The Dance Read Free

had…
    But, no, she was not suicidal and never had been. She was in no hurry to leave this world. Yet she would have given a great deal to see Alice again, even for a few minutes. Two long months, and still her grief was an open wound.
    Before pulling away from the bank, Sara noticed the teller had forgotten to stamp the new balance in the ASB council’s checkbook. A dash back inside remedied the situation.
    On the way to Polly’s house, they talked about Polly’s guardian aunt. The poor old lady had had a mild heart attack immediately after hearing about Alice, and had only recently returned home. A nurse watched her during the day while Polly was in school, but Polly took care of her the rest of the time: cooking her food, rubbing her back, helping her to the bathroom. Sara admired Polly’s charity but didn’t understand—with the bucks Polly had—why she didn’t hire round-the-clock help. She’d get a lot more sleep that way.
    After Sara dropped Polly off, she stopped by the market. Only this market wasn’t just any market. It was six miles out of her way, below par in cleanliness, and had an employee named Russ Desmond. She had asked around campus—discreetly, of course—where he worked. This would be her fourth visit to the store. The previous three times he had either been off or working in the back.
    Naturally, she saw him practically every day at school, but being ASB president, she thought it beneath her dignity to go chasing after him there.
    Starting in produce, her bag in her hand, she went up and down every aisle until she came to the meat section. She didn’t see him. More disappointed than she cared to admit, she was heading for the exit when she spotted him wheeling a pallet into the frozen-food section. He had on a heavy purple sweater, orange gloves, and a green wool cap that was fighting a losing battle with his bushy brown hair.
    What a babe.
    She didn’t know why he looked so good to her. Most girls would have thought he had too many rough edges and was too sloppy to be handsome. Actually, she thought that herself; nevertheless, she always got a rush when she saw him. She liked the curve of his powerful shoulders, the insolence in his walk. Yet she didn’t for a moment believe she was infatuated with him. She was too cool to be suffering from something so common.
    She wanted him to notice her, to call her over. Acting like an ordinary, everyday shopper, she began to browse through the ice cream and Popsicles, drawing closer and closer to where he was working. She had approached within ten feet of him, and still he hadn’t seen her. Feeling mildly disgusted, she finally spoke up.
    “Hey, Russ, is that you?”
    He glanced up. “Sara? What are you doing here?”
    She shrugged. “Shopping. You work here?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I didn’t know that. I come in here all the time.”
    “Really? I’ve never seen you before.”
    “I usually don’t stay long. In and out—you know how it is.”
    “Huh.” He returned to unloading his pallet, bags of frozen carrots. “What are you looking for?”
    “What?”
    “What are you buying?”
    “Oh—Spam.”
    “Aisle thirteen, lower shelf on the right. You like Spam?”
    “It’s all right.”
    “I can’t stand it.”
    Neither could she. “I like the cans.” Brilliant. She cleared her throat. “So, what’s new?”
    “Nothing. What’s new with you?”
    “Oh, just putting the homecoming dance together. You know I’m ASB president?”
    “I remember you said that, yeah.”
    “It’s in a couple of weeks.” Hint, hint, hint . She didn’t exactly have a date yet. Actually, no guy had even spoken to her in the last month. For all he cared. He finished with his carrots and went on to broccoli. She added, “I’m going.”
    “Huh.”
    “Yeah, I have to. I open the envelope that announces the new queen.” She paused, swallowed. “Are you going?”
    “Nah. What for?”
    “To have fun. We’re going to have a neat band. They’re called