A diamond needle meets vinyl and crackles the air; electric guitar licks resonate ceiling to floor; and, like divers slicing water after flawless somersaults, The Beach Boys rock into Surfin’ USA. A late arrival, I merge into a ring of students watching the more confident graduates of our eighth grade class partner up. In perfect sync, they are masters of the Swim, Twist, Jitterbug, Mashed Potatoes.
Dead center, with taps on her flats and charm bracelets jingling on her wrists, is Becky, one of my best friends. My other best friend, Jillie, is mortified because her latest diet backfired: instead of losing five pounds she gained six; she’s nowhere to be seen.
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