so, i've got this drink, and i'm thinking, can you really call it a mixed drink, if it's a splash of juice and mostly burning? it takes a lot of courage to dance, and the only kind i got is liquid. i mean, i've been looking at willow all night and lemme tell you— willow is all kinds of perfect-gorgeous. she's got skin the color of perfectly baked chocolate chip cookies, and i think, i'd like to take a bite out of that. the way she falls into soft curves is driving me mad, the way she keeps looking back at me with those stunning blue eyes. she's stunning, mixed beauty, got all the things i look for and more because she isn't just a pretty face—

she's got this head on her shoulders that knows stuff i couldn't even begin to comprehend. like, we're sitting once— me, her, logan. logan's our mutual friend, and he's the one that introduced me, and gotta say i owe him— anyway, we're sitting once, and she says out of nowhere, "y'know what i love? i love when people get honest. that real honest, where they say stupid shit that just comes to mind."

don't think i've ever heard anything more poignant, haven't seen anything more fantastic than the sway of her hips and the way her hair —so blonde and curly and perfect and pale— clings to her round face. she's got a unique kinda wonderful, like she's something that doesn't come off the mill every day, and i think i'm falling in love with her.

she told me once, when we had our first alone conversation, that she'd never date a guy that didn't support gay marriage. and i thought that was really cute, how she got so indignant and fierce and expected me to protest. i told her my brother doesn't like women, and she melted all over me, she said i was enlightened or something, but she didn't say it too desperately or wanton.

i met her dads. i like them a lot, and i like her. i like her so much. i love her almost, and she's got me and my no-rhythm self standing and looking like a moron. i walk up to her and touch her waist and she says, "brian."

i say, "willow," and we sway to some dumb song. something she whispers she hates, and she hates more than she loves, and i really think i like her more than friendship and more than fucking and more than a lot of stuff.

logan looks at us and says we'd make a cute couple; logan's my favorite person in the room besides a certain dancing someone.