“
John is standing at the other end of the table, drinking Coke and nodding his head to the beat. I’ve been so busy running around, we’ve hardly had a chance to talk. I lean over the table and call out, “Having fun?”
He nods. Then, quite suddenly, he bangs his glass down on the table, so hard the table shakes and I jump. “All right,” he says. “It’s do or die. D-day.”
“What?”
“Let’s dance,” John says.
Shyly I say, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, John.”
“No, I want to. I didn’t take swing-dancing lessons from Stormy for nothing.”
I widen my eyes. “When did you take swing dance lessons from Stormy?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Just dance with me.”
“Well…do you have any war bonds left?” I joke.
John fishes one out of his pants pocket and slaps it on the refreshments table. Then he grabs my hand and marches me to the center of the dance floor, like a soldier heading off to the battlefield. He’s all grim concentration. He signals to Mr. Morales, who is manning the music because he’s the only one who can figure out my phone. Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” comes blaring out of the speakers.
John gives me a determined nod. “Let’s do this.”
And then we’re dancing. Rock-step, side, together, side, repeat. Rock-step, one-two-three, one-two-three. We step on each other’s feet about a million times, but he’s swinging me around--twirl, twirl--and our faces are flushed and we’re both laughing. When the song is over, he pulls me in and then throws me back out one last time. Everyone is clapping. Mr. Morales screams, “To the young ones!”
John picks me up and lifts me into the air like we’re ice dancers, and the crowd erupts. I’m smiling so hard my face feels like it could break.
”
”
Jenny Han (P.S. I Still Love You (To All the Boys I've Loved Before, #2))