Absurdism on Prom Night

I invent my own dance moves.

There are no dance moves. It's all relative motion. There are no fixed points in space. Ergo, my gyrations are always novel, never the same move twice. It makes sense in my head.

It's prom night, and I'm dancing my heart out, drawing a lot of looks. I flail my arms and wiggle my knees. I think I'll call this dance move the kaleidoscope.

"Nice one, Brandy!" Alice says.

"Thanks!"

Alice is my best friend, always has been. If you're going to find meaning in life by putting faith in something, I recommend placing faith in a friend like Alice. We're wearing clown outfits, because why not? All the other kids give us a wide berth, which suits us just fine.

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Now we're standing in the parking lot outside a 7-Eleven, bumming strangers for booze in our clown outfits. It's late. We've both come down from the high of dancing. We feel lethargic and heavy in the hot summer air. We lean against a wall, waiting for the next person to petition for alcohol. Time is relative. Time has gotten a lot slower since we stopped dancing. A line of ants marches by us into a crack in the pavement. Every second drags.

"Oh, look," I say. "A penny."

"What about it?" Alice says.

I shrug and squeeze my nose. It squeaks.

Alice grins and squirts water from the flower in her lapel.

We laugh, then a silence settles over us. Cars whoosh by on a distant freeway. The dumpster around the corner smells faintly of rotten fruit. I sigh.

"Why would there be two clowns standing outside a 7-Eleven on prom night rather than Nothing?"

"Psh! Beats me, dude."

Headlights pan across us like spotlights searching for escapees.

Alice elbows me in the side. "Hey, this one's yours. Be cool."

A man in a flannel jacked and a baseball cap descends from his truck and walks toward the 7-Eleven. I step into his path. "Hey, man. Sorry to bother you but my friend and I both forgot our IDs."

"Fuck off."

He checks me in the shoulder and continues inside. The door dings pleasantly, then swishes closed behind him. I turn back to Alice empty-handed.

"That guy was a douche anyway," she says. "The next one will help us out, I can feel it."

"You believe that?"

"Yeah, dude!"

"Okay." I join her again at our spot against the wall. The silence returns louder this time. An airplane passes overhead. A dog barks a few blocks away. I gaze up at the cloudless sky. Not many stars are visible in the city, but I can make out a few. One bright speck shines high in the sky. Maybe it's a planet. Maybe it's a satellite. Maybe it's a sign, but that seems the least likely option.

"Okay, so what I meant was this: why would there be Something, meaning Everything, rather than Nothing? Does that make sense? Like, how does Nothing make stuff?"

"I gotcha the first time, man. And I dunno. You know what that one guy said that one time, right? It's not Nothing that hurts, it's feeling like you need Something, then get Nothing instead. And we just can't let go of that flippin', um—" Alice spins a finger in circles beside her head. "You know what I mean?"

"No, yeah, totally."

Another car pulls up. Its fender is bent, mud and dead bugs mire its headlights and grill, and the muffled music blasting inside it rattles the car's frame with anarchic lyrics about burning down systems of oppression. The lyrics cut out mid-verse when the car shuts off.

"Oh, man," Alice rubs her hands together. "This guy's is the one. I can feel it!"

#

We're parked in my car at an overlook. Alice raises her beer like a chalice. "If there's one thing I've learned in life, it's that you can always trust goths and punks to help you out."

"Amen."

We cheer our beers and swallow gulps. I wince, Alice burps. We both laugh.

Alice sits back. "Woof. What a night."

"Yeah."

She's in the passenger seat. The space between us is a mountain range. My cheeks feel hot. We've taken off our wigs and noses, but our cake white makeup is still painted on an inch thick.

I start to say something, but so does she, and we interrupt each other.

"Sorry," I say.

"My bad," she says. "What were you gonna say?"

"No, you go."

"Okay. Um. Should we kiss?"

I look at her, genuinely shocked. She smiles at me sheepishly. I don't know why, but she looks so damn good to me in that stupid makeup. It feels like time is speeding up again.

"Okay!" I say, enthused.

We kiss once, then twice, then three times.

She pulls back an inch to look at me. Then she glances at the back seat and coyly waggles her eyebrows.

I nod and smile back at her.

Then she reaches up, pinches my nose, and says "honk."

We sit and stare at each other for a moment.

"Please don't do that when we're about to make out."

"Yeah, my bad."

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