When Flowers Dance | Teen Ink

When Flowers Dance

September 10, 2017
By WibblyWobblyMadLib SILVER, Muskogee, Oklahoma
WibblyWobblyMadLib SILVER, Muskogee, Oklahoma
6 articles 0 photos 6 comments

The dance was supposed to end soon, but everyone was still going strong, showing no signs that they were going to stop. Viscaria feet were aching from jumping up and down, spinning, and sliding. She sat on the rail that sectioned off the game room from the dance floor, that doubled as a roller skating rink.
Her friends gravitated toward, wanting to dance, but not wanting to abandon their friend. The four girls’ hair was frizzy and falling from the once pretty hairstyles; at that point, they didn’t care, they only wanted to dance and scream the lyrics to their favorite songs.
As her friends danced and sang, Viscaria sat looking for a certain person. There. He was standing outside the ring of jumping kids, hands shoved in pockets, looking around awkwardly. Why is that so dang cute! She thought; she thought that every time he did that.
She had known been watching him all school year, occasionally daring to talk to him (she wasn’t as shy as she used to be with people), but it had always been small talk. He was considered hot, by most girl standards, but he was really quiet and didn’t talk to a lot of people unless he was spoken to.
Viscaria sat up straight, getting down from the rail. She was tired of him looking as if he was distraught about something. This might be the only dance this school would have, after all, they had to convince the principal to let them have it in the first place.
“Let’s go dance with Cam,” she said, walking through her friends. They followed her, dumbfounded at what she was doing. History was about to go down, for the first time, she was going to say something other than ‘what’s up’ to him.
“Dance,” she commanded to him, attempting to look normal. She motioned him to the circle, and Viscaria began to move. He followed her, mumbling under his breath on how he couldn’t dance.
“Don’t think about it,” Lilly, her friend, stepped in, saving her from having to find something to say, “just flap your arms and shuffle your feet. No one is judging you, we’re all doing the same.”
A line began to form, people, running around the floor in a large squiggling line. Viscaria pulled Cam into the line beside her, and together they waved their hands as they jogged around. He was right, he couldn’t dance, but neither could she, and that’s what made the moment beautiful.
As the line began to slow down, the song changed, and Let Me Love You began to play. The story of my life. She thought to herself as she looked up at Cam, who was now thoroughly enjoying himself. He’s smiling. That was rare. She didn’t like him because he was hot, or because he liked the same books (though that played into it, a lot.) It was because she knew that if she dug deep enough, she would find the sun that was inside of him. The one that warmed her whole body up when he smiled.
As she ran away in thought, she didn’t notice that they had started a weird dance where there was a couple who grabbed hands, then hopped their way across the floor.
“Do you want to try?” his quiet voice asked, pointing towards the others.
Viscaria came back to life, smiled, and replied that she certainly would. He clutched her hands, and they followed the previous group. His hands were warm, and she could feel the callouses on the pads of his hand. She was pulled closer to him, and Cam’s aroma filled her lungs, and she savored the smell. He was her favorite smell, and no one could tell her otherwise.

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