“I, um, made it myself.” Alan cleared his throat.

I stared down into the box he’d handed me. “It’s really cute,” I told him. “It” was a pin in the shape of a heart with an arrow through it. As far as I could tell, it was made out of Sculpey. The heart was a little on the lumpy side, and the arrow looked more like a fishhook. “I love it,” I said.

And I meant it.

No boy had ever made me jewelry before. I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about Alan bent over a tiny piece of clay, working so hard to make something to give to me.

“You do?” Alan’s face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” I said. I reached into the box and lifted the pin out carefully. Then I pinned it onto my dress in a spot where it would show up nicely.

It was Friday night and Alan had arrived to pick me up for the Cupid’s Arrow Dance.

“You look awesome, Claudia.” Alan was almost whispering as he gazed at me.

I had put a lot of thought into my outfit. (I know, what else is new, right?) The Cupid’s Arrow Dance was not a dressy affair. But I wanted to look good. I had finally decided on a pink theme for Valentine’s Day. But not frilly, little-girl pink. That wasn’t me. I went with hot pink, paired with black to make it stand out even more.

I was wearing a short retro dress I’d found in a thrift shop. It had white trim and white heart-shaped buttons. I think it was from the sixties. I also wore clunky black shoes with a stacked heel and a square toe. I had a wristful of hot-pink bangles, and I’d pulled my hair back with a couple of pink barrettes.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” I asked him.

“Sure it’s too much,” Alan answered, grinning. “That’s what’s great about it.”

“You look pretty good yourself,” I told him. He had on a nice new pair of cargo pants, a cool pair of suede Converse All-Stars, and a big-but-not-baggy red shirt. Alan was not a bad-looking guy. Not bad at all.

My parents came into the front hall to see us off. They’ve met Alan before, of course, since he’s been around since we were both at Stoneybrook Elementary. Janine popped her head in too.

“You two look great together,” she commented.

I noticed a blush creeping up Alan’s cheeks.

“I mean, your color scheme matches,” Janine said quickly. “Pink and red. Perfect for the occasion.”

“Have a wonderful time,” my mom said.

“But don’t be too late,” my dad added.

Alan and I exchanged glances. “We won’t,” I said.

Then Alan held out his arm and asked, “Shall we?”

I put my arm through his, and we marched out the door.

As Mr. Gray drove us to SMS, I thought about what I was doing. If you had told me a month ago that I would be going to a dance with Alan Gray, I would have said you were out of your mind. And now I was not only going with him, but I wasn’t even embarrassed about it. I had begun to discover that Alan was a really nice guy. I didn’t care what anybody else thought.

I love the moment of arriving at a school dance. It’s always so exciting to approach SMS in the dark, see the light flood out of the building. It’s the same place, only different. I spend hours there every day, but when I come back for a dance it feels as though I’m going to a whole new place.

Usually, I’m one of the people who decorates the gym for dances. But this time I’d been too busy with the Yashimotos, so I had no idea what the decorating committee had come up with and it was especially fun to enter the gym and be surprised by the balloons and streamers that changed the look of the room.

The DJ had already cranked up the music by the time we arrived, and lots of kids were there. Not many of them were dancing yet; it takes awhile for everyone to feel comfortable.

I glanced around the room, looking for my friends.

And looking for Jeremy.

I had to admit it. I had come to the dance with Alan, but Jeremy was still on my mind. What would he be wearing? Would he ask me to dance?

I saw Mary Anne and Kristy, who had arrived together. Mary Anne looked a tiny bit uncomfortable, since she’s still not used to coming to dances without Logan. Kristy looked uncomfortable too. She never looks relaxed when she’s dressed up.

I caught Kristy’s eye and waved to her, and she nudged Mary Anne and pointed me out. Both of them waved back.

Stacey wasn’t at the dance. She had decided to spend another weekend in New York with her dad instead. I had a feeling she might have a date with Ethan.

“Want some punch?” Alan had leaned over to talk into my ear. The music was pounding too loudly for regular conversation.

“Sure,” I yelled back.

He headed toward the refreshment table.

I watched him go, noticing how everyone who saw him pass smiled and waved. Alan might have had a reputation for being obnoxious, but he was also — in a weird way — sort of popular. Everybody knew him, and everybody thought he was a funny guy.

I felt someone bump into me from behind, and turned around. Stephanie Boxer was glaring at me. She was wearing a flouncy white dress, dripping with lace. She looked just a teeny bit like a bride.

“I can’t believe you’re leading him on like this,” she hissed. “How could you let him think you actually like him?”

“I do like him,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “And why is it your business?”

“Because I love him,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And I don’t want to see him get hurt.”

I held up both hands. “Wait a second. Nobody’s going to get hurt.”

Just then, Alan returned carrying two cups of punch. Stephanie gazed at him for a second, then melted into the crowd.

“What did —?” he started to say.

I waved a hand. “She’s just — never mind.” I shook my head.

Alan handed me my punch, and we stood sipping and watching the dancers. The DJ was picking up the tempo by then, and more kids were on the dance floor. I scanned the crowd — and then I saw him.

Jeremy.

He was dancing with Emily.

I felt my heart do a little flip. Then I looked at them more carefully. I don’t know how to explain it, but there are things you can tell about people by the way they dance together. Serious couples dance one way, people who are interested in each other dance a different way. And friends? They’re easy to spot too.

Jeremy and Emily were definitely dancing as friends, not as a couple.

I let out a sigh of relief.

Alan glanced my way. He couldn’t have heard my sigh — the music was way too loud — but I had the feeling he knew what I was thinking.

“Want to dance?” he asked.

“I —” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t feel ready to dance yet. “Why don’t you ask her?” I suggested, pointing to Stephanie. She was standing nearby, making an effort to look anywhere but at Alan and me.

Alan looked at her, then back at me. “I’d rather wait to dance with you,” he said. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

I smiled at him. He was being all sweet again. The DJ cued up one of my favorite songs. “Okay, I’m ready,” I said to Alan. “Let’s go.”

We danced to three songs in a row. Alan had a good sense of rhythm. I was surprised. He seemed comfortable on the dance floor.

“How did you learn how to dance like that?” I yelled over the music.

“Watching MTV,” he yelled back. “I just copy whatever they do. It’s fun!”

I started copying his moves. We were moving to the beat as if we’d been dancing together all our lives. I was having a great time.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Alan froze in midstep and stared at — Jeremy. “Um, no,” he said. “That’s okay. I mean, if Claudia wants to —”

Jeremy looked at me. “Do you?” he asked.

Those eyes. That smile. How could I resist?

“Okay,” I said.

Alan nodded and disappeared.

And then it was just Jeremy and me.

The song Alan and I had been dancing to ended and another one began. A slow one.

Jeremy and I looked at each other for a moment. Then he held out his arms and I moved closer. We started to dance, swaying together to the beat.

“You look great,” Jeremy said into my ear.

I felt my heart beat a little faster. This was the moment I’d been waiting for and wondering about. Were we finally going to tell each other the truth about how we felt?

If we were, I had to figure out what I was going to say.

I liked Jeremy. But did I like like him?

Maybe not. And maybe I didn’t care so much if he liked me that way.

Maybe we were meant to be “just friends,” after all. Because that’s how we were dancing. Even though we were dancing to a slow song, we were dancing like people who are friends. We weren’t holding close, or looking into each other’s eyes. Anyone who was watching would have known in an instant that we were buds. No more, no less. Just friends.

I realized something else just then too.

I realized I would rather be dancing with Alan.

Which made absolutely no sense.

No sense at all.