The Glass Gate

I let Amber pull me forward. The music of the fiddles and drums thrummed through my bones, making my toes itch with the urge to tap. Still, I edged toward the empty wooden benches near the edge of the clearing. Maybe I’d watch for a bit. Get my bearings.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Amber linked my arm in hers and marched me toward the dancers. “I promised we’d have fun. I know you like to hide—”
“I don’t hide!” I protested.
“With your oversized hoodies and your wardrobe of black and gray.”
“It’s comfy.”
“Have you ever thought about what your life would be like—what you could do—if you actually let people see you?”
“It’s not that simple.” I wasn’t hiding, not really. I was just busy.
“It’s that simple tonight. No hiding. Let’s party!”
The music thrummed through my bones as Amber spun us laughing into the crowd. I wasn't what anyone would call a skilled dancer, but it didn’t seem to matter.
Some of the fae danced with intricate steps and some swirled past with abandon. The effect was chaotic but beautiful and free. I spun on the trampled grass of the meadow until my feet ached and my throat was dry. I lost Amber in the mix, and when I turned to look for her, I collided with the dancer beside me.
“Apologies, my lady,” panted the tall red-haired man. He wore a simple but perfectly cut linen tunic and dark trousers with tall leather boots. His green eyes sparkled, and his freckled face was flushed from dancing. He gave me a courtly bow. I attempted a curtsy, almost tipping over as I realized how much I’d been twirling. The man laughed. His deep voice vibrated through me as he steadied me with a hand on my arm. I felt the heat of it through my silk sleeve.
He raised his voice to be heard over the music. “Let me get you a drink before we both fall over.”
“Well.” I hesitated. But hadn't Amber told me to have fun? I smiled up at the handsome fae in front of me. “A drink sounds perfect.”