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In your dreams you’re dancing with him again. And it’s nice because he’s polite and leads well and doesn’t step on your feet. He compliments your hair and smiles with bright white teeth and you think it’s nice because everyone’s told you it’s nice.
And all the while you try so hard to remember his name, but it escapes you because somewhere in the back of your mind you just don’t care. It isn’t that he’s unpleasant or anything, but you just can’t bring yourself to smile quite as wide, or laugh quite as heartily as everyone else.
When the dance is over and he tries to kiss your hand, you pretend you aren’t feeling well and rush back to your space at the wall. You know he won’t mind, because you are supposed to be shy and delicate like that. You know you won’t get in trouble either, because your stepmother didn’t want to bring you here anyway.
So when the doors open and the music stops, you don’t realize it at first because you are building castles in your head and pretending you are someone happy for a change. But when the spotlight hits her dress you forget all about that. All about your stepmother and how she throws out your clothes and hurts you sometimes but threatens you more. All about the boy whose name you never remembered and all the people telling you that he’s wonderful and charming and aren’t you lucky.
Because when she walks in the door the lights sparkle off her dress like she was born out of the heart of a star. And her eyes are the most perfect blue and her smile is shy but sure and you want her. You never knew until this moment but you’ve wanted her your whole life. Perhaps you’re being too emotional, your stepmother always said you were too emotional, but you don’t care about her anymore. All you care about is this girl who’s just walked into your life and if she doesn’t stay you’re quite certain you’ll choke on your heart and die.
Somehow she’s made her way to you, as if she knew you’d been waiting for her, and takes your hand. Everyone gasps and you think you might cry.
You dance.
She’s taller than you, just the right height to rest your head on her shoulder, her hands around your waist. You feel her smile against your cheek and you whisper to her
I knew you’d come
You wake up to birdsong.
Stretching and hearing bones pop and crack, you remember you aren’t fifteen anymore. You haven’t been fifteen for a long time, which is a blessing. You weren’t happy then, and no idea of how much longer life would go on after your sixteenth birthday, nor how full it could ever be.
Next to you, shrouded in soft cotton and breathing like a song is Cindy. Her face is lined and her hair is going gray but you love her like the first time you saw her. You remember now it wasn’t at that dance. You met her years later, at the support group when she’d touched your hand while reaching for the coffee maker and asked what you were doing that night.
She’d tucked a hair behind her ear and looked away as she said it, and even then you’d wanted to kiss her, though you didn’t understand why.
You kiss her now, soft and warm against the junction of her jaw and ear, long enough to feel her stir beneath you. She reaches out and runs her thin fingers, beginning to show their age, along your cheek.
“Snow, what are you doing up?” she says, her words heavy, tongue swollen with sleep. You nuzzle against her shoulder and wrap your arms around her stomach, burrowing deeper into the comforter.
“I had the most wonderful dream,” you whisper. Cindy chuckles and rolls over so you can face her now. Her eyes are still closed but she’s smiling.
Smiling, shy and sure.
She kisses your mouth and the widening rays of morning sunlight play across her hair, making it shine like gold.
“You know what they say about dreams, don’t you?”
“No, what do they say?”
She kisses you again.
“They come true.”