Dislaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 6 - Dance Fever

The next month flows by in a hurry. Time doesn't particularly care for humans, their foibles, or their infatuations.

The night I dreamed of Lynn was only the first of many. Each time, the dream is the same, with some minor variations. Sometimes there is no candle, and it takes me even longer to find her room. Some other times the lights outside the house are many and very bright, as if we had moved to a larger city. The substance of my dream never changes. Despite all my efforts, I can never get close to her.

In far-off dreamscapes, it saddens me.

In reality, the glacial silence between us feels natural and unavoidable.

I can't help stealing rare glances in her direction, but by and large staying away doesn't require too much effort. I have admitted to myself that I have a pretty major crush on this impossible girl, but I bask in my irritation with her behavior and reciprocate her disinterest on a daily basis, often reminding myself that soon the school year will be over. Once in a while I dare to voice, deep inside my mind where nobody can hear me, the crazy hope that one day we could talk again like we did the first time. I miss being so free to express myself, not having to play the role of shy student I've chosen for most of my life. It's fine. I'm sure those fantasies will soon come to an end.

Meantime, I focus on my grades and my hope of going to college. I hike a lot, play soccer with the school's team and even and make sure dad eats more than bacon and eggs. Some weekends I go to the Quileutes reservation to hang out with Jacob and Rebecca. She rarely shows up at my place. She's not into baseball, but she's happy to go on short hikes with us and share her knowledge of local plants and legends with me. Jacob makes fun of her for that. Rebecca, my age but one year older than him, quickly rebukes him. Other times I play soccer with Jacob while she pretends to cheer for us. Being with them brings back distant memories.

Most days, the usual high school dramas completely absorb my cafeteria friends. I pay as little attention as possible, certain of my lack of involvement in any of them, but still end up having to lend a shoulder to cry on once in a while, metaphorically speaking since guys usually avoid displays of emotion. I vaguely realize that Mike likes Jessica, but is open to other possibilities. Eric flirts with many girls, but he's too sensitive to have a lot of success. It's hard to tell what Angela thinks; she's always so quiet. I think Eric should ask her out, but what do I know? Jeff is always with Lauren, and really into her, and sometimes they sit on their own at lunch. His sister sometimes joins us. Jessica often follows me around, but I think she just enjoys the popularity that comes from hanging out with the new guy, who also happens to be the survivor of this high school's potentially most gruesome accident in known history. I think she's into Mike, or maybe another guy on the football team. I don't really care. As the month comes to an end, though, they all seem to be going into a higher gear in terms of excitement. In a week, there will be a dance.

"It's going to be awesome, guys. The theme is 'raves'. We'll have club music, non-alcoholic cocktails, strobes, the works. And by the way, it's first choice, so ladies," Eric eyes the girls at our table suggestively, his dark eyes narrowing, "make sure you invite a partner of your preference soon, before all the great guys are taken."

Tyler and Mike rib him, the girls squeal and chatter animatedly in a tight cluster. Jeff mentions with pride that his girl, Lauren, already asked him. The girls should erase his name from their lists. I look at the Cullens, but as usual they're just nibbling on their food and paying little attention to the rest of the world. I still envy them and yet feel sorry for them. I must be losing my mind.

Oh well, it's Friday and I have a soccer game after school. At least I have something to look forward to. Usually we play on weekends but I'm glad today is an exception. I'm just a little worried by the anxious glances some girls seem to cast in my direction. Actually, my extensive hiking with poles has filled out my upper body and got rid of my hunched posture. Some ladies seem to have noticed too. I'm still pretty confident they won't ask me to the dance; my conversation skills haven't improved much. Besides, I'd rather go to the dentist than spend a whole evening listening to house music. Once again, I'm on a different page from anybody else. I suppose I will be single for a long time.

Eventually we head to class and I go to my table. Lynn is already there, busy scrutinizing cracks in the room's paint job. Jessica sits on our desk and chats with me. Since Lynn never pays me any attention, I find Jessica's company a pleasant distraction from the cold war I've been waging with my deskmate. After the accident, Jessica seemed worried I might become closer to Lynn, grateful for her help, but the whole thing seems to have had the opposite effect. With Lynn reduced to a mute spectator, Jessica has been growing in confidence. Mrs. Morrison hasn't come in yet, and her tone changes.

"Brandon, you are always so quiet. It's hard to tell what you're thinking…"

"Nothing particularly interesting, Jessica, trust me." I reply, teasing. Sometimes being mysterious pays off. This way she doesn't know how far away from here my mind really is.

"I will be the judge of that, once I finally get you to be more outspoken. I think the dance would be a perfect time….."

"I'm sorry. A perfect time…."

"To get to know each other better, silly. I would like to take you to the dance Brandon." She seems a little upset by my apparent confusion, now, but laughs when she realizes I'm just clueless.

"Oh Jessica…"I stammer, thinking of a way out. Actually, part of me is rejoicing. A pretty girl is asking me to the dance. When I was in Phoenix I dreamed of this moment so many times. But the music will be absolutely awful at this particular event, and I don't really have anything in common with Jessica. I must have gone insane but I know I cannot accept her invitation. Lynn, in the meantime, has tilted her head toward us, as if interested in the conversation.

"I'm so happy you asked me. I really didn't expect it. To be honest with you, in Phoenix nobody ever asked me out. Unfortunately, though, I can't go. I'm sorry. I already have plans to go to Seattle. I have some errands to run. I'm an awful dancer anyways, trust me, you're better off without me."

"Can't you go another day? None of us is good at dancing. You won't be the only one."

"No, I'm sorry Jessica. I really can't."

"Did someone already ask you?" She demands in a slightly peeved tone while frowning in Lynn's direction. Maybe she also noticed her reaction. She's still leaning toward us, but looking at the whiteboard. She doesn't react to Jessica's words or to her glare.

"Jessica, come on. I just told you I'm going to Seattle. Nobody asked me and if somebody did it wouldn't matter because I will be out of town. Between me and you, though, I think Mike was hoping you'd choose him. I'm sure he's still available but if you don't hurry I'm sure some other girl will snatch him up."

"Oh, alright then. I'll think about it." She says, before slinking back to her desk, a little depressed. I have a look at Lynn, imagining her as glacially impassive as usual, and I'm surprised when I find her openly staring at me. Her expression is calm, neutral, but her eyes have an odd intensity. She's not smiling, but she's not scowling either. I don't think I've seen her quite like this since the time I played music next to her.

Today she is a little different though. If this wasn't Lynn Cullen, one of the hottest girls in the school and certainly the strongest, I would almost imagine she's trying to find the courage to ask me something. She never utters a word, though, just quietly looks at me, a tiny v-shaped frown creasing her brow. I notice her eyes are dark again today, almost like onyx. When Mrs. Morrison asks her a question, she turns toward our teacher, with what appears to be reluctance, and gives her the expected answer.

When class ends, Lynn is still in her seat, barely moving, still staring at me. I look back but lose myself in her eyes, mesmerized and yet puzzled by her sudden interest. When I recover control over my body I start turning away. I have to get my stuff and get a move on.

"Brandon?" she says. I'd almost forgotten how melodious her voice can be, but she's been very rude to me for a whole month now. My irritation colors my voice.

"You can still talk then? I thought you had forgotten how to, unless called upon to do so by a teacher. Are we on speaking terms again, all of a sudden?"

She chuckles a little, but it's a wry, hollow sound.

"I shouldn't be talking to you, no. So, maybe not."

"The sphynx was a lot less cryptic than you, you know. Anyways, if we are not talking, what do you want?" This is good. It's better to be a little angry. At least I won't say anything stupid. Probably.

She scrunches her face a little, but when she speaks again she sounds sincere, almost eager to be believed.

"I'm being very rude, I know. I just wanted to apologize, I suppose. It's for the best."

"Alright, whatever, not that I understand a word you say. If you regret saving me just say so. I guess if you had let that truck squash me like a bug you wouldn't have to share your desk with me." Maybe my words are harsh. She has never really said that, but I need to be angry. Anything else is too dangerous.

"You think I regret saving you?" She asks back, just as mad.

"I'd say you made it pretty obvious." I stammer as I pick up my stuff and head to the door.

"You don't know what you're talking about…" Her frown becomes even more pronounced. Darn, she's also cute when she's irate. Better be careful though. I don't want to be smacked around by somebody who can stop a van with one arm. It doesn't matter. We just glower at each other for a few seconds and then I walk out. For a wild, crazy second I have the insane notion that she might want to say something more to me, maybe call me, ask me to wait. Of course she never does.

In the next class I'm still feeling a little cranky. At least, as long as she avoided me I could limit my pathetic, hopeless pining to my dreams. Now, focusing on the lesson or the inane banter around me is just hopeless. Some days she hates me, others she talks to me, then she ignores me, and finally she makes more riddle-like, maddening comments. Is she trying to keep me awake at night? How can a growing boy get his sleep? I spend the hour whining to myself and pretending to listen to our history lesson. When the bell rings I ask Angela if I can borrow her notes later on. She agrees, but then stutters a few comments about the weather. I patiently make the appropriate sounds, but eventually I realize she's leading up to something.

"You know, I haven't asked any boy to take me to the dance yet…. I was wondering, if, maybe, you'd… like to go with me…" She finally says, looking at the floor by that time and blushing something fierce. For a split second, I'm tempted to accept. It would be hard to deal with Jessica later, but I could always tell her that Mike has a major crush on her and I didn't want to upset a friend. Or maybe I could tell her that my plans have changed.

The thing is…. I do like Angela. She's shy, like me, and she's quite sweet. She's cute too. Unfortunately, my heart is not really into it and I like her too much to lead her on. Someone else is on my mind, for better or for worse. I also remind myself that there will be house music. Yuck.

"Angela, I will be out of town that Saturday. I'm going to Seattle. I'm really happy you asked me, but listen, I want to be honest with you, there is another reason I can't accept your invitation."

She looks unhappy now, but that won't last.

"It's not about you, Angela, I really mean it. The truth is, I know Eric was really hoping you'd ask him. You know he's my friend right? And he also plays on the soccer team. He would feel really bad if you went out with me."

"He would? But we often work together on the school paper and he has never… And he flirts with many girls..."

"Angela, he's a guy. He's trying to look cool but he's really shy with girls he truly likes. Ask him out. I'm sure you two will have a great time."

"Okay, Brandon. Thank you. You're a good friend."

"I'd like to be."

Well, that wasn't too bad, but as I head to the truck to get my gear I'm starting to also feel a little mad. I even grumble to myself, like an old man. Not one but two girls asked me to the dance. Two. Not long ago I would have been ecstatic and I would have certainly accepted. Now I turn them both down because the music is garbage and, if I have to be honest with myself, I can't rip Lynn Cullen's smile out of my mind. Once again, I can only remind myself that the year is almost over, and that it's time for a soccer game.

When we come out of the dressing rooms to warm up, we are surprised to see that many other kids stayed at school to watch us play. They've spread out along the cheap, rain-drenched plastic bleachers. Lauren, Jeff's girl, brought Angela, Jessica, and even Mike. A few other people I know loiter in other groups. I supose watching a game is a good excuse to stay at school a little longer to hang out with friends and talk about the dance instead of doing homework.

I scan the crowd one more time, while Eric frets about playing in front of so many people. Wait a minute. Isn't that…. Yes….. Two of the Cullens have actually showed up. Alice, the tiny beauty, and Lynn herself. I didn't know they were interested in soccer.

We start stretching, and Jeff decides to have a quick chat with me.

"Arizona, dude, do you have any plans for the dance…?"

"Why do you ask?" I'm definitely curious now. Why would he care about whether I'm gong or not? My eyes still focus on Lynn and Alice. Could Lynn be here because of me?

"I'm not good at this man, but I promised…."

"Huh?" What is he talking about? Alice is pulling on her sister's sleeve. Lynn seems to be concentrating hard on something.

"My sister asked me to find out if you had already agreed to go with somebody. She was thinking of inviting you…" He doesn't blush as easily as I do, but he looks downcast. I'm flattered by all the attention, but I made up my mind.

"Sorry man, I'm going to Seattle that day." This is starting to get a little annoying, I suppose he hadn't heard.

"Oh, okay. Jessica said something about that."

"So why did you even ask?" Definitely annoyed now. I feel my nose and forehead pucker.

"I thought you were just letting her off easy."

"No, Jeff, I really have other plans."

"I'm going with Angela." Eric says. I look at Lynn again. She seems to be laughing and Alice is whispering something in her ear. The coach instructs us to do some jogging.

I refocus on sports. It's cloudy, but so far it's been pretty dry. I hope it doesn't start pouring. We complete our warm up and the game starts. I'm glad. I welcome the distraction. The whistle goes and I concentrate on keeping my position while trying to remain aware of the movement of teammates and opponents. I forget my family, my homework, my crush. It's all a blur in the margins of the field. Our opponents are from a larger school, and they often have the initiative. Most of the first half I'm just busy shadowing their left winger. He's quick but easy to read and anticipate. I lock down my side and occasionally Jeff and Eric combine in the offensive zone to relieve the pressure.

In the second half our opponents seem to tire, and we hold possession a little better. We trade goals and both teams create a few more chances, but ten minutes from the end we are still tied. Our opponents play a long ball toward their left winger. We jump together for the ball. I chest it down and try to protect it while I find a pass, but he crashes into me from behind, pretty much running me over. It's a free kick in our favor, but when I get up a sharp chest pain jolts me. I grimace and bend over.

"Dude, you okay?" Jeff, our captain, concerned. I've been playing soccer for a while and I'm pretty sure I know the problem: a cracked rib. Most likely just a hairline fracture. It's not the first time. I straighten up and take a few cautious steps. Every time my foot hits the ground I feel like a sharp blade is poking my ribs. I should get off the pitch. At the moment I just have a minor injury, but any severe physical contact could worsen it considerably. We have made all our subs, however, so if I go off my team will be shorthanded. I decide to keep on playing.

"I'm fine, captain. I'll finish the game."

He nods and goes back to his position. I take the free kick but play it short, to one of the center backs. I have to try to avoid hitting the ball too hard. I know it's going to hurt if I do. Every step and every kick of the ball send fresh pain impulses to my brain and elicit louder grunts from me. I keep on playing. I might be a crybaby when it comes to certain things but I won't let my team down.

The game is still tied, and now there is only injury time left. Maybe a minute of it. We win a free kick close to the opponents' box. Eric usually takes those but he was subbed off. Jeff comes to talk to me.

"Can you take it?" He asks directly.

"Sure."

"Put it at the far post, like we did in practice."

"I'll try."

He looks at me for half a second, nods melodramatically, and runs to his position. I shake my head and focus on forgetting about my injury and putting enough power as necessary in my kick. Three steps and a swing with my right leg, but as soon as my boot makes contact with the ball pain skewers my chest and I groan loudly. The free-kick sails toward Jeff and he overpowers the defender marking him to direct a header past the goalie and into the net. The final whistle ensues and some of our friends come congratulate us. I'm glad the others only celebrated with Jeff; I couldn't take any hugs right now. I look for the Cullens. Lynn and Alice look at me as they walk away. After a shower, I have to head to the hospital for X-rays. I don't see Dr. Cullen this time, but as imagined I have a hairline fracture. I will probably only miss two or three weeks of practice. I'm glad I finished this game since I won't be playing for a bit.

When I get home I reassure dad first, and later mum, on the phone, that I'm fine. My mum in particular is a bit of a nervous nelly when it comes to her son and soccer. I have to pretend to listen to her rant a little longer than usual. She just needs to vent her frustration with the distance between us.

When I retire to my room I finish my homework and distract myself with a novel I haven't read yet, some silly fantasy about aliens. Eventually I have to stop and think about the weird day I had. First, I found out I'm not as unpopular as I used to be. I guess being the new guy in town really does have advantages in a small community. Either that or it's a serious case of dance fever.

I also found out that I'm still a weirdo with a deep-seated allergy to house music. And all the excuses I'm making won't change the fact that I still have an awful crush on Lynn, which reminds me… What was she even doing at the game, with Alice? I bet most of the guys were watching them rather than the soccer. I also find it a little odd that Lynn seemed amused when Jeff asked me about the dance for his sister, or upset when I was playing injured. It's like she just came because she was interested in me, and she could hear me despite the distance, but that's impossible. Yet, I can't think of another explanation. This line of thought is somehow worsening my injury. When I inhale too sharply pain radiates across my chest. I manage to forget about it. I'm sure tomorrow Lynn will be back to her usual iceberg-like self. Part of me, though, still clings to the pathetic hope that she might not.