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Susie Mack wasn’t talking to him. Granted, that happened rather often, but tonight was different. Tonight was important. Tonight was prom.
The sleeves on Butch’s suit were too long, so he had to roll them up; Wally had taken the last one in his size. Wally Mack, who was currently dancing with his bitch of a sister to keep both of them from looking pathetic. Everyone else had a date (or at least tolerable company). Paul and Christine, Wally and his sister, Freddie and Amata... Which left the Butch-man. Well, him and the doctor’s daughter, but as if he would even consider dancing with her.
Erin Holt was chewing ice cubes, and it almost surprised Butch to see her in a dress- especially since it didn’t look completely awful. Dressed in low-cut, glittery blue, he could see the same colour in her eyes from here. He brown hair was down for once, and feathered past her shoul- Dammit she caught him looking. He quickly directed his attention somewhere- anywhere.
Heels clicked towards him, and he wouldn’t look, wouldn’t say she looked good, wouldn’t acknowledge her-
“We’re both pathetic, and you know it, so are you going to dance with me, or what?”
“No way, Nosebleed-” he began, and in turning to her, he found his seat about eye-level with an admittedly impressive rack. When the hell did that happen?
“I hit puberty, dumbass. You’ve just been too busy aiming for the face to notice. Are we gonna dance? I don’t have all night.”
Shit, did I say that out loud?
Butch could not dance. He was uncoordinated and clumsy unless he was pissed, and he ditched every swing lesson. However, this was a slow song, so all he really had to do was shuffle in place, and the idea of those pressed up against him wasn’t terrible, either...
Trying to look as exasperated as he could, Butch took his feet from off the table and stood. “I still hate you. This doesn’t change nothin’.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. So long as you get me punch, and don’t punch me, it’s a success.”