Lainey wears purple—the fabric swirls as she spreads her wings. Not majestic like an eagle, but bright and chirpy like a sparrow. Her spins make me dizzy, and she twists and gyrates, the thin gauze of her dress floating in my vision. Everyone stares, everyone except my husband who watches me watching her.
The DJ lets the song play on repeat, the same one we played when we danced in our dorm room and Lainey sways and remembers, turning to touch me, to smile and even with chips in her teeth, she is perfect.
The DJ lets the song play on repeat, the same one we played when we danced in our dorm room and Lainey sways and remembers, turning to touch me, to smile and even with chips in her teeth, she is perfect.
