D is for Dancing in the Dark #AtoZChallenge

Now we’re on a roll . . . or something.

In the Dark

“Mexican pizza is a wonderful thing. Margaritas are a wonderful thing. And you’re wonderful, a wonderful guy.”

“You aren’t going to feel so wonderful tomorrow.”

“But I feel so good right now,” I said, my tongue trying to wrap itself around words. My eyes widened.

“You need water. Lots of water.”

And then I heard it. “Bruce!”

I was on the dance floor before Tom could stop me and was dancing like a drunk ballerina. Actually, I was dancing far worse than a drunk ballerina. Perhaps a rhinoceros?

I let the music fill my blood, my bones. Finally, 21. Wasn’t this when all of the great stuff happened? This was great stuff, celebrating with Tom. Tom. Where was Tom? There. At the bar talking to the bartender who handed him a glass of water. For me. Of course. He was the best boy friend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend? And then Kim sidled up next to him, gave him a half-hug and a kiss that he turned in to so that their mouths met. Neither pulled away.

I stopped dancing. It felt like the margaritas drained from my system making me more sober than I ever been in my life.

Maybe I was dancing in the dark.


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