He smiled at me briefly. “I know … I just haven’t seen this kind of … performance from our boys before.”

“Well, it’s a new world. All boys want to be hip-hop heroes now. Haven’t you heard?”

“I have.” A pause. “But as you know, I don’t love it.” He smiled at me more fully and the tension was broken as the song ended, the stomping boys yelling and rubbing each other’s heads gleefully. They looked so happy, especially Rashid. It made it easy not to think anymore about the look on Jerome’s face, not to worry about what it might mean.

The boys dispersed, the music continued, and suddenly there it was: that crystalline, thudding opening break, followed by Stevie’s “Ooh yeah, babe …” booming through the gym. The kid who was DJ’ing put it on reverb so that the hooting and yelling could really build up: “Teachers! Teachers! Teachers! Teachers!” On impulse I grabbed Jerome’s hand in one of mine and hit the floor. Helen and the rest of the chaperones followed.

I hadn’t danced in public in years. Literally years. But the old, well-loved song rang through the gym, and I let it take me. I looked at Jerome, laughing. He was a surprisingly good dancer, fluid and easy. Despite his formal manners, he had the look of a man who did a little dancing alone in his living room every once in a while, just like me. Helen was stiff, but game; Bob hammed it up for the kids. The students encircled us, hollering wildly. I felt my hair coming undone. I reached up and took out the pins, enjoying the eyes on me, the movie-star theatricality of the gesture. After I did it, Jerome took my hand and spun me into one smooth twist—like we were both in high school ourselves. I laughed and spun away from him as the kids roared. We grinned at each other and his hand was so tight on mine and I felt this highway open up inside me and I was driving down it as fast as I could. I was so tired of being alone, so tired of keeping my chin up, so tired of controlling it and resisting this desire, this wanting, this man who thought I was so beautiful. Who thought that about me anymore? Why should I say no to it? Why not just say yes? I closed my eyes and let Stevie wash over me, let that gorgeous break in the song carry me away. The voices were sweet in my ears. I was free.