One more time.
Bodies pressed in close all around. Ariel had been attempting to weave through the crowd, half-dancing, half-walking like a normal person, a red cup gripped tightly in his left hand, when someone turned on their heel and caromed straight into him. The watery, amber beer sloshed against the white plastic sides of the cup, but miraculously didn't send more than a few droplets flying into the mass of teenagers pushing against each other. The boy made a sound of surprise and steadied himself quickly enough. It was only when he was sure neither he nor the cup were going to fall that he realized he was standing chest to chest with a stranger, only a handspan or two between them.
Tonight was one of those that happened once, maybe twice, in a year. Ariel was without a bowtie. And though he'd initially felt someone self-conscious, more than a little naked, without something cinched around his throat, he'd had enough to drink by now that he hardly noticed. And indeed, even rarer was the fact that the boy's hair was - yes, it was disheveled. It hadn't fully extradicted itself from the sticky grasp of the thick hair gel Ariel slathered on each morning, but it was slowly curling. A stray black spring of hair hung in his face, brushing at the top of his eyebrows.
With no bowtie in sight, he'd arrived at the party in a thick maroon cardigan, layered over a white t-shirt with black stripes and three buttons open at the throat. His jeans were dark, cuffed so they landed just above his ankles. It was a casual look - at least for him. By now, however, the cardigan was MIA and Ariel's usual composure had given way to exuberance and a complete lack of inhibition - he'd hardly had any to begin with, and after a three vodka shots, an hour of dancing, and a beer or two, there was nothing left.
It was with a wide smile that Ariel looked up at the other boy who'd run into him. He recognized him. He didn't know the kid (yet!), but the small dais erected for the band had given him enough height to have a good view of the party. And the boy was not the forgettable type.. He was tall, blond, athletic, obviously a touch drunk, and extremely attractive. He'd been near to the "stage" and had stood, eyes glued on the band as they played, clearly enraptured - whether by their skill or something out, Ariel couldn't say. What he could say, however, was that this was clearly a moment he needed to capitalize on.
"Don't apologize," replied the boy without a bowtie in a loud voice, hoping to be heard over the bass of the song playing. "I thought it was just a unique way of dancing."