Amanda had just gotten home from the party, and it was two in the morning.

It had been a great one, that party. Good food, good music, and, best of all, a great dancefloor. The dance had been in the gym, and the floor had been a wonderful and new and wooden, not like the ugly old wood flooring at her old school. This floor was clean and shiny, and had clearly just been installed days prior.

Her boyfriend dropped her off in the driveway, and she walked up the front porch steps. Unlocking the front door and stepping inside, she noticed all the lights were off, and with relief went to her room. She didn’t want her mom asking “how was the party” “who was there?” did “did you have fun?”.

She changed out of her t-shirt and shorts and into a long baggy shirt of her dad’s. After she washed her face and removed her contacts, she crawled into her bed and closed her eyes. Amanda fell asleep. And dreamt of dancing.