Still nothing.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then an hour.
I moved from one table to another.
I tried to talk to people.
But conversations already had their groups.
I eventually stopped trying.
I stood near the wall.
Watching.
That’s when I noticed Caleb.
I knew who he was.
Everyone did.
Caleb Morgan.
Football captain.
Tall.
Funny.
Confident.
The kind of guy teachers liked and girls whispered about.
I had spoken to him maybe five times in four years.
Mostly in class.
Never outside it.
I saw him talking with his friends.
Several girls were around him.
Then, suddenly, he looked across the room.
At me.
I looked away.
When I looked back, he was still watching.
Then he started walking toward me.
My stomach tightened.
Maybe he was going somewhere else.
He wasn’t.
He stopped in front of me.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“You having fun?”
I gave him a small smile.
“Sure.”
He looked at me.
“You’re lying.”
I laughed.
“Maybe.”
He glanced toward the dance floor.
Then back at me.
“Come dance.”
I thought I’d misunderstood him.
“What?”
“Dance with me.”
I looked around.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Because I want to.”
I looked at his hand.
Then at him.
