Page 94 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

I smile. A real one. “I’m here and ready for fun.” I throw a fist in the air. “Woo-hoo!”

We’re about to go find a table when Louie emerges from the crowd. He spots Booker, wraps an arm around his shoulder, and lets out a cheer. “Yoooo... Booker! You’re here? You didn’t tell me you were going out tonight!”

“Uh, yeah, didn’t know myself,” Booker says.

Louie looks at me. “No way! You’re here too?” He drapes his other arm around my shoulders, and now we’re all three standing in an awkward line. Then, as if realizing something, Louie backs away. “Wait. Are you two here...?” His eyes go wide. He points at me, then at Booker, then at me again.

Booker’s shrug seems to challenge me to be the one to respond, which makes me curious what his answer would be.

“No,” I say. “I was totally abducted by his grandmother, and she’s not even here.”

“That Bertie,” Louie says knowingly. “She’s a schemer.”

The crowd erupts with a cheer and Louie joins in for a brief second, like he can’t help but be a part of the fun. Then, turning back to us, he says, “Bummer. You two would beawesometogether.” Then, without missing a beat, he goes up on his tiptoes and whistles. “Daisy! Daisy!” He waves his arms, then points at Booker and me. “Look! Look who’s here!”

Daisy is still making waves on the dance floor, but when she sees us, she shoots her arms in the air with a loud cheer, then leaves her spot in the line and rushes over—as much as she can through this crazy crowd of people.

She throws her sweaty arms around me, and I wonder if maybe my housemate is a little tipsy. “Rosie! You didn’t tell me you were coming out tonight.”

I start to respond, but she loops her arm through mine and pulls.

“Let’s dance!” she says a little louder than she needs to.

Booker reaches over and grabs my glass as Daisy tugs me back through the crowd and onto the dance floor. The song changes, and as the upbeat bass starts, the crowd whoops so loudly it actually startles me.

Daisy takes her spot right at the center of the group, which means I’m also at the center of the group—and I have no idea what this dance is.

I watch for a few seconds as the crowd begins to move, all in unison. Heat rushes to my cheeks, but then I start to get it, reminding myself I only have one goal tonight.

“Just have fun, Rosie,” I say under my breath.

I watch Daisy’s feet while she calls out the steps for me, and by the time the first verse ends, I’ve got it down.

I look over at Booker and Louie, leaning on the bar, watching. Louie, the kind of person you’d want cheering for you if you ever ran a marathon, is pointing and whistling loud enough to be heard over the music.

I want to let loose. I want to let go. I want to feel the freedom I felt before the world beat me down.

A country singer’s deep voice sings “Country Girl (Shake It for Me),” and I laugh at the absolute ridiculousness of that lyric, and somehow that laugh loosens something inside me. More laughing. More moving. More shaking.

And before long, it hits me. I feel... free.

Uninhibited. Like the version of myself that got lost along the way.

I dance with the crowd, who, I notice, gets more and more into the moves as the song goes on, giving me permission to do the same.

Daisy gives me an approving nod. “You’re so good at this!” She takes off her cowboy hat and sticks it on my head.

I press it down farther and tip up the brim. I give her a big wink, grab my belt loops like there’s a big ol’ buckle in ’em, and own it.

It’s just life!

The song continues, and as I make the turn toward the bar, my gaze catches Booker’s, who is sitting on a stool, listening to Louie prattle on, but watching me.

I tip my hat as if to say,“Look at me, having fun!”and he lifts his bottle as if to toast me, and I note that all reason and logic where he is concerned seem to have left my brain.

This is not a date,Rosie.

And I know this. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be.

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