"You dance with a boy in G-G-Georg-Georgia and you're gonna get your ass kicked pretty fucking hard. Even looking queer, looking not manly, fucking whatever reason. You dance with a g-girl, you meet your first love at cotillion and you f-fucking like it." Jon explained as he thought back to Georgia and all he had left behind. He missed the sun, the peaches, the old dirt roads, the crows and his blue truck but otherwise, he missed little else.

"No girl wanted to dance with me." A tragedy, of course. "I was usually s-s-sick those weeks." He liked dancing but that didn't really matter. Girls found him creepy and guys wanted to beat his ass. It was better to be sick during dance season. "Dancing with a boy is dog-gone stupid."