Page 3 of Faking Summer
From my bed, my friends' giggles and cheers erupted, filled with mischief and encouragement.
Cooper let out a long, drawn-out sigh, the kind that meant his patience was being tried. "Are you serious?" he asked, skeptically.
"You have to help her," Sam piped up. "She's going to dance with the cutest boy in sixth grade!" She was almost begging. It was the same hope I felt, to not make a fool of myself in front of Reese.
"Does Mom know you’re going to this dance?" Cooper asked, curiously. But I knew he was giving in.
"Y-yes, she does," I stammered, feeling the weight of his protective gaze. "Can you help me now?"
"Fine," Cooper finally relented, his voice full of an older brother's unspoken contract to guard his sister's heart.
"Stand here," he directed, positioning me with hands that had lost their childhood clumsiness and were now replaced with teenage grace. I watched, entranced by the transformation from annoyance to instructor as he took my right hand in his left and placed my other hand on his shoulder.
"Relax, Caroline," he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Just follow my lead." And so we began, swaying to the rhythm of Ed Sheeran.
I stumbled once, twice, laughter bubbling out. Sam and Stacey were still perched on my bed in their curlers and pajamas. They watched with wide eyes, their giggles soft and sweet.
"This is actually kinda fun. Maybe I’ll ask Mom to sign me up for dance class," I said with a laugh. “See? You're getting it,” Cooper encouraged. For a fleeting second, I saw not just my brother but the young man he was becoming—the one who unknowingly turned heads as he passed by others.
The song ended, and Cooper released me, a mock bow accompanying his retreat. "There. Don't step on the guy's feet too much," heteased, ruffling my hair before he walked out, closing the door behind him. I collapsed onto the bed, the springs creaking under the sudden weight.
"Your brother is really cute," Sam whispered, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Do you think he'd take me to the dance?"
With a gasp of disgust, I grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at her, igniting a burst of feathers and laughter. We tumbled into each other, a tangled mess of limbs and giggles until sleep wrapped around us, pulling us gently into our dreams.
At school on the day of the dance, I found myself trapped in the worst kind of war zone—dodging rubber missiles while the stench of sweaty gym socks and old floor polish clung to the air. Crouched in the back, I braced for impact, questioning why this torture was considered physical education. "My mom let me get the short blue dress," I murmured, glancing at Sam and Stacy, who were also just hoping to make it out alive.
“Thank goodness,” Sam grunted, hiding behind Stacey. “She was determined to make you wear Charlotte’s old one.”
Time froze as a ball rocketed toward me, a blur of an incoming disaster. It was then that Reese came out of nowhere, intercepting the ball, catching it just inches from my face.
"Looks like you owe me for that save," Reese teased, and my body froze. His voice had that effortless flirt to it, almost as if he was reassuring me that he was just as excited as I was about the dance. To anyone else, it was just a casual snag, barely a moment at all. But to me? It was everything. My brain short-circuited, my heart did some kind of palpitation, and I was pretty sure I was about five seconds away from melting into a puddle of swoony mess. My lips parted, but I lost my ability to speak. I could only manage a smile before he wound up and hurled the ball back at the other team.
"Girl, he just saved your life," Sam whispered in awe.
Stacey, ever the hopeless romantic, clasped her hands over her heart. "For the first time in my life, I think I'm seeing reallove before my eyes," she breathed out, her sentiment coming from every rom-com we ever watched together.
Laughter rippled between us as we skipped our way back to the locker rooms. Our laughter and excitement never stopped—it rode with us, all the way home and as we got ready for the dance.
When the dance had finally arrived, my mom pulled up to the curb, then turned to me.
"You know," she began, letting a smile break free, "I met your father at a school dance."
I unbuckled my seatbelt. "I know, Mom."
"I heard there might be a cute boy you're going with tonight," she added.
"Really, you're being so embarrassing," I muttered, turning away to hide the blush on my face.
"Have fun, sweetheart," she said, as I pushed the door open. "I'll have cookies at home waiting for you to tell me all about it."
"Thanks," I shouted, stepping out into the night, and closing the car door behind me.
The gymnasium was lit up with starlights, transforming our middle school dance into pre-teen enchantment. Sam, Stacey, and I arrived in a whirlwind of satin and tulle, the scent of hairspray and sweet perfume trailing behind us like pixie dust. Our dresses, meticulously chosen to flatter and sparkle, rustled as we moved. Mine was the color of midnight to match Reese's dark blue attire.
"Remember to breathe," Stacey whispered, her fingers gently rearranging a stray curl that framed my face.
"This is your night, girl," Sam added, beaming at me with a confidence I desperately tried to mirror. "Live it up for all of us." Their hands on my shoulders felt like the passing of a baton as they walked me to the punch station, their pep talk infusing me with borrowed bravery.
