Would she be able to overcome the awkwardness and actually dance?

For decades, high-school dances have served as a rite of passage for teenagers, with generations of high schoolers suffering through the same basic components — earsplitting music, boys eyeing the exposed dance floor and girls shrieking and jumping.

The modern version typically features pop and hip-hop music played by a DJ. Attendees come with groups of friends, often dressed in costumes dictated by a theme.

The theme on Friday was Halloween, and Jazzy had decided to dress as a cheetah.

She asked friend Kelsey Tyas, a junior, to come over before the dance to help her with the costume.

"Should I wear the gray cardigan?" Jazzy, dressing in her room, yelled to Kelsey, who was applying makeup in the bathroom.

"Maybe I should have been a ninja."

"Can you draw on my whiskers?"

Jazzy settled on a gray and black dotted cardigan, matching skirt, black top, and a fluffy black tail.

The cheetah got a ride from her father, a 52-year-old occupational therapist. Tom Kellough didn't seem too rattled by this particular moment in his daughter's life. On the way, he simply asked her to be careful.

As she got out of the car, Jazzy's stomach tightened.

A meeting space at Seattle Center, where the school is located, had been decorated with ribbon, skeletons and masks. On one side was the dance floor; on the other were chairs and tables, including one stocked with cookies, soda and organic lemonade.

The girls headed for the tables. Jazzy was too nervous to dance.

Andy Bell looked on from the doorway. An American Studies teacher and longtime chaperone, Bell said dances at the 300-student arts-focused school are usually tame.

That's not always the case at other high schools, said Phil Brockman, an executive director at Seattle Public Schools.

Brockman cited modern regulations regarding conduct at school dances — prohibiting students from dancing on the floor or with their bodies at an angle of less than 45 degrees, for example

"These days, it's complicated," he said.

A half-hour into Friday's dance, Jazzy was worried that she wouldn't dance at all. Still feeling self-conscious, the normally composed ballerina sat with a few friends, watching.

Sophomore Eleanor Clayton approached and tugged at her arm.

"Dance!" Eleanor pleaded.

"No!" Jazzy howled, her voice carrying over the music. "I'm not ready!"

A minute later, though, the night took a turn.

The DJ put on "Rude Boy" by Rihanna, prompting Eleanor and others to run to the dance floor. And Jazzy decided to join them.

She spent the next two hours dancing, only stopping for air or to persuade a friend to join.

Even in today's complicated world, Jazzy found her solution was simple: "I just had to kinda let myself go."

As for the next dance, Jazzy said there are only two things she wants to do differently.

"I'm going to come with a bigger group," she said.

"And be less nervous."

From: 

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2016652959_schooldance31m.html