Chapter 78: One Last Dance

Eventually, the lights dimmed, and they cleared away the chairs and newspapers used for the games.

The dancing became considerably less ridiculous after that.

Someone switched the playlist to songs from the seventies, eighties, and nineties, and the mood softened almost immediately.

People paired off casually, though not necessarily as couples. Friends danced with friends. Old classmates pulled one another onto the floor, and several of their former teachers were invited for careful, gentle turns beneath the lights.

Alexander danced briefly with Elena, who informed him within the first minute that his technique had improved considerably since prom.

"I didn’t dance with you at prom."

"You stepped on my shoe."

"That was Giovanni."

Across the room, Giovanni turned his head.

"I heard that."

Alexander looked over Elena’s shoulder.

"You were nowhere near us."

"I still heard it."

Elena laughed.

"Some things really don’t change."

Giovanni eventually danced with Claire, while Dominic shared one song with Mara and another with one of their former classmates who’d apparently decided nobody should spend the entire evening standing beside the tables.

For the most part, everyone seemed content to enjoy the music without attaching too much meaning to it.

Then Dominic approached Alexander.

The song had just changed.

Alex saw him coming and, for one brief moment, knew exactly what Dominic intended to ask.

Dominic stopped in front of him.

His mouth opened.

Then closed again.

Whatever question had been there disappeared before it could be spoken.

It was such a small decision that nobody else would’ve understood why Alexander noticed.

Dominic had chosen not to ask.

For once, he’d recognized a boundary before Alexander had to draw it for him.

Instead, he glanced toward the refreshments table.

"Coffee?"

Alexander raised a brow.

"Sure."

Dominic returned with two cups.

He’d added a liberal amount of milk and sugar to both.

Alexander accepted his and looked down at it.

For a moment, he simply turned the cup between his hands.

Dominic noticed.

Then his gaze shifted toward the untouched surface.

Something in his expression changed.

"You take it black now."

Alexander looked up.

"Have for years."

"Right."

Too late.

A tiny thing.

Almost embarrassingly tiny.

Yet Alexander couldn’t help noticing what it represented.

There had once been a time when Dominic knew exactly how he took his coffee.

Apparently, enough years had passed between then and now for Dominic to stop knowing.

Neither man commented further.

Dominic drank his own coffee standing several feet away.

Alexander barely touched his.

Then the final song began.

Beatrice stepped toward the microphone.

"All right. Last dance."

Several people groaned dramatically.

She ignored them.

"And since this is a reunion, find somebody you never properly got to say goodbye to."

The wording caught Giovanni’s attention immediately.

Alexander turned and placed his untouched coffee on the nearest table.

Across the room, their eyes met.

For a moment, neither moved.

Then Giovanni understood.

Years ago, they’d never had a proper goodbye.

No graduation party.

No long final summer spent arguing over horses, homework, bad movies, or whatever else they would’ve convinced themselves mattered at eighteen.

There had only been moving trucks.

Boxes.

Hurried congratulations.

A bicycle loaded away.

Promises to visit.

And a truck eventually disappearing down the road before any of them really understood what leaving meant.

Alexander crossed the floor toward him.

"Well?"

Giovanni looked at him.

"You asking?"

"It’s the last dance."

"That’s not an answer."

Alex held out his hand.

"Do you want to dance or argue?"

Giovanni took it.

"Both."

"Naturally."

They moved onto the floor.

Giovanni guided them toward a slightly quieter spot beneath the slowly revolving mirrored ball, where shifting fragments of light wandered lazily over the walls and floor.

Alexander slipped his arms around Giovanni’s neck.

Giovanni’s hands settled around his waist.

The position should’ve felt awkward after so many years.

It didn’t.

There was no dramatic pause.

No sudden confession.

No impossible realization arriving conveniently beneath dim lights and an old love song.

They simply danced.

Two old friends who’d once believed there would always be another summer.

Another weekend.

Another chance to say whatever could wait.

The years had proved otherwise.

Perhaps that was why neither of them felt the need to fill the silence now.

Around them, classmates laughed softly and moved with varying degrees of grace. Someone near the stage was already taking photographs. Mrs. Ramos sat at a nearby table watching her former students with a smile she probably would’ve denied if anyone pointed it out.

Dominic stood farther away.

Alexander didn’t look toward him again.

For once, the past could remain exactly where it belonged.

The song eventually ended.

Giovanni’s hands loosened.

Alexander stepped back.

Neither rushed away.

That alone made the ending different from the one they’d had years ago.

This time, there would be a tomorrow.

The drive back was quiet at first.

Not uncomfortable quiet.

Good quiet.

The kind that settled after too much laughter, too many conversations, and an evening full of memories nobody had realized they still carried.

Giovanni drove.

Alexander leaned back in the passenger seat and watched the lights slide past the window.

"You happy you came?"

Giovanni smiled.

"Yes."

"Even after the paper dance?"

"Especially after the paper dance."

"You cheated."

"We won."

"You carried me."

"Still counts."

Alexander turned slightly.

"That’s not how games work."

"It’s exactly how that game worked."

"You looked far too pleased with yourself."

"I was pleased."

"Clearly."

A faint smile stayed on Alexander’s face as he looked back toward the window.

Then, after another stretch of road, he spoke more quietly.

"You got your goodbye."

Giovanni’s smile faded.

For a moment, only the low hum of the engine and the occasional wash of headlights passing in the opposite direction remained.

"Yeah."

"How does it feel?"

"Strange."

"Bad?"

"No."

Giovanni thought about it.

"More like finishing something I didn’t know I’d left unfinished."

Alexander understood that better than he expected.

They stopped at a red light.

Giovanni glanced toward him.

"And you?"

"What?"

"Happy you came?"

Alexander thought about the question.

Dominic had been there.

So had the old teachers.

Mr. Arturo.

Patrick with his apparently eternal supply of food.

Elena and the umbrella she still refuses to return.

Samuel insisting academic parasitism had actually been collaboration.

The old photographs.

The time capsule.

The ridiculous wooden carving.

Giovanni lifting him off the floor while half their class accused them of cheating.

"Yes."

Giovanni looked toward him.

"Even though Dominic came?"

Alexander faced forward again.

"Dominic was part of high school."

"And?"

"He doesn’t get to own the rest of it."

Giovanni nodded slowly.

That sounded exactly like Alexander.

The light changed.

They drove on.

After several minutes, Alexander said, "You really didn’t tell me what you put in the time capsule."

"You saw it."

"Make something worth coming back to."

"Yes."

"Did you mean it?"

Giovanni’s hands remained steady on the wheel.

"I was seventeen."

"That’s not an answer."

"No?"

"No."

Giovanni smiled faintly.

"Then yes."

Alexander looked at him.

"And did you?"

The smile disappeared into something quieter.

Giovanni kept his attention on the road.

"Still working on it."

"You’ve had enough time."

"Some things take longer."

"Excuses."

"Patience."

Alexander turned toward the window before Giovanni could see the smile that followed.

Neither of them knew exactly what they were building yet.

Perhaps that was fine.

For once, there was no deadline.

No bridge waiting to reopen.

No grandfather’s will dictating what the future should look like.

No family deciding whom either of them ought to choose.

No promises they had to make simply because someone expected them.

Only an old friendship had survived distance, terrible timing, other relationships, and years neither of them could ever get back.

Tonight, that felt like enough.

And unlike the day Giovanni had left after graduation, neither of them had to wonder whether this would be the last time they saw each other.

Another day would come after this one.

This time, they both knew it.