He looks down at me and smiles kindly, like he always does. The ringlets of his curly blond hair, which is not in a ponytail now, fall down the sides of his face.

“Shall we do this?” he asks while extending his hands out in an invitation to slow dance.

“We shall,” I say, taking them as he pulls me into his chest.

We slow dance like two old people at a church party. The heat of our bodies is not fully unleashed so we are not entirely comfortable pressed against each other. His body is muted by religion, and mine by fear.

As the music becomes explicitly more sexual, I feel the hardness of his longing on my hip, which I knew was there all along. Finally, I think to myself. I melt into him. His body feels better than I could have ever imagined. I turn around and grind my backside into him, like I’ve seen the girls do in the music videos and like so many others are doing now. I forget the Black shame temporarily and meet him as just another human needing to be touched and seen in Rumi’s field. I don’t care if I failed a course and barely passed the others. I don’t even care if my mind is unraveling and I’m mentally ill. This moment has given me more value in myself than anything else in my life. Someone finally wants me.

I do what comes naturally after a moment like this, at least in the movies. I turn around and kiss him. My eyes are closed so I don’t see the disgust on his face. I only feel the jerking of his body away from me, painfully away from me. The space between us again filled with the fear of crossing lines he never dreamed he would, and the consequences that often follow such actions.

“I can’t,” he says. “It’s not like that between us. You’re amazing… but… I just can’t.” He leaves, prancing away, just like Manda Panda before her incident with Trevor. Why didn’t I notice before that Bryce prances too?

“You’re amazing, but…” pounds my insides like molten lava trapped in a volcano. “But,” I repeat to myself over and over. It hasn’t happened yet, but I know his “but” is the cliff off which I will finally end myself. I didn’t do it on the hiking trip in the woods, but this has finally pushed me over. There is no purpose to my life if no one wants to love me.