For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for these two, their lives have been planned down to a science.
For Wylan Olson, being yourself can be very stressful. Since she was young, her emotions have always been backwards. The e...
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People pressed themselves together, swaying rhythmically to the tune of the song. I couldn't focus on the tune of the song that played because I was dodging the sporadic movements of my date. I tried stifling a giggle as he jerked in his suit.
For once, they take a girl's song request. Kwame tried taking my other hand nervously. "I've been stepping on your feet all night. Do you want to just sit—" I stopped him right there.
"No Okra, I've told you thirteen times in the last four songs that it is perfectly fine, okay? As long as you don't drop kick me, everything will be fine. I don't like these that much anyways," I reassured him while nodding down to my shoes. "I may not be smiling, but this is feeling like the best night of my life."
I took the opportunity to straighten the bow tie I had talked him into wearing. I had gotten him to have a shirt tailored from authentic Ankara, strictly for the occasion. I loved the pattern, and was immensely happy that I took him to get it made. He looked so nice in the black tuxedo with the light green fabric peeking through.
"What are you crying for? You're such a mom," I teased. I dragged him to the punch bowl. "I need a drink and a reliever from those two left feet of yours." He frowned as I took the opportunity to grab his cheeks in my hands. "Smile Okra, I was just kidding." He tickled my side, making me squirm and bump the table. A girl who was ladling out a drink spilled punch all over her dress. "That was your entire fault," I whispered to him.
Acting immediately, I stripped him of his jacket, and instructed him to offer it, so to cover the stain. He walked in her direction as she stared wide-eyed at the large red stain on her dress. "Hey, that was my fault, and I wanted to offer you my jacket to cover it up. My date thinks it would be for the best." I shook my head, this boy.
The stain was above the abdomen anyways so his jacket would cover that and then some. She smiled, waving him off, "I can just get my boyfriend's, but thank you so much for helping. Your date is a lucky girl," she complimented as she walked away. I recognized her as one of the school cheerleaders, but her boyfriend was an enigma to me.
I admired him from afar, as he walked back over, a smile beaming on his face. It was the small things. We didn't jump right back onto the dance floor because my date had no rhythm. We watched Merriam and Bryson dance from the wall as we talked about colleges sparsely. I had been refraining from it.
"I wrote to MIT and Stanford," he said. I was expecting for everything to stop moving, the music to stop playing, and for my eyes to fall out, but for some reason I wasn't able to express my excitement. This was Kwame's dream school, and he had a chance of getting in it.
I took a mental deep breath, moving past that. "That's great, I wrote to Harvard and Stanford, so I guess we have a common denominator."
He smiled, but it wasn't genuine. "Yeah, I guess we do." At that moment, Nate came into my line of vision, like directly in my line of vision.
