Sun with a breathless laugh. I don't bother to make sure he's following before I dash off in the direction of the dance floor, picking my skirt up as I go.
Everyone remaining on the dance floor is dancing in sync to the song – or trying to, at least. I jump in near the edge of the pack while they're doing a series of kicks, so I can join in when they get to the turn. By the time the turn is complete, I've become seamlessly integrated into the group, and we start sidestepping as one giant mass of dancers. This synchronicity has always been my favorite part of dancing to this song; everyone can add their own flair to the motions, but the core movements are still the same. There's something soothing about being able to fit into the larger group while still maintaining individuality that I've always appreciated.
Ms. Wicke would probably say that there's a metaphor in there somewhere.
After another turn, I discover that Sun joined in on the dance at some point and is standing beside me. He grins when he sees me looking at him. "Good song!" he yells over the music. I merely nod, since I'm starting to turn away from him and he wouldn't be able to hear a response from me now.
As the song continues, I spot some other familiar faces in the crowd: Kiawe and Mallow, dancing together at the front; Sophocles, stumbling over his feet every now and then, but strangely there's no Lana in sight; Mina and Ilima, the latter of which is throwing in a fancy hand motion at the end of every set of movements. Hau and Lillie eventually join us, halfway through the song. Sun starts shooting funny faces at me when we're moving next to each other, and I alternate between sending him smirks and eyerolls back.
Eventually, the song ends, and a country song starts playing in its place. There are a few moments where everyone is just milling around on the dance floor, deciding whether to stay or to go, and a large chunk of people decide to leave the floor. Sun and I exchange glances and, with a shrug and a smile, decide to stay on the significantly less crowded dance floor.
A few songs later, the DJ – who either has been strangely silent this whole dance, or just didn't sound important enough for me to pay attention to him – tells everyone to grab their dates and get out to the dance floor, because it's time for the last slow song of the night. Sun turns to me and offers out his hand with a smile that's noticeably less exuberant than most of the ones he's been giving me tonight.
"Miss Customer," he says softly, "may I have this dance?"
My heart flutters nervously in my chest, but I smile and take his hand. "Of course, Sun."
And when it's only then that his smile grows to its usual size, I realize that he must have been nervous that I would turn him down.
I always knew in some part of my brain that I would be slow dancing with Sun at some point tonight. That's the main attraction at dances like this, after all. But it's not until we're actually out there on the dance floor, the slow song starting to play over the speakers, that it really hits me.
I'm about to slow dance. With Sun. And I'm so not emotionally prepared for this.
After a little bit of fumbling awkwardness as we figure out where to put our hands, we're just standing there, swaying to the music. My eyes flit to the other couples, who are standing around doing much of the same. Sun has one hand on my waist and one hand on my shoulder; my skin tingles where his hand makes contact. I glance down at Sun's torso. Both of my hands are resting just above his hips. I slowly let my gaze trail up his body, mustering up the courage to meet his eyes. When I finally do, he's looking at something past my shoulder. I stare at them for a few moments – I never really noticed their color before; they're a lighter gray than mine – but when his gaze snaps to mine, I instinctively look away.
Why am I so nervous? It's just Sun. We're just slow dancing. That's pretty hard to screw up. Even if I do, he's not really going to care. I bring my eyes back up to meet his and fight every muscle in my body that screams at me to look away. He smiles, and my heart pounds in my chest. I'm suddenly aware that there's less than two feet of distance between me and Sun. It's not like we've never been this close before, but there's something different about it when we're facing each other and swaying to the music like this. It's more personal, more private. It's significant. It's special.
The longer the song goes on, the more relaxed I feel. My eyes flutter closed as we sway with the beat of the song. It's not until Sun shifts his hands, locking them together behind my neck, that I open my eyes and realize I've been subconsciously drifting closer to him the whole time.
"This is nice," he murmurs, so quietly that I can barely hear it over the music.
"This is nice," I echo, letting my smile stretch all the way across my face for the first time tonight.
When the song ends, it's too soon. Sun's arms drop from around my neck, and I slowly let go of his waist. But the combination of all the social interactions I've had, the calming melody of the slow song, and the emotions that I've been feeling tonight finally catch up to me, and I can't hold back a huge yawn after I let him go.
"Are you tired?" he asks.
"Maybe," I admit.
Sun slips his phone out of an inside pocket of his jacket – and wow, I've never been so jealous of a man's suit jacket before – and checks the time. "It's past eleven – the lock-in is over," he says. "Do you want to head out?"
I nod, and Sun offers to go grab our shoes from the window where we discarded them. I had almost forgotten that we'd taken them off at all. I remind him to grab my shawl, too. We put on our shoes and I put on my shawl, and then we join the crowd of people who have also decided that now is a great time to leave the dance.
Trying to fit so many people through a single pair of doors all at once is a slow process, and I find myself swaying on my feet a little as we wait. Sun glances over at me and says, "You can use my shoulder if you want."
I blink dazedly at him. "What?"
"Lean on my shoulder, if you want," he offers. "You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."
I blink a couple more times before deciding that I wouldn't mind having a shoulder to lean on, and I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. He shuffles forward a bit then, and I decide that this isn't the most comfortable position. I adjust my shawl so it hangs more over my shoulders than my arms, throw my arms around Sun, and turn my head so my cheek rests on his shoulder. I feel him shift a little underneath me – perhaps turning his head so he can look at me – but I keep my eyes shut for the rest of our shuffle out of the ballroom.
Finally, Sun pats my arm and says, "Hey, Moon…wakey wakey…"
I yawn and blink my eyes open as I let go of Sun. We're now outside of the ballroom where it's a lot less congested, so we can walk at a normal pace. "Thank you," I murmur. Sun just smiles.
We walk together back to the parking lot of the restaurant, and Sun gives me back my keys and wallet. I half expect him to leave me there and head back to his car. But he asks me where I parked and walks with me back to my car. After I open the door, he clears his throat, and I turn back to look at him.
He rocks a little on his feet and says, "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely, okay?"
"What a gentleman," I smirk.
Sun blushes. "But, seriously," he says, "promise me you'll text?"
"I promise," I say.
Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I impulsively lean forward and give Sun a little kiss on the cheek.
He gapes at me, and I quickly jump into my car before he remembers how to speak. I turn my keys in the ignition and bring the car out of park before looking back towards Sun. His expression still hasn't changed. I offer him a shy smile and a wave before pulling out of the parking space and driving away.
It's not until I'm halfway home that I realize I never returned the gold-leaf circlet to the photo booth.
Moon: I'm home
Sun: great! :D
S: so
S: how was your first school dance
S: did you have fun?
S: moon?
M: Yeah
S: really
S: you were typing for like
S: 20 minutes
S: and all you have to say is yeah?
M: I'm not having this conversation over text
S: wait what does that mean
A/N: For simplicity's sake, I've been trying to avoid referencing actual pop culture in this story, substituting Pokémon-themed references instead or just making stuff up. However, the "disc-shaped shield" and matching sunglasses in this chapter are a reference to Captain America – I held a Cap shield and wore Cap sunglasses in my own photo booth pics at prom – and the song that Moon's excited to dance to is absolutely intended to be the Cupid Shuffle. I cannot resist dancing to that song whenever I hear it. It's a curse.
Whatever could Moon mean by that cryptic last text? Find out...sometime next week!
