The silence after the final bell was almost eerie. Our school is never silent- ever-and it was like someone had hit a giant mute button. It was unreal. No one moved. No one spoke. No one breathed. It was incredible, really, the sight; hundreds of children, ranging from under five feet to over six feet, all standing perfectly still in a layer of streamers, glitter, and popped bubbles.
Finally, someone (who sounded suspiciously like Nero) let out a long whoop, untainted and loud and pure. One by one, more voices joined his, varying in pitch and key, but there all the same. I let my jaw drop and let my voice fly out, let it rocket and ricochet through the tiled halls. I didn't let it die until I was absolutely out of breath, and even then I was reluctant to close my lips. When they did, they twisted into a grin.
I heard a bike clatter to the ground and light, quick footsteps. Then I felt weight being shoved up my back and onto my shoulders. I winced and realized Nadia had just run up my back and climbed onto my shoulders; I recognized the soles of her shoes. She stood on my shoulders, one foot on each, and let loose a Native American battle cry. The student body replied with roars of joy and more battle cries. I shuddered, letting Nadia leap from my back.
I rubbed my shoulders and caught Seth's arm as every person enrolled in the performing arts electives rushed to the back hall, where the party was being held in Ms. Jedd's class. She was a theater teacher, which meant that if she cleared out her room, there would be enough room to hold everyone.
I was having trouble believing that until we were slammed through the door, and were met with the best party environment anyone could ask for. Strobe lights tucked into hidden spots, glow sticks dangling from the ceiling, dim lights, mirrors set up on the walls, glowing splatter paint on the ceiling over said glow sticks, and, oh, the space! So open! It truly was incredible.
Once the last of the students charged through the door (which was kept open for the sake of air) a friend of mine from seventh grade by the name of Simon Ngo stepped behind a sleek turntables table, put on a nondescript record with a zealous twirl, and happily put a set of headphones around his neck. He dropped the needle onto the outermost groove and held one earphone to his head, testing the sound.
With a starting record-scratch that could only be described as "fricki-fricki!", Simon set the jam (sorry, I honestly have no better fitting word than that) to a Black Eyed Peas song. Tunh charged onto the dance floor before anyone could stop him and broke out dancing, pulling out moves that a klutzy white girl like me should never attempt.
Faith joined him in all of fifteen seconds, rolling over his back while he was maintaining an insanely skilled flare and earning a well deserved burst in applause. Her Jordans flew off in the process and whacked Selena in the face, but hey, that's what pre-adolescent after school party/ danceoffs are all about, right?
... Right?!
... No?
... Oh. Oops. My bad.
Well, despite whether parties are meant to be enjoyed for their amusing social (and occasionally violent) tendencies or the enjoyment of friends and mentors, Tunh and Faith continued their little dance- duet (although little really isn't the best phrase for it) throughout the duration of Boom Boom Pow, Tunh keeping a steady rhythm and base, Faith building more off the melody.
Fits them, though I have classes with neither, and they're both my elders by a year, or, in Tunh's case, two years. However, a tournament and a festival with both gave my theory some truth. Tunh was funny and sarcastic (even in the silver tights, pink tutu, and blonde wig he had worn for his Cyndi Lauper lip sync); Faith was airy (not airheaded, airy) and flighty. The theory holds. I win.
As the last slightly whiny note faded out, Tunh tumbled off the circle that was cleared off and marked as a dance floor, and Faith did a roundoff after him. Every person that was in the room applauded, save Tunh and Faith, and in turn, people started streaming onto the dance floor.
I, however, stayed away from it. For years I had been chastised (mainly by Rose) about my "white girl moves" and I had since learned not to attempt anything that included dancing. So I instead attacked the snacks table. It was 2:45 and I hadn't eaten since 10:45. That was four consecutive hours without food; I was going to eat, whether I looked like a pig or not, because gosh darn it, I. Was. Hungry.
I grabbed a handful of jelly beans and poured them into my mouth, following it up with a stream of Sprite. Personally, I would have preferred a nice large bottle of blackberry Izze, but beggars can't be choosers. To my relief, I saw that I wasn't the only one snacking; Nadia was practically burying her face in a tomato about the size of a softball.
I honestly had no idea how she got a hold of it, so I followed Codi Law Number 23c: Don't question where or how Nadia gets information or objects. What you don't know won't hurt you. Or me. I shrugged and bit into an Oreo and let Nadia tear apart her tomato. I scanned the room casually, guzzling down another load of lemon lime goodness.
It looked like Tunh and Nero were in the midst of possibly the most hilarious rap battle ever (Nero was winning by a long shot), Faith was teaching Luz a cute little dance routine off to one side, Rose was shrieking with laughter as Brett chased her around the room with a grin plastered across his cheeks, Jake was giving Taylor a piggy back ride, and Jackson and his girlfriend Cat were dancing and laughing in the most adorable way ever, which was befitting of the cutest couple at Bern.
And Seth was leaning over Helena again, smiling softly and splitting a cookie in half with her.
Instantly, every sound in the room became distant and I started to tremble.
Oh God. Not this. Not now.
I dropped my Sprite can in the trash and slipped into the hall silently.
I had to run. I always ran when my depression resurfaced, or when things weren't working out right. I would run until everything made sense again. Correction: I would run until everything made sense the way I needed it to.
So I ran.
