Back in Black

To be quite honest, I did not have high hopes for Back in Black. “Don’t dress up,” said a lower in my dorm. “But wear something small and cute. But not too small, because people will take it as an invitation.” “Stop it, you’re scaring her” said one of her friends. She turned to me. “Don’t listen to her. It’s just a mosh pit.” This sounded only slightly better. On Saturday, Phelps Science Building had a big “V” plastered on it in twinkling lights, like a beacon for preps who didn’t know where Grainger Auditorium was. The lobby was filled with balloons and people and bowls of Oreos. It was surprisingly cold, especially considering I had been warned about the heat by every person I had spoken to about this particular event. But when I walked into the auditorium itself, the temperature rose at least 10 degrees and the air became thick with humidity. People clumped together and jumped—not quite to the beat—in an uncoordinated pile of teenagers. Strobe lights flickered, making everything feel detached, like a stop-motion film or maybe a fever dream. But when a good song came on, my friend snatched my hand, and pulled me deeper into the crowd, deeper until we were pressed against strangers and so close to the speakers that we could feel the beat in our throats. The good thing about mosh pits is that nobody cares about you. You can dance without self-consciousness. You are so close to everyone else, that you’re practically connected. That becomes less fun, however, when somebody falls down on you. Suddenly you and four other people are on the floor—which is somehow slick with sweat—and your friend has to pick you up and take you outside for an Oreo and some air.The lobby was filled with lowers saying things like, “This dance was better last year” and muttering “preps” disapprovingly, no doubt referring to the ninth graders, including me, who had done things like fill their cup with questionable punch they thought was water and then drank it because they were too afraid to say anything. Maybe they were talking about the preps who had stumbled into the opposite gender restroom to wash their hands because they could barely see, or the new students who crouched down behind a table to hide from an overbearing friend trying to pull them back onto the dance floor.But I think we can all agree that the highlight of the night was when Dean Moriarty lifted a shoe in the air for around five minutes and a group of students formed a circle around him, thinking that he was leading a strange dance—only to realize that somebody had lost a shoe and Dean Moriarty was circling the edge of the dance floor trying to figure out who it belonged to.There are two sides to Back in Black. One is blurry and exciting and dancing with your friends. The other is headaches and suspicious punch and—seriously—how did that floor get so sweaty? But all things considered, as first dances go, this seemed like a good start.