You go looking for Randall, needing a friend right now.

You took a moment to go and sit on the bleachers. After taking some deep breaths and calming down somewhat, you realized that, on some level, Allison was right. You hadn't been gelling like you'd used to. You felt a little foolish for overreacting, but you were still a bit too proud to go and apologize. And it was embarrassing, if nothing else, to be dumped at a dance. You didn't even like dances! You only came because Allison had convinced you to be more social. It was much easier to walk into a dance knowing the hottest girl in school was waiting for you. Now you were just another nervous single guy in the crowd. Looking back, it was easier to realize that this was coming. Something had been off with her all week. Putting you off, insisting on making up with Randall, breaking plans. You supposed it was easier to stick your head in the sand than to dig around for a meaning in all this. Besides, it was bound to end someday. You knew that Allison wanted to go to school back east and, though you weren't sure where you wanted to go, it certainly wasn't anywhere near there.

A gave another deep sigh. No matter how much you reasoned and rationalized, it didn't change the fact that it hurt. Allison had been important to you and losing her was another uncomfortable change in what was proving to be a series of uncomfortable changes. It was a relief in a strange way. You'd been doing your best to squash the guilt you felt for sleeping with Randall. At least you no longer had to feel the unpleasant pang your deception had caused or feel like a cheat for lusting after Randall's curves. After all that time... Finally having sex... Losing your girlfriend made you feel as though you were never going to get another. You'd just started to get used to the idea of having sex. Surely you would again, but at the moment, it was hard to feel so certain. You smiled to yourself. Your track record was pretty good after all. The hottest girl and the hottest teacher. Hopefully things would continue in that pattern. You were feeling more social these days.

While that was true, at the moment, you didn't feel much like sticking around. Too much fun and too many couples slow dancing. You didn't want to spend the start of your weekend moping around. If there was anyone who could pull you out of your funk, it was Randall. Maybe he'd be able to shirk dance duty and you guys could get out of here.

That plan was sounding better by the second. Eagerly, you went in search of Randall, pushing your way through the ever growing number of dance attendees. You honed in on where the teachers and other chaperones were socializing. You didn't want to linger long, but Randall didn't seem to be there. Thinking that he was probably playing teacher and scold more students somewhere, you milled about in the general area, trying to avoid looking conspicuous. Minutes passed by and Randall did not return. Giving up, you decided to look elsewhere.

As you started to move toward the exit, thinking perhaps Randall might be outside, you accidentally bumped into Principal Johnson. He seemed as though he was in a rush to move on and made no acknowledgement of your presence, only stopping to look at you coldly for a second. His face was somewhere between a scowl and a nervous smile. To say that it made you uncomfortable would be an understatement. Brushing it off, you went about your business, taking only a second to glance in the direction the principal had come from.

The dim light played across Miss Card's auburn tresses. Finally ready to get Randall and talk him into getting out of here, you started to move towards him. As you drew closer, fewer people incumbered your line of sight and you realized that Randall was not alone, he was with Mr. Hanson and they were... dancing. Their arms were draped about each other, bodies pressed close, as they slowly danced to the song. As close as they were, Randall's swollen melons were squished against him. They seemed locked in animated conversation. You felt a bit deflated. It seemed awkward seeing Randall dancing like that with Mr. Hanson. It wasn't out of character for Miss Card, but in a moment where you really needed your friend, you found that sight somewhat off putting. You considered getting his attention despite the dance, but reasoned that you didn't want to fall back into old jealous habits. Unfortunately, as you felt pride in your personal progress, you also bore witness to Mr. Hanson making a bold move, running his hands from where they were positioned politely on Randall's thin waist (Hanson's hands nearly encircling it entirely) down over his rather prodigious, shapely rump. Mr. Hanson's sizable hands each cupped at the bottom of Randall's cheeks, giving them a playful squeeze. Those hands looked remarkably small in comparison to the ass they were attempting to knead. You could see Randall's eyes go wide and you were sure that he was going to let Hanson have it.

Surprisingly, the conversation continued and the hands were not removed. The sight was discouraging and more than you were willing to deal with at the moment. Whatever was going on over there, it seemed rude to continue gawking. When you really needed your best friend to lament your woman woes to, seeing him act like a woman, in the rather physical embrace of an attractive man no less, only served to depress you further. You didn't even have enough to muster a shred of jealousy. Not bothering to watch any further, you turned and walked out the door. It seemed like a waste of the evening to head home so early, but you couldn't stay at the dance and you felt uncomfortable bothering Randall to leave.

It was a lonely walk back to the car. You could hear the music and cheers emanating from the gym. So much for your first (and probably last dance). Maybe prom if there was someone around worth the effort. You felt a creeping cynicism pushing the likelihood of that idea aside. Unlikely... Finally making it to the car, you moved to unlock the door when you heard a sharp whistle slice through the relative silence.

Shocked, you turned to see what it was, finding nothing. You shrugged. "Whatever..." you muttered, unlocking the door.

There was another whistle, followed by a whispered shout. "Hey! Asshat!" Normally, you would assume that the whistle and shout was for someone other than yourself, but being alone in the parking lot, it was clearly meant for you. Semi-amused, you looked around the parking lot. At the other end, you could see a figure half hanging out of the driver seat waving you over. Happy for anything to deter you from going straight home, you trotted over. As you closed the distance, you recognized the waving person as Bryce. He gestured for you to get in the passenger seat.

"Timbo! How's your night, bro? You look like hell," said Bryce, sounding concerned under the typical layer of bravado.

"Yeah... I've had, uh... better nights to say the least," you said, attempting not to sound as depressed as you were.

"Allison broke up with you, huh?"

Your eyes shot wide. You hadn't been single twenty minutes, let alone seen Bryce anywhere inside. "How the hell did you know that?" you asked, surprised.

"Two ways, actually," he said, voice full of confidence. "First, you have that 'I just got broke up with' look about you. Second, Shawna told me Allison was going to do it." Your heart sunk. Looks like your break up wasn't much of a secret and more importantly, it had been on a schedule. "Sorry, bud." He clapped you on the shoulder.

"Ugh. I can't believe she told Shawna," you said in a huff. "Fucking figures."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Shawna dumped me tonight, too."

"What?! Bryce, you know I'm not Shawna's biggest fan, but I thought you guys had a, um... decent thing going. The hell happened?" Bryce's chiseled physique and good looks seemed an easy answer to getting girls. It was still difficult for you to comprehend that he would have these kind of problems at all.

In a relaxed and explanatory tone, Bryce began. "Well, Shawna's older brother is coming back into town for the weekend. He's in his final year at State. He's bringing a couple of his buddies back to crash and hang out. I think Shawna's got a crush on one of them. I guess she's just trying to trade up. It's cool though. I'm over it." Despite his relaxed demeanor, you had your doubts that he'd let all that go so simply. The fact of the matter was, Bryce was out in the parking lot by himself before you got there.

Bryce's expression turned serious. "I don't know this for a fact, dude, but I think that might have something to do with why Allison broke up with you. Don't quote me on that shit. I know she's going over to stay at Shawna's for the weekend also and well, uh... you get the picture." Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest. It was one thing to get dumped because your relationship hit it's expiration date, but another to get tossed aside for greener pastures.

"Fuck her."

"That's what I'm saying!" chimed Bryce.

"So..." you prodded, "What were you doing out here?"

Bryce grinned mischievously. "Glad you asked, Timmy boy!" Reaching back under his seat, Bryce withdrew a large handle of whiskey. "I was saving this to party with after the dance, but I'm not much in the mood to hang with the crowd tonight. I'm sure you understand." You nodded in agreement. "Figured I'd come out here and take my mind of things. Fuck it. YOLO."

"That's a big bottle, dude."

"There's that and I got some beer in the back. You know, in case we kill this."

"We?"

Bryce tsk-tsked you. "Tim. Tim. Tim. Who do you think is gonna help me drink this shit?"