“They wanted to be on the floor,” she’d explained. “It’s not our scene. Everyone will be wasted and it will be crowded and loud. We won’t be able to enjoy the show.” He’d have hated to be stuck on his feet in the middle of a pulsing crowd for three hours. It would have embarrassed him if she’d bought separate seats just out of consideration for him, like he was the killjoy who didn’t like to have fun, but she’d done it because she didn’t want to be down there, either. She loved music, loved the band, and she had stood in their front-row seats in the bleachers, swaying and singing along with
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