You are laughing at nothing. That is what it looks like from the outside, and later I will love that about this whole scene: a warehouse full of people swaying to different songs, each one locked in a private green or blue or red glow from the headphones, dancing to music only they can hear.
Look how careful you are not to be too much. You keep glancing at the woman beside you, checking whether your arms are doing something embarrassing. They are. It's fine.
Take the headphones off for a second. Do it. That's the part I come back for. The music vanishes and you can suddenly hear it: forty people breathing hard, shoes squeaking on concrete, somebody wheezing a laugh, the whole gorgeous graceless sound of bodies trying. No song underneath to make it make sense. Just people, moving, because someone said they could.
You think tonight is a story about being slightly awkward at a party. From here it is one of the last times your knees will let you jump like that without a second thought.
Turn the red light back on. Find the beat again. And when the woman beside you catches your eye and shrugs, mouthing a song you can't hear, shrug back. Her name is worth learning.
You'll see.