“Yeeesssss! Go, Cesar!” I shout when Cesar gets on the floor and spins on his butt.
A few people form a circle around them and I lose my view. Everyone is clapping and cheering them on. Bo and I go up to the circle for a better look. After a couple of rounds, Cesar notices me.
“Sorry, Yami!” Jamal says, as they both grab my arms and pull me into the middle of the cypher. He and Cesar must have coordinated an attack. They run away, and I’m frozen. I like dancing, but I don’t know how to freestyle on the spot like them. I pull Bo in so I’m not alone, and she happily joins me.
With a completely straight face, she starts waving her limbs around like one of those inflatable arm-flailing tube-man thingies. I have to admire it for a minute before I can move, because she’s too cute. I can’t leave her hanging, so I shrug and flail my limbs around with her. We’re not trying to dance well, and it’s much more fun this way. There’s something exhilarating about letting go and spinning around and flailing your arms and shit. Movement can be messy and wild and free. We’re the only two people in the world for a minute. Until Amber and David flail their arms, too. Before we know it, we’re surrounded by inflatable arm-flailing tube people. We started a Thing. Nice.
After a few arm-flaily songs, my sides are on fire. Apparently, being an inflatable dude is hard work. If I do that once a week, I’ll be set for life.
“I need a break,” I wheeze, hunched over. Bo laughs and leads me outside to get some water. We grab some chips too, and go to sit down. Even though a lot of people are dancing inside, outside is packed, too. Almost all the chairs are filled, so we sit out on the grass, at a spot a little removed from all the chairs.
There’s at least a hundred people here. I wouldn’t be surprised if every single person of color who goes to Slayton is in Bo’s house right now. All twenty-three of us.
Bo is leaning back on her palms, and I put a hand on top of hers. She leans her head on my shoulder.
“I can’t believe you asked me to prom,” Bo says.
“I can’t believe you asked me to anti-prom.” I kiss the top of her head. I can’t see her face, but I hope she’s blushing. We sit in a perfect silence for a few minutes until Jamal comes over.
“Where’s Cesar?” Bo asks.
“Probably still dancing. I don’t know, it got crowded and I lost him.”
“Want to sit with us?” I let go of Bo’s hand and pat the ground next to me so he doesn’t feel like a third wheel.
He lies down instead of sitting.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’m out of shape,” he says.
“I feel that.” I laugh and lie down, too. Bo does the same. I could fall asleep right now. I haven’t had a lick of alcohol, but I’m exhausted. I woke up so early, and I’ve been more than a little emotionally drained lately. I close my eyes.
My two-second nap is ruined by Cesar dogpiling on all three of us. Bo and Jamal both make cute little yelp noises, but Cesar’s elbow got my side, so the noise that comes out of me is more like a donkey getting kicked in the balls. Cesar and Bo laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“Okay, if y’all are done making fun of my pain now, I’m gonna go inside.” I start to sit up, but Bo grabs my hand.
“We’re not making fun of you! It was cute!” She’s still laughing.
“Nope, I’m definitely making fun of you,” Cesar says. I shoot him a mean look. Bo, too.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, it was funny, okay?” Bo gives my palm little kisses between phrases, and it makes it hard for me to pretend to be mad.
Cesar crawls between me and Jamal so he’s sandwiched in between us. “I love you guys. I don’t know you that much, Bo, but if Yami loves you, so do I.”