Free Last Dance by Caroline B. Cooney

in red pants, and I’m going to leave in pink. Look at this, all my dye is on the pavement. Hey, Kip, throw me a towel, too! I’m going to turn it red for them.” He walked wide-legged toward Anne and Lee, dripping pinkly all the way.
    Gary glanced back over his shoulder. Beth Rose had not followed. He could see her hovering by the bushes. In the dark he could not tell what she was thinking, or what she wanted. But then Beth Rose rarely said what she wanted anyway. You had to guess, which Gary found difficult. He would in some ways have preferred Kip, who all but made you out a list.
    Con sighed and tagged after Gary. He was going to get blamed for the water thing, too. Okay, he was to blame for the baby. But he hadn’t pushed Anne! He would never do a thing like that! She was just clumsy and awkward. Although she was invariably graceful. For a moment Con wondered…and remembered that Anne had called him names in front of all their classmates. Cockroach!
    I stuck by you, he thought, conveniently forgetting that he had stuck much closer to Molly.
    He took a deep breath. Okay, he would be mature about all this. It was what his parents told him to do all day long. Furious, humiliated, and resentful—but trying to look casual—Con decided to hug Anne.
    Anne walked away from him.
    Con grit his teeth and walked after her.
    Anne walked farther away.
    Con didn’t move again. Let her sob into her towel! He could not stand any more of this female-ness!
    He stood, wondering how to extricate himself from this mess, when his friend Gary rescued him once again. Gary said, “Hey, Con, dance with Beth Rose for me till we get dried off, okay? And get our quizzes all filled out. I want that VCR!”
    Con saluted, grateful for the assignment. He didn’t have to follow Anne, and he didn’t have to worry about Molly making a move either. He could just be Beth Rose’s escort. “Come on, Beth,” he said. He thought that if anybody in the ballroom teased him for being called a cockroach by his girlfriend he would break their bones. And enjoy doing it.
    The resort’s cabana included not just hot showers and dressing rooms, but a couple of clothes dryers and a nice selection of hair dryers. Kip convinced the boys and Anne to wrap up in the huge white towels while she tossed their clothes in a dryer. She put Anne’s at low heat in one dryer so wrinkles wouldn’t set in the fragile fabric, and the boys’ suits in the second dryer. Lee and Gary paraded in front of their small but appreciative audience with the towels around their waists, chests thrown forward, arguing about whose muscles and whose tan were superior.
    “Gary wins,” Lee said mournfully. “And to think I’ve graduated and will never have another chance.”
    “There’s all summer,” Gary pointed out. “I’m in a fighting mood. Water does that to me. While everybody else dances, you and I can wrestle.”
    “No,” Anne said, “don’t wrestle. Let’s all calm down.” She didn’t feel well; her insides felt all mushy. She looked at these boys and tried to imagine herself saying chummily, “See, I just had a baby, and I’m not all the way on my feet, yet.” Oh, yes, a perfect opening line for everyday chat at a dance.
    She wanted Con here wrapping this hot towel around her, drying her hair, telling her not to worry, telling her he was sorry. This was the dance that she had dreaded, and he had insisted she had to go to, then he started the evening off by shoving her into the water?
    Lee, knowing nothing of Anne’s background, kept on talking about wrestling. He seemed to think Anne would love to watch a good wrestling match here in the cabana—give her a little something to enjoy while she dried her hair.
    Should Kip tell Lee that Anne was weepy because her darling Con, the father of her baby, had once again proved a rather weak limb to go out on?
    But holding the dryer to Anne’s hair, running her fingers through the golden strands to separate them and fluff