Mark stood on the top of the hill and looked at the house. Through the windows several people were drinking and dancing.
He closed his eyes and breathed in several breaths. Then plodded down the hill towards the house. As he came up to the large house, a girl was at the doorway. He noticed her hair. Blonde, reached just past her ears, and with large curves in it like blonde waves.
“Welcome,” she said.
“Thanks” he said, he waved stiffly.
Then two guys from his gym class who he never talked to, came up to him and slapped his back like they were good friends.
“I didn’t see you come in.” said Troy.
“Have you found the beer yet?” said Smith. “Come on it’s this way.” Mark followed.
“Thanks,” Mark reached into a cooler and fished around till he pulled out a Coors. One of them gave another slap on his back, “Catch ya later,” one called out as they left.
He saw some people gathering around a room. He started to make his way there.
“Stop,” said a short Asian girl with black angular glasses on, a palm outstretched. “You can’t go in there.”
“Why not? What’s going on??”
“It’s a seance.” She gave a sideways smile at him.
“You don’t actually believe that stuff do you?” He asked, one eye brow cocked up.
“Get back to the party.” She pushed up her glasses with her finger then grabbed his arm and turned his direction back to the living room.
“Alright.” He shrugged defiantly. He twisted open his beer, the top came up with a pop. The top dropped to the floor and he bent to pick it up. He placed it in his pocket till he could find a receptacle for it. Then he took a long swig and sat in the middle of the couch. Some people were dancing together to the pop music playing. A few people were talking in the corner behind him.
A tall and very attractive girl sat next to him. “Aren’t you going to join the party? I mean why did you come here if all you were going to do is sit on your butt by yourself? Couldn’t you do that at home?”
“No. When I am home it isn’t the same as when I’m here, hence the sitting is different also.”
“Well I guess you’re too busy to dance.” She turned around, her long strawberry blonde hair swinging with her.
“Wait.” She turned and looked at him. “Okay, I will.” He got up.
She turned her hips naturally, the way the ocean’s tides seamlessly flip. He just stood there. She smiled, but it wasn’t cheery smile, more like a patiently waiting smile. Like when a mother smiles at her kid when the kid is taking a really long time getting dressed and the mother looks at the clock figuring just how long the kid could take before they would be irreparably late. Instead of getting pissed she shows her loving support by smiling instead, it ‘says look kid I am not overly happy with you but I am going to show my support by smiling so you know I still love you,’ but the kid knows they better hurry up or mom will stop smiling pretty quick as her last nerve starts to wear and then things aren’t going to be so nice.
So he faked it, did what he saw everyone else doing and pretended it was the most natural thing. He was a little disappointed to find that it worked.