I flinch as the song begins. It is the last song of the dance. I know this without the DJ announcing it because I have the sudden urge to cry. The end of a dance comes as tears follow a bad day – not asked for but necessary, unwanted but relieving. I want him beside me. I look to the food for comfort, assuming that it will be a vacant place to stand, but it is covered with people wanting dates. The disco lights flash a halo over his head. He stands with my best friend. The only boy I want stands with the only girl I need right now. One of them needs to find me. Couples shuffle in front of me on the dance floor blocking my view of the two friends. I want to dance. I did not miss one all night, and have no intention of missing the last one simply because he will not ask me. The song only stared a moment ago. I still have time to get to him. I begin to move around the dance floor when I realize that there is no point.

If he wants he, he will ask. I have no reason to ask. I could follow him like a puppy, but there is no point. After enough time, the puppy is no longer cute – or even a puppy, but becomes a large annoying dog who is only responsibilities. He probably thinks of me as more of a stray mutt that has moved into him porch than that adorable doggy in the window of the pet shop that he goes to look at every day waiting to have the money to buy. It could be even worse. I could be the puppy that he wanted, but then brought home and got to know, and then really did not want. Dogs are so needy, anyway. I mean, you have to feed them, and take them out even when it rains, and play with them, and run around the house making sure that they are not in your parents room when they aren’t supposed to be there, and oh I don’t even know what else. They don’t really have the greatest personalities either. They whine and cry and mope, or they run around all the time looking for attention. I’m the moping type, I realize as tears fill my eyes. What is wrong with this, why can’t I just be like a real person instead of a dog?

He’s smiling. He’s smiling at her. She’s laughing. She’s more like a cat than a dog. Independent, smart, agile. She wants nothing from anybody. She does not need him. Or me. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she leaps two feet in the air. He must have said something silly. She rarely leaps. Her leap is graceful, like a cat that knows her surroundings leaping onto a bed to make her owners, who she considers her friends, notice her. She does not need him to see her, but she likes that she can make him notice how nice she looks. He compliments her. I can tell because she blushes coyly. She has a boyfriend. I know him, but nobody else does. She flips her hair around, notices me, and smiles. She is a good person, but she does not understand right now. She walks towards me. He does not follow. He does not need her. She does not need him. He walks towards another girl and asks her to dance. The song is not yet half over. They dance. The girl he chose does not smile or talk.

He talks a lot. She does not make any movements. I know who she is, but have never heard her speak. My best friend stands next to me. “He didn’t want to talk to me.” So he’s not a cat person. He wouldn’t want to talk to me either. I know he’s not a dog person. I look at him dancing with the silent girl. He actually looks very happy talking with no response. I think I’ll buy him a turtle for his birthday.

back to the highway that never ends