By the end of prom, Georgia and I were actually having a great time. ShopParty Decor
We danced badly. Really badly. I’m not a dancer. Georgia isn’t either, it turns out, but at least she’s confident about it.
We ate too many cupcakes. The culinary club had made about four hundred of them, chocolate with silver sprinkles, and they were stacked on a tiered tray by the drink table. Georgia ate three. I ate four. Madison ate so many we stopped counting.
We watched Madison convince the DJ to play an old disco song. It took her twenty minutes and many pleading. When “September” finally came on, the whole gym groaned, and then everyone started dancing anyway.
Georgia taught me a dance move during that song.
“You put your arms like this,” she said, demonstrating. She bent her elbows and swung them back and forth in a chopping motion. “And then you kind of bounce. And then you spin.”
