'No,' I said. 'On the TV You know. Prom.'
Michael looked up at the TV, at all the students dancing in their formal wear, and went, 'No.'
'Yeah, but seriously. Think about it. It might be cool. You know. To go and make fun of.' This was not really my idea of a perfect prom night, but it was better than nothing. 'And you don't have to wear a tux, you know. I mean, there's like no rule
that says you do. You could just wear a suit. Or not even a suit. You could wear jeans and one of those T-shirts that look
like a tux.'
Michael looked at me like he thought I might have dropped a globe on my head.
'You know what would be even more
fun?' he said.
I heaved this enormous sigh. It was sort of hard to have this intensely personal conversation there in the St Vincent's ER
waiting room, because not only was my bodyguard
sitting RIGHT THERE, but so were all these sick people, some of whom
were coughing EXTREMELY loudly right in
But I tried to remember the fact that I am a gifted healer and should be tolerant of their disgusting germs.
'But, Michael,' I said. 'Seriously. We could go bowling any old night. And frequently do. Wouldn't it be more fun, just once,
to get all dressed up and go dancing?'
'You want to go dancing?' Michael perked up. 'We could go dancing. We could go to the Rainbow Room if you want. My parents go there on their anniversary and stuff. It's supposed to be really nice. There's live music, really great old-time jazz, and—'
'Yeah,' I said. 'I know. I'm sure the Rainbow Room is very nice. But I mean, wouldn't it be nice to go dancing some place
with PEOPLE OUR OWN AGE?'
'Like from AEHS?' Michael looked sceptical. 'I guess so. I mean, if like Trevor and Felix and Paul were going to be there . . .' These are the guys from his band. 'But you know, they wouldn't be caught dead at something as lame as the prom.'
OH, MY GOD. It is EXTREMELY hard to be lifemates with a musician. Talk about marching to your own drummer.
Michael marches to his own BAND.
I know Michael and Trevor and Felix and Paul are cool and all, but I still fail to see what is so lame about the prom. I mean, you get to elect a Prom King and Queen. At what other social function do you get to elect monarchs to rule over the proceedings? Hello, how about none.
But whatever. I am not going to let Michael's refusal to act like a typical male seventeen year old get in the way of my enjoyment of this evening. You know, the family togetherness my mom and Mr. G and I are currently having. We are all
having a nice time watching
Fat Louie wouldn't walk to the corner to get help for me. Or he might, but he would soon be distracted by a pigeon and run
off, never to be seen again, while my corpse rotted on the floor.
Asperger's syndrome
A Report
by
Mia Thermopolis
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