Paul's Story, Part 4


Gordon and Karen joined us on the floor, but they didn't last long. Like every other dance, they were playing the same songs, and neither of them liked it very much. Wendy kept trying to get Karen to dance, but Karen kept complaining about the quality of the tunes. Finally, after five minutes of useless lessons, she and Gordon headed over to check the DJ's record collection. I didn't mind; it's always a hell of a lot of fun to watch Karen thrash about on the dance floor. Once she was driving me home after classes and I got to watch her fling about in her car as she listened to one of her tapes. Just by shaking around in her seat with the safety belt on, she got the entire car to jump up off the ground. If the DJ played her kind of music, it would be quite a sight. Wendy was still looking at the corner table, though, at David and Tom and the others. She'd been fairly into the music, but now she was just standing there, faintly swaying back and forth, craning her head to look at the guys in corner. Well, who am I kidding? She was looking at David. I was about to say something, about to tell her that I would be incredibly disappointed if she went against her word and spent more time with David than with me, when she grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back to the table. I was not going to let Wendy mistreat me on our prom night. She swore that she and David were through, not that I really ever doubted she wouldn't spring back to him, but I expected her to at least respect me as her date for the prom. I was going to have a serious talk with her when we sat down, but Karen and Gordon arrived.
	by Brian Tivol

Gordon and Karen joined us on the floor, but they didn't last long. Like every other dance, they were playing the same songs, and neither of them liked it very much. Wendy kept trying to get Karen to dance, but Karen kept complaining about the quality of the tunes. Finally, after five minutes of useless lessons, she and Gordon headed over to check the DJ's record collection.

I didn't mind; it's always a hell of a lot of fun to watch Karen thrash about on the dance floor. Once she was driving me home after classes and I got to watch her fling about in her car as she listened to one of her tapes. Just by shaking around in her seat with the safety belt on, she got the entire car to jump up off the ground. If the DJ played her kind of music, it would be quite a sight.

Wendy was still looking at the corner table, though, at David and Tom and the others. She'd been fairly into the music, but now she was just standing there, faintly swaying back and forth, craning her head to look at the guys in corner.

Well, who am I kidding? She was looking at David. I was about to say something, about to tell her that I would be incredibly disappointed if she went against her word and spent more time with David than with me, when she grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back to the table.

I was not going to let Wendy mistreat me on our prom night. She swore that she and David were through, not that I really ever doubted she wouldn't spring back to him, but I expected her to at least respect me as her date for the prom. I was going to have a serious talk with her when we sat down, but Karen and Gordon arrived.

by Brian Tivol