June

People had always stared at me.

I didn't know when I first noticed it. It felt like it'd always been that way. Usually, I ignored them, just going on my way. I mean, it wasn't like I sometimes accidentally found my eyes scanning an unusual person — it happened, it was human nature. Assess situations. Survival skills.

It was the people that kept gaping at me even after I'd let them know I noticed who I detested. If I were in a good mood, I'd fake smile at them. If it were the sort of day on which it was like everyone was whispering about me, I'd glare. The first method was usually more successful.

Once, Valentina had called out a good-looking boy for watching me. "I was only checking her out, I think she's cute! I didn't even know she was disabled, sorry!" That moment had me wonder if I'd ever sent an angry look at someone who just thought I was pretty. How was I supposed to know the difference?

But I was starting to realize I should assume it was usually the less likable reason.

Special needs girl.

This was how people saw me. Someone to be pitied. Someone that wasn't normal enough to just be described as a girl. Someone who people only hung out with because she was a poor, unfortunate thing — not because they were her friends and liked her.

I used to ask myself what was going on in the minds of people who kept talking to me like I was a four-year-old, even after I explicitly told them I was quite capable and I wanted to be treated like they treated others. It was like a switch went on when they spotted someone different, and they couldn't turn it off.

What did Sam think of me? And Hayley?

And Nathan?

If they talked about me to someone else, did they mention my disability?

No, they wouldn't, not if it wasn't necessary.

Charlotte might. Pretty, rich, white girl. I had every right to tell her to fuck off. She'd send me a long apology message, though, so I also needed to forgive her. If I'd chuck everyone out of my life that had once offended me in some way, I would end up having almost nobody left. And Hayley was the living example of someone who'd learned and changed for the better.

Nathan had called various people from the school, and I immediately knew he did a better job than I could've ever done. Lawyer skills. Five hours later, the video was taken down. But the damage had already been done.

I avoided looking at myself in recordings — that wasn't the way I moved, surely, and that was certainly not my voice. That wasn't me. It hurt seeing it, because it was me, and it was how others saw me.

Awww, look how inspiring! Cute sophomores take this special needs girl to Valentine's Day Dance!! <3

The text was permanently pasted into my vision, as if I was wearing glasses that had the words inscribed in them. My stomach was constantly moving, up and down — I'd puked earlier today, making sure nobody would find out. I didn't want any more pity.

It was now one am, and I was sitting on the couch, alone in the dark, listening to this song Nathan had texted me earlier, on repeat. I was probably ruining my ears, my headphone volume was turned up way too high. I couldn't care less, at the moment. This was what I needed.

My phone vibrated. Dazedly, I checked it.

Nathan: Heads up. I'm coming into the room.

What? I looked up, seeing him stand in the doorway, phone in hand. I smiled, taking off my headphones. Immediately, the world came crashing down on me — even the soft buzzing in my ears couldn't block the terrifying idea that I existed and that that video did as well. "Thanks," I said, my voice hoarse.

He didn't say anything, came to sit beside me. He was already in sweatpants and a hoodie, I was still dressed in my jeans and crop top. This morning, after I'd seen the video, I had somehow thought making myself look extra pretty would make a difference. It hadn't. Or maybe it had. I didn't know. "I'm sorry," he suddenly said. "I shouldn't have made you go. You were right. High school is fucking pathetic." He rubbed his face, running his hands through his hair.

"Don't be sorry. I had a great time. Never doing it again, but I did have a great time."

He went very still, ocean eyes focused on me, then slightly shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that?"

My body tensed, and I had to look away, unable to handle the heaviness of his gaze. My stomach was fighting for my attention — I tried to ignore it, which seemed to be almost impossible. I smiled a little, daring to glance back up. "Yeah," I said. "I know."

He chuckled, and my heart drank in the sound, using it to warm up my whole body. "Good."

I pulled up my legs on the couch, shifting a little closer to him. How lucky I was, to have him as my friend, this guy who was always there for me and always said the right things and always took me seriously. "You're pretty amazing too," I said, immediately feeling my cheeks heat up. I clutched one of the pillows, hoping that the force would prevent the rest of me from making uncontrolled movements. "Although, after today, I'm glad you weren't there last night. It would've made everything ten times worse."

"Why?"

"Imagine what the caption would've been like then. Super-hot lawyer-to-be takes pity on his little brother's special needs classmate and dances with her." It was supposed to be funny, but my throat gave up halfway through, and I wondered how weird my voice sounded to him right now. Don't cry, June. Not again. "I know what the comment section would've been like. They'd all want to marry you." I grimaced, not succeeding to keep in my tears. Fuck. Stop that. I didn't want to be a leaking tap. It wasn't attractive at all. I bet Charlotte never cried. Not in front of him, anyway.

"Well, they'd be out of luck," he said. "I was gonna marry you, after all, remember?"

I laughed shortly. "I really think we should stop making that joke." It'd been wonderful when Charlotte hadn't been there yet; now, it only made me remember that it was something I would really want, while he wouldn't.

"It was a joke?" he said, attempting to fake indignation. He might've been a good lawyer, he wasn't a good actor. At all. "Damn. Who's going to cook for me then?"

I laughed, sincerely this time. "I think you can take care of yourself, Nathan. You made that great soup when I was ill a few weeks ago."

"Nope. I've only been in training with you for a year. Need at least two more before I'll be at an acceptable level."

He was adorable. His face, so earnest, eyes smiling at me... A laugh welled up inside me, and I let it out, releasing all of today's tension. He watched me, amused, and I didn't even care how he perceived me, only reveling in my body shaking, tears leaving my eyes, this time caused by joy instead of hurt.

Abruptly, he got up, walking towards the speakers. He took out his phone, back to me. What was he doing? I didn't have to ask; the next second, a song began to play — I didn't recognize it, but people were clapping, whistling and screaming, so it was probably a live version. Acoustic guitars, a man singing, the crowd echoing him. It was a lot more mellow than I was used to from him.

"What's this?"

Something tugged at the corner of his lips as he walked towards me, determined, and threw his phone on the couch like it was a mere toy. "Live," he said.

"Yeah, I got that. I mean, what's the band's name?"

"Live," he repeated. "It's the name." Oh. That was confusing. They must have chosen it before the Google era.

More confusing was that Nathan had now extended his hand to me like he was expecting me to take it. What the hell was he doing? I looked up to him questioningly.

His eyes were smiling, almost smugly. "One second."

"What?"

"Just listen to the song, June."

I shook my head, slightly, when the chorus kicked in:

I wanna dance with you

I see a world where people live and die with grace

The karmic ocean dried up and leave no trace

I wanna dance with you

I swallowed, my hands instantly sweaty. No, he couldn't possibly... could he?

But he said it out loud. He really did: "I want to dance with you."

A thousand thoughts were running through my head, all having some connections with my heart, that was beating way too fast to be healthy right now, and the only thing I could get out without fainting was: "Why?"

"Because I want to dance with you."

O my god, that smile. I couldn't. I couldn't possibly. My body didn't want to move, I was sure it wouldn't listen to me, and I'd embarrass myself. Images of the video flashed through my mind, my weird arm and leg movements — I wasn't going to dance. I couldn't dance. Certainly not with him. "No," I said, preparing myself for a disappointed look and me alone, crying in my bed and cursing myself for being such a coward.

"Yes," he said instead. "No one here but me, Junie. I'm gonna repeat the song until you give in."

My chest constricted and I couldn't breathe anymore — that video, and everyone had seen it, and I was such a fool for thinking it didn't matter, and I couldn't, I really couldn't, never ever again, I was such a fool for assuming people wouldn't care, for assuming I was a human being to them — I was frozen in place, fingers digging into the couch. "No. Don't, Nathan. Don't make me."

"You trust me?"

What an unnecessary question. There was no one in my life I trusted more than him — no one who knew more about me than him. "Of course. But that doesn't matter. Even if I wanted to, I just... can't."

"I don't believe you. Thought I just heard you say I was a super-hot lawyer-to-be. No one would pass up on that, right?"

I laughed, in a nervous, almost scared kind of way. Gazing up at him, I begged him to let it go. "You've got a big ego all of a sudden."

A grin, and my stomach reacted by turning upside down. "Have to try everything when convincing a pretty girl she should dance with you."

My breath hitched, fingers bending even further without me wanting to, and I had a hard time telling my face how I wanted it to look — I had to bite my lip to keep my mouth from straining. Fuck, June. This was like one of your fantasies. You'd hate yourself forever if you walked away from this — it didn't matter that his intentions were nothing near the romantic kind, he wanted to dance with you, to something that felt like a love song, and there was no one there to interrupt you if Sam wouldn't wake up.

I considered his outstretched hand. One motion, and my sweaty one could be in his. Just one simple motion. You can do it, June. You do it all the time. You can do it now as well. I swallowed. My mouth was dry, as if I'd eaten taco's prepared by Sam — he would always add too much hot sauce.

I could do this.

And I did. Although it was a twitchy move, I did it. My hand was in his. My arms had trouble keeping still, but he gripped my fingers tight, almost crushing them. Again, when had he found out that that helped me?

He was trying to contain a smile. A questioning look, and I nodded. Before I knew it, I was pulled up. At least, my legs weren't betraying me right now. It wouldn't have surprised me if they'd collapsed at once.

An unexpected hand on the small of my back — I jumped, almost slamming into him.

"Just me, June," he said softly. "It's okay. Just try to relax."

Another nervous laugh. "Easy for you to say. I rarely relax, let alone when I'm dancing with handsome guys."

"And you think I don't have the same problem when dancing with beautiful girls?"

I squeezed him, involuntarily, and I thought if he didn't know I was in love with him before this, he should certainly know now. I avoided his gaze as I put my other hand on his chest — it immediately curled into a fist.

He left my back for a second, taking my fist and forcing it to lie flat, only returning to the former position when he was sure my hand wasn't going to clench again.

I wasn't breathing, surely, and I wondered if this was what it had felt like to die. In that case, not too bad. I'd lost count of how many times the song had repeated, I could only concentrate on making my body do what it should do. If only he would've made me drink some wine first...

I looked up to find his face way too close to mine. I was going to pass out, there was no other possible outcome for this situation. His eyes were staring into mine, probably trying to soothe me, not knowing that that intense contact only made it worse. Somehow, I couldn't avert my gaze, like it was glued to his. I heard my own breathing, slow and heavy — could he hear it as well? I could ask, but I wasn't able to speak or form coherent sentences in my mind.

In that moment, I knew.

I wasn't just in love with him. I loved him.

This wasn't a tiny crush that was going to blow over the minute the next hot guy entered my life. This wasn't me drawing hearts in a notebook and dreaming about him as some mysterious prince looking for a bride. This was me knowing him, knowing about all of his imperfections and embracing all of them without a doubt. Who could be better than him? This, this was real.

For some illogical reason, the realization drained some of the stress, and my shoulders rested, causing him to smile slightly. He began to move to the music, and somehow, someway, my body did its thing and followed his lead.

No complicated choreography, just a little swinging from side to side. I couldn't understand what was happening. I blushed fiercely, lowering my head to rest it against his chest, finding solace in his steady heartbeat.

I shuddered as he bent towards me, lips so close to my ear that I could feel him breathing. "Hey, June," he said. "We're dancing."

I laughed and looked back up into that stunning shade of blue. "I know."

"I'm gonna twirl you."

"Okay." I laughed again as he spun me around, not very smoothly, but successful enough. I crashed into his chest, and he was grinning down at me, and oh, how close he was, and oh, how much I loved him...

"Did I change your mind about dancing, yet?"

I nodded because that was the only thing I could do. Until I realized I wanted to do this more, over and over and over. "We could even do it again," I blurted out. "Maybe on my birthday."

He chuckled. "Maybe."

"I love you." I didn't say it, of course, but the words were on the tip of my tongue, probably written in my eyes. "So, am I a better dancer than your grandma?"

"Absolutely."

I rested my head against his chest. "Wish I could've known her."

"Me too. Or not. I think you two would've been a frightening pair." His warmth and his heartbeat and the same song over and over were lulling me to a dazed state, and I wondered if you could fall asleep dancing. "She'd probably really appreciate you telling me to quit my bullshit."

"I did that?"

"Yeah... Multiple times. Don't you remember? I was kind of a fool before you came along."

"You've never been a fool. Except when you make your crappy ass jokes."

"My defense lawyer again." I imagined he was smiling.

"No," I said. "Right now, I'm just a pretty girl."