Season 4 vi: Now Who's Wearing the Mask?

Setting: Logan High, English Office

I have always wanted to attend a Masquerade Ball. I love to pretend at being outgoing, and ideally, a masquerade would act as the perfect playground for my faceless, nameless parade of confidence. I wasn’t going to chaperon this one. I like to keep my weekends teen free. 5 days a week generally provides me more than enough time with post pubescent youth. However, I was suckered in on this one. First by the unbridled excitement of Emily and Leslie, then by the bonus of Mr. Fourth Season. 

I felt like a giddy middle school girl all day. I was secretly excited at the prospect of putting on a cute dress and dancing (most) of the night away. I had picked out the outfit days in advance—and not just because I needed to match my dress to my mask. I had helped make the masks and had suckered Mr. IV into accepting a flashy purple version as his own. As the day wore on, I acted the fool in front of my kids, and by 8th hour I was chatty and viciously cunning with Mr. Fourth Season. He had kindly brought his copy of Dexter Season 4 for me to borrow, and had offered up some unwelcome information, so I didn’t feel completely bad about the repartee. I was also deluding myself into believing that I had no nerves about spending 5 hours with him that night.

Setting: Logan High Cafeteria 

Before I even fully comprehended it, I was flirting. I knew I probably shouldn’t because I get in my head and make it more than it could ever be, but I couldn’t help myself. He looked good. I felt good. It felt good. And so it began. We had to hang decorations together, so we teased each other about our skill…or lack there of (turns out hanging streamers off the roll really is a 2 person job, and no tugging is allowed). We set up the DJ booth and started selecting music—a process that required more than one person looking at a small screen. We were close, we were chatting, we were dancing. If there was nothing, my mind was playing tricks. 

As the night wore on, so did the music selection. By the 3rd hour, we had moved from iTunes to Youtube to keep the party bumpin’. That was around the time he was trying to find a version of Footloose. He stood just over my shoulder. And he didn’t move. He stood like that, leaned in toward the screen trying to figure out the title of the song. Eventually I gave in to my nervous instincts and shifted away, but I regretted it almost immediately. I liked having him so close. And that wasn’t the only time that night. With the loud music and the mandatory manning of the DJ booth, I found close contact nearly continuous. I felt like a middle school girl. Only this time, I actually knew how to flirt with the boy. And I didn’t stand against the wall and avoid eye contact (although I did avoid a couple requests to join in the dancing). No, I was snarky and playful and…yes, I touched his arm, and stole his mask out of his pocket, and stuck a sticker on his shirt. A bit middle school, but what can I say? I am a bit behind in my flirting education.  

After the dance, we all packed up, silly on sleep deprivation and each other’s company. With an executive decision, we followed the Dean of Students to celebrate a dance well planned over a drink or two (on him!). The conversation revolved around sports and school, but when the tab was settled and our kind host had vacated the premises, I unleashed my library phone number incident on the quickly fading group, getting a positive reaction from everyone but him. Emily was the first to leave, and her departure signaled Leslie that our time had come as well. We parted ways, each of us heading to our respective abodes. When I got home, I sent him a flirty text, regretful that I hadn’t been able to cash in on his suggestions of staying out later. While feedback was positive, I can’t help but wonder if he picked up the subtle hints of attraction buried under the playful jabs. I guess my literal mask wasn’t the only one to come off by the end of the night.