Page 36 of Attractive Forces

“Logan, great game yesterday,” Brewer’s dad says before I can sidle off to join my friends.

Dad’s chest puffs out. This is where he can join in the conversation. Talking about rugby. Namely, talking about me playing rugby. “He’s still got to work on his tackling.”

“Oh, you’re being too harsh. He’s got time to develop that aspect of his game. He’ll bulk up more in university,” Brewer’s dad says.

“He’ll need to watch his diet if he wants to get serious about bulking up healthily,” Dad says just as I grab a handful of potato chips.

Luckily, the girls choose that moment to come down the stairs, and everyone exclaims over their dresses.

Jennifer’s dress is light pink. Her blue eyes look even bigger than usual, her lips glistening with some kind of gloss. Somehow, seeing the effort she’s made to look nice makes me feel even shittier.

I present her with the wrist corsage my mum helped me pick out.

“It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much,” she gushes.

“You’re welcome.”

She gives me a corsage for my suit, and I make two attempts to pin it on before my mother comes to my rescue. The parents snap some pictures of all of us together, then in our ball date pairs.

After the photos, all of us guys stand around with our hands in our pockets while the girls giggle with each other.

I feel like an empty vessel, a generic jock puppet. A ventriloquist could pick me up and provide the stereotypical words coming out of my mouth as we talk about the game yesterday.

I scuff my shiny dress shoes on the Hayward’s rug, and I can’t help wondering what Jake is doing right now. He’s probably at one of his friend’s houses, going through a similar ritual to this. The conversation will be different though. Less rugby, more grades and stuff, I guess.

If a genie appeared to me now and asked me if I could spend tonight exactly how I wanted, what would I say?

I’d want to spend it with Jake. Maybe on a couch watching a movie, him next to me. He doesn’t even have to touch me or anything, just being with Jake, seeing his lopsided grin, talking about the random shit we normally talk about that should mean nothing but somehow means everything.

The vision is so strong I have to blink a few times to return to my current reality.

Because no genie or fairy godmother is about to turn up and grant me my wish.

The empty feelingstays with me when I arrive at the ball, like it’s a giant stage and we’re all actors. I’m the guy trying to remember my lines. And while I might be able to summon the correct words, somehow, my delivery feels off.

“Hey, man, looking good.” It’s Devlin. I can barely summon a smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice, clapping me on the back before he saunters away, a pretty Year 12 girl on his arm.

The gym has been transformed by the ball committee into a giant night sky with stars projected on the ceiling.

But it’s not the decorations I’m checking out as I scan the room.

There he is.

My mouth goes dry.

Jake’s dressed entirely in a black suit that hugs his lean body. He’s tried to tame his hair with product, but it’s a battle he’s always destined to lose.

He’s poking around the refreshment table, which has a sad collection of mini-pizzas and sandwiches.

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” I tell Jennifer as I detach myself from her and walk over to him. My heart beats louder than the music as I approach.

“Hey,” I say.

He turns to look at me, his face splitting into a grin. I focus on where his right lip quirks up slightly more than his left, my heart skittering.

“Hey.”

I nod at his suit. “I see you’re in a dark mood tonight.”