Arthur walked into his room and slammed the door shut. It was a typical college dorm room, he thought—pretty messy, with a bed on either side, computers on desks next to both of them, and a TV on the dresser at the other side of the room. The floor was almost covered with papers and other assorted junk. One side of the room—not his—was plastered with sports posters. His side looked bare by comparison.
He fell down on his bed. Though he wouldn't let anyone see it, he was crying silently. This whole week had been rough for him—not for any reason he thought he should consider important, but because of something he kept trying to tell himself could wait and wasn't essential anyway.
Arthur had a crush on a girl in his math class. It had taken him a long time to admit this, and even now he had a hard time accepting it. He didn't even know her name. A couple of times, he had been in group conversations when she was also there, but he had never spoken to her directly.
But he couldn't help his feelings. He went to sleep thinking about her and woke up thinking about her. During math, he stared at her constantly and payed no attention to the teacher—not that he needed to in order to get a good grade. She was medium height and just the right weight, with big blue eyes and brown hair which fell slightly past her shoulders. The way she carried herself was different from anyone else Arthur had ever met, with far more dignity. He desperately wanted to get to know her.
And on Friday—today—was the dance. Arthur had never been to a dance except for a couple at summer camp, where all he did was sulk, look depressed in the corner—which, he realized, didn't improve his chances of having a good time, but he couldn't help it—and then cry himself to sleep afterwards. But he had really wanted to go to this one—or at least, so he had thought. “It's college now, you've got to grow up sometime and overcome your shyness,” he had thought.
This had sounded like a great plan, and he had thought out the conversation when he would ask her to be his date each morning. But every time he was about to actually do it, he would get nervous and start to think things like “What if she has a boyfriend?” and “Or even worse, what if she doesn't but just says ‘no' anyway?” So he would put it off and resign himself to doing it the next day—until today, when even that mental escape was denied to him, for there would be no next day.
As these thoughts crossed Arthur's mind, his roommate Dan walked into the room. Dan was a nice enough guy, but it was hard for him to empathize with Arthur because Dan was a much more visceral, athletic type of person—totally different from Arthur, something of an ivory-tower intellectual. He said “Hey Arthur, aren't you going to the dance?”
“I didn't intend to, since I don't have a date.”
“Oh, c'mon. That's no problem, there will be plenty of girls there without dates too.”
Arthur considered it. The dance was free, and he had no other plans for the night. When he realized that she might be there, he knew he would force himself to go. It would be pure torture—punishment for his not having the guts to ask her out, maybe helping him learn to be less shy through trial by fire.
The dance was casual, and Arthur was not too optimistic about his chances of actually doing anything there, so he did not bother to change out of his khakis and sweatshirt emblazoned with the university's name. He pulled himself up with some effort and followed Dan.
Dan met his date on the quad. It was only a few hundred feet from the building where the dance would be held, and the glaring lights blotted out any chance of stargazing. Arthur kept his distance so as not to be annoying. He looked at Dan's date with relief. For some reason, he had thought that she might be the girl in whom he was interested, which would have just been creepy.
They proceeded to the ballroom where the dance was being held. The organizers had obviously put a lot of effort into it. There were hundreds of balloons, streamers, banners reading “Spring Dance,” and even a disco ball. The stereo setup was enormous and obviously rented, as was the DJ. As Arthur walked in, one of the people running the dance gave him a broad smile that seemed genuine. Arthur was only able to flash a weak grin in return.
Arthur got a glass of punch, then went over to a chair. The music was a real mixed bag—modern rock intermingled with dance songs, and even a few slow songs. Every once in a while, Arthur looked up and saw that Dan and his date were dancing almost every song.
There were several hundred people there, and Arthur probably could have found a girl to dance with if he'd had the nerve and wanted to. Several were looking for dance partners, but they passed over Arthur when they saw his expression. To him, this was merely further evidence of what he already believed—that he was undesirable.
After about half an hour, Arthur actually started crying. Dan noticed and walked over to him. He asked Arthur what was wrong. Arthur could see that Dan was ready to abandon his date and try to help Arthur work out his emotional problems. But Arthur couldn't bear to be the cause of all that pain for someone else as well as himself, so he forced himself to stop crying, though the feelings remained, and told Dan to go have a good time.
Arthur looked around the room. He didn't see who he was really looking for, but he did see his friend Anne. She was overweight but looked pretty good—she had obviously spent the whole afternoon getting ready. However, she had no date either, but was making sure the dance ran smoothly—greeting new arrivals, refilling the punch bowl and so on. He couldn't understand how she could tolerate being around so many happy couples, and even less why she would volunteer to do so.
Arthur went back to slowly sipping his punch and staring at his feet. Every once in a while, he would look up at the dancers, and each time, he would make a mental note not to look up again because of the pain it inspired. He always forgot, his eyes drawn back to the spectacle of people enjoying themselves.
Eventually, Arthur sank deeper into his gloomy mood and almost lost track of the events around him. He barely noticed when the music stopped and the lights were brightened, nor when the dance floor was cleared and those who had been dancing formed two lines stretching most of the way from the door to where he was sitting.
A voice Arthur had never heard before whispered in his ear “Her name is Laura.” He looked up, startled, and there she was at the other end of the corridor, wearing a blue dress far more elegant and formal than the attire of the other attendees. A flood of emotions passed through Arthur's mind as his eyes darted to Anne, who had broken down and was giggling uncontrollably. Laura walked regally down the aisle of human beings. When she reached the end, she asked Arthur “May I have this dance?”, and when he stood and extended his hand, the tears that came to his eyes were not those of sorrow.
Arthur's favorite song began to play, and the couples once again paired up and began dancing, Arthur and Laura now among them. Like a broken record, the words “I can't believe this” kept running through Arthur's mind. His lack of skill in dancing was painfully evident to him, but Laura didn't seem to care. They danced until after one o'clock. Several times they stared into each other's eyes and almost forgot their surroundings.
When they finally decided to leave, Anne and Dan joined them, Dan's date having decided to turn in some hours ago. After everyone had cracked a few jokes, Laura said “Don't worry, Arthur, I didn't do it just because she asked me too. I really like you. Why didn't someone tell me sooner?”
Arthur started to turn red. Laura said “You don't have to tell me.” There was a pause in the conversation, and then Laura asked “Would you like to do something Monday night?”
A shiver ran over Arthur's entire body as he answered “Yes, that would be nice.”
Kenn Hamm
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Last modified: Spring 1999