Asha watches me watching Kristen before linking her arm through mine and tugging me down the hall. “Don’t pay her attention,” she says. “She isn’t worth it.”
I know Asha’s right, logically. Now if only I could make my heart believe it.
* * *
Lou is currently obsessed with the soundtrack to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’ve never seen the movie, and when Sam rattles off the cast list like he’s the living embodiment of IMDB.com, the only name I recognize is Susan Sarandon. Still, I somehow know most of the lyrics to every song because Lou insists on playing it on repeat in the kitchen.
My favorite is “The Time Warp,” because every single time it comes on, everyone momentarily pauses in whatever they’re doing to sing along and do this orchestrated dance I assume must be from the movie. As an outsider, I am highly entertained.
Tonight the song cues up while I’m in the middle of sweeping the kitchen. Andy sings the loudest while he flips hamburger patties, and Sam mouths the lyrics into his spatula, and Lou and Asha stop busing tables long enough to participate.
As it jumps into the chorus, everyone does the dance—hands on the hips, knees in tight, pelvic thrusts. I lean on the broom handle and giggle at their antics, and Sam laughs back at me, swoops over and grabs me by the hand.
“Come on,” he says over the music, “don’t just stand there!”
I hesitate, but then he bumps his hip into mine, and I prop the broom against the wall and join in on the dance, awkwardly at first and then looser and looser. I know I must look like an idiot doing this stupid dance with an apron on and sans any makeup and my hair yanked back in a ponytail, but I suppose there’s little point in pretending I have any shame after half the school has seen a picture of me practically passed out on the bathroom floor. Sam must’ve seen the picture, too, I’m sure, but he hasn’t mentioned it and he isn’t looking at me any differently. So I guess it’s not the end of the world.