party

The duranguence is blaring but only the lime and white balloon arches sway across the dance floor: soon the space will be filled with cowboy hats and tight ponytails, boots and strappy sandals, but for now the night is too young. At the surrounding tables,teenage girls in short dresses and their coolly untucked boys drink cans of Bud as they text and pose for pictures,and none of the grown-ups says a word as they pass the time until the cake and the last of the quinceanera rituals by mentally tallying this party against the last and the next; they're all different, they're all the same. Only the middle school girls are in a hurry as they flutter between the ladies' room and the corner back by the kitchen where they circle, and bounce to the music, and imagine their turn.