I hadn't thought of this scene until a friend mentioned the first time she was aware of being attracted to someone. He was an actor, seriously older, but the feeling was new.
Later on I remembered...
She had short hair, a button-down blue Oxford shirt, kaiki pants and danced with a swagger. I watched her move across the dance floor--her feet syncing to the Greek music. When the room heated up she rolled her shirt cuffs up and continued to dance.
I didn't need to know her name, or what she did, or if she was attending school. I wasn't going to meet her or even attempt to say hello-- she was the "older woman" and I was the acolyte. At the time I didn't have words.
Two days later I wrote a poem about her dancing, about her short spike hair, and the way she moved across the floor. And the next week I bought a blue button down shirt and turned the cuffs up.