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Authors: Matt Christopher
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a Condor boy — probably fifteen
years old. Man, thought Tim. The oldest kids get to choose any girl they want to dance with.
He would have loved to ask Stephanie to dance. But after last time, he’d decided once and for all — nomore asking girls to dance. If anyone wanted to dance with him, she could ask him. Maybe, maybe he’d say yes. But getting
rejected was for the birds, and he felt bad enough already.
“Well, get on up there and find her, yo,” Jody said, giving him an elbow.
“Sure, Jody,” he said, getting up. Anything to get away from you and your nagging.
He waltzed over to the food-and-drink table, poured himself some punch, bopping in time to the music, and then edged slowly
toward the side doors and through them, out onto the porch. Out here, there were a few couples whispering and kissing in the
darkness.
Tim found an empty bench and sat down on it to sip his punch and wait out the evening — or as much of it as he could before
anyone noticed he was missing.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out there — maybe five or ten minutes — when he looked up and saw a dark shadow looming
between him and the porch light. Even in the semidarkness, he could tell it was her — could tell by the shimmering of her
black hair and the way she tossed it to the side as she approached him. “Hi, Tim,” she said in that musical voice of hers.
“It’s me. Stephanie.”
“Oh, hi,” he said, his voice barely audible, so big was the lump in his throat. “What’s up?”
“I saw you come out here, and I kind of wanted to talk with you. Could I, um, sit down?”
“Sure,” Tim said, shoving over a little to make room for her on the small bench. Behind them, a big window would have given
a view of the gym and the dancers, except that a white sunshade had been pulled down from inside. They were private out here.
All the other couples were kissing. For goodness’ sake, what was Stephanie doing out here? What did she want from him?
“You’re not dancing tonight?” she asked softly.
“Um, nah, I land of didn’t feel like it.”
“Bad day yesterday, huh?”
“You heard?”
“Kinda. Hey, it’s okay, don’t feel bad. The girls lost, too. We got creamed.”
“You guys didn’t have a ten-year winning streak to protect,” Tim pointed out.
“Yeah, but so what?” Stephanie said. “Who cares about a dumb streak?”
She was being so nice! His head was spinning. What was going on here?
“I thought you were a good dancer,” she said. “Last time, I mean. It was fun.”
“Yeah?” He was finding it all hard to believe. Here she was, coming to him like an angel in his lowest moment, saying things
to him he wouldn’t have dared to dream of!
Still, the nagging doubts in his head wouldn’t let him give in to the dream. “You — you were laughing at me last time,” he
said. “I saw you with your girlfriends.”
“What? I was not!” she said, taken aback. “Why would I do that?”
He had no answer to that question. What was he going to say? Because I’m a loser?
“You were. You and Mike were whispering, and you were checking me out. I thought you — I thought he might have wanted you
to ask me to dance, you know, as a goof.”
“That is sick.” Stephanie recoiled. “You are so totally wrong.”
“Really?” She seemed so angry with him, and he didn’t want her to be angry with him. Besides, why would she be angry if she
was guilty?
“You want to know the truth? Mike’s jealous of you,” she whispered in his ear, giggling softly, making little hairs stand
up on the back of his neck.
“How … how come? He’s better than me at every sport there is.”
“He thinks I like you, because I told him I thought you were cute. And it really ticked him off that I asked you to dance.”
She grinned mischievously, and her eyes twinkled at him.
“Oh …”
“Tim … have you ever kissed a girl?”
His heart took a long pause before starting to
years old. Man, thought Tim. The oldest kids get to choose any girl they want to dance with.
He would have loved to ask Stephanie to dance. But after last time, he’d decided once and for all — nomore asking girls to dance. If anyone wanted to dance with him, she could ask him. Maybe, maybe he’d say yes. But getting
rejected was for the birds, and he felt bad enough already.
“Well, get on up there and find her, yo,” Jody said, giving him an elbow.
“Sure, Jody,” he said, getting up. Anything to get away from you and your nagging.
He waltzed over to the food-and-drink table, poured himself some punch, bopping in time to the music, and then edged slowly
toward the side doors and through them, out onto the porch. Out here, there were a few couples whispering and kissing in the
darkness.
Tim found an empty bench and sat down on it to sip his punch and wait out the evening — or as much of it as he could before
anyone noticed he was missing.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out there — maybe five or ten minutes — when he looked up and saw a dark shadow looming
between him and the porch light. Even in the semidarkness, he could tell it was her — could tell by the shimmering of her
black hair and the way she tossed it to the side as she approached him. “Hi, Tim,” she said in that musical voice of hers.
“It’s me. Stephanie.”
“Oh, hi,” he said, his voice barely audible, so big was the lump in his throat. “What’s up?”
“I saw you come out here, and I kind of wanted to talk with you. Could I, um, sit down?”
“Sure,” Tim said, shoving over a little to make room for her on the small bench. Behind them, a big window would have given
a view of the gym and the dancers, except that a white sunshade had been pulled down from inside. They were private out here.
All the other couples were kissing. For goodness’ sake, what was Stephanie doing out here? What did she want from him?
“You’re not dancing tonight?” she asked softly.
“Um, nah, I land of didn’t feel like it.”
“Bad day yesterday, huh?”
“You heard?”
“Kinda. Hey, it’s okay, don’t feel bad. The girls lost, too. We got creamed.”
“You guys didn’t have a ten-year winning streak to protect,” Tim pointed out.
“Yeah, but so what?” Stephanie said. “Who cares about a dumb streak?”
She was being so nice! His head was spinning. What was going on here?
“I thought you were a good dancer,” she said. “Last time, I mean. It was fun.”
“Yeah?” He was finding it all hard to believe. Here she was, coming to him like an angel in his lowest moment, saying things
to him he wouldn’t have dared to dream of!
Still, the nagging doubts in his head wouldn’t let him give in to the dream. “You — you were laughing at me last time,” he
said. “I saw you with your girlfriends.”
“What? I was not!” she said, taken aback. “Why would I do that?”
He had no answer to that question. What was he going to say? Because I’m a loser?
“You were. You and Mike were whispering, and you were checking me out. I thought you — I thought he might have wanted you
to ask me to dance, you know, as a goof.”
“That is sick.” Stephanie recoiled. “You are so totally wrong.”
“Really?” She seemed so angry with him, and he didn’t want her to be angry with him. Besides, why would she be angry if she
was guilty?
“You want to know the truth? Mike’s jealous of you,” she whispered in his ear, giggling softly, making little hairs stand
up on the back of his neck.
“How … how come? He’s better than me at every sport there is.”
“He thinks I like you, because I told him I thought you were cute. And it really ticked him off that I asked you to dance.”
She grinned mischievously, and her eyes twinkled at him.
“Oh …”
“Tim … have you ever kissed a girl?”
His heart took a long pause before starting to
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