A Dance of Star[e]s
As the saying goes, “When you can’t have something, just stare at it.” Kinda like a complicated Math problem waiting to be solved by a certified Math hater. Waiting for the gods of Mathematical Formulas to shower their grace on them. But sadly, that didn’t happen.
He was as complicated as a Math problem.
So, I can only stare at him.
Hi. My name is Samantha. You can call me Sam. I am the kind of girl that doesn’t really act like one. Well, how are you supposed to act, anyway? I don’t go to dates—because no one really asks me out. I don’t fix my hair—it is a hopeless case anyway. I don’t put on makeup—it makes me look like a clown.
I don’t have a crush—what is the sense of that?
But… this guy. His name is… Mark. Like how he left a mark on my heart the first time I saw him. That sounds so cheesy. I am not the cheesy kind of girl! What is happening?
Anyway, I found myself looking at the hallways, stealing glances from him. He is not even that cute. I mean, his nose is too big for his face. His hair too messy like he just got out of bed. And his eyes always looking at the ground.
But—he is tall. Even taller than me and I am considerably tall myself. His skin—the golden glow of his skin. His smile… damn, don’t get me started with his smile.
Prom is coming. All my friends are asking me who I should go with. I said I won’t because I never really like dances. So many formalities.
But they said he will be there!
Before I knew it, I was wearing a dress—damn tight. I was hearing heels—a killing machine. I had my hair in curls—how my friends manage to do that to my frizzy hair will always be a mystery to me. I was wearing make-up—but it didn’t make me up, you get what I am saying?
The first song echoed across the dance floor. My friends were all pushing me towards him—he was standing by the bleachers all by himself.
He looked so… dashing. The way he wears that tux. The way he stands on his feet.
Is this even legal? A girl asking a guy to dance? This is considered unorthodox by the society. I shouldn’t make the first move-
But I was already facing him. His eyes met mine and his eyebrows rose.
But a girl had already grabbed his hand, taking him to the dance floor.
Have you… ever felt this way? Your chest feeling like a brick? Feeling like you wanted to crawl inside a hole and die? Feeling like the earth will open up and swallow you?
I went back to my table, crossed my arms. Feeling the tears welling up.
I stared at them.
I stared at him.
But he never stared back.
Hi. My name is Samuel. You can call me Sam. Any other details of me aren’t important but one: I am looking at her.
She looks so… dashing. The way she wears that dress. The way her body curves as she sits there.
We have the same name. Do you not see how perfect we are for each other?
I was waiting for this chance. This prom. I wanted to get to know her; even just for the last time. We will be going our separate ways after this. I might not get to see her again.
Building up some courage, I went up to her. Cleared my throat.
She looked up but her eyes were red and hazy. Her expression blank.
“Can I have this dance?” My voice was an octave higher than usual. Damn it.
She nodded her head but her eyes still didn’t falter. She still looked like she was in a trance.
I took her hands—how many times have I fantasized holding them… But they were not at all the ones I imagined. They were cold with no trace of warmth. She looked cold herself.
I was staring at her.
She was staring at some other guy.
He was staring at the girl he was dancing with.
The dance of stares.
The song ended; our dance ended.
So did my world.