Chemically Platonic

Chemically Platonic (28) Dancing, Teasing and Inappropriate conduct

As expected Violet and I were the only ones willing to breech the premise of the dance floor. Tyler and Bailee stuck together as imagined and Winnie dragged Joel to speak to everyone imaginable. With her talkative personality, it wasn't a surprise but the way she spoke was more comparable to a campaign leader then a girlfriend. Her inner circle was filled with judgmental assholes and it felt like she had to bribe and sell them on Joel.

While we danced, I kept an eye on Sam who was slouched against a chair near the far corner. He switched from making small conversation with passersby's to looking at his wrist watch. With a tongue to his cheek, he patiently waited for us to call it quits. Sam obviously didn't want to put in any amount of effort that might put him outside his comfort zone.

"Sam," I called, cupping my hands around my mouth—"Come join us," I insisted losing my sense of rhythm in the process.

Shaking his head wildly, he stubbornly resisting the notion of joining me or having any fun tonight. There was a part of me that half hoped Sam would let loose a little and par take in some fun.

Dancing and enjoying myself with Violet was short lived. The longer I saw Sam with a depressed expression, the less appealing it became.

With a sigh, I muttered, "Fuck."

My body stood still amidst the ravers. Violet glanced at me with a perked eyebrow, questioning why our fun had suddenly stopped. Slowly her swaying slowed like a grandfather clock.

"I'm going to go entertain Sam," I groaned sounding unimpressed but I knew this wouldn't be any fun without Sam here.

Against Violet's persistence or pouting, I embarked through the sea of uncreatively dressed high schoolers thrashing to upbeat music. Using my elbows, I distanced myself from the sweaty individuals, breaking way and stepping off the designated dance floor.

Sam watched my approach with a smile across his face as he pulled together the parts of his vest, self-conscious about his bare chest. With a matching smile, I walked with a bounce heading towards him. As I met up at his table, Dawson stole my seat giving me a smirk.

"Rude," I hissed, deviating my route and leaning my back against Sam.

"Hi guys," Dawson greeted us, resting his elbows on the table and leaning in to hear us better.

Both of us gave a generic response.

Between the two of them they carried on a dull conversation for a while. Soon Sam got bored and his concentration started to drift, much like mine had.

This place had high ceilings, a dance floor, and a miniature bar that only served mock tails. Leave it to Amber to turn "Spring Halloween" into some grand party. I'd seen her several times walking around like the Queen of Turd Island, greeting all her quests as if it was an honor we could make it.

"Can we go yet?" Sam asked in a whisper, afraid of the response Dawson would give if he heard.

Contemplating, I hesitated in my response, "If you dance with me for one song, we can go as soon as it's done."

"No way." Sam's response was heard loud and clear.

"Oh come on man. She's your girl. You have to dance with her or someone else will," Dawson probed getting an illicit response.

"No way," Sam and I said in unison with sharp glares.

Dawson raised his hands in defense, "Jesus. No need to bite my head off. I'm just saying that when a girl dresses up like that and asks you to dance, you dance. Especially when she dressed up just for you." Dawson finished his sentence with a swig of his drink. By the goofy smile across his face, I assumed it had been spiked for a while.