“Hey!” Sam tapped me on the shoulder. “You look great. I really like your dress.” He gave me a huge, dimply smile.

My flipping stomach returned. It was really going for a gold medal.

“Thanks!” I said. He was looking cute too, but I didn’t know how to say so without sounding dorky. So I ended up with, “I like your tie.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he said. It had monkeys on it.

I blushed. He picked out that tie for me! My stomach tried to kick its way past my rib cage. I wanted to think of something to say, but I guess my brain was on a break. So I stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching my classmates on the dance floor. The disco ball sent doughnuts of light spinning around the room. It was kind of like being in a snow globe.

“Do you want to dance?” Sam asked.

“Of course she doesn’t.” The voice came from behind Sam. “Do you think she wants to limp all over the floor?” Missy stood there in her sparkly princess dress, with her glossy hair and Ultrabrite teeth, sneering at me.

My stomach finally stumbled, then fell with a splat. I wanted to say something, but I was too stunned.

“Missy, why don’t you go take a flying leap off a gondola?” Sam said, taking my hand. He led me toward the dance floor, but I hesitated at the edge.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip. “Sam—Missy is…”

“A moron?” Sam guessed.

“Well… but maybe she’s right.” I glanced down at my feet. My skin felt cold and clammy, as if my embarrassment had just lowered the temperature in the room. I felt a little sick and wondered if maybe I was coming down with something.

Sam touched my shoulder gently. “You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to, Georgia,” he said.

His eyes were so blue. They reminded me of these pretty glass mineral-water bottles that Grandma Dotty likes to buy at garage sales. I imagined light shining through his eyes, the way they shine through the bottles when Grandma puts them on the windowsill. Suddenly, the cold that had settled over me dropped away.

It felt good to know that Sam would understand if I didn’t want to embarrass myself out on the dance floor. But there was only one problem….

“I do want to dance,” I said. I really, really did.

I mean, this was my moment!

I was at my first middle-school dance!

A sweet, cute boy wanted to dance with me!

It’s not like this was happening every weekend.

Sam smiled. “Good. Because you already promised you would dance with me.”

We stepped out onto the floor just as the music stopped. A slow song started.

Sam put his arms at my waist, and I thought for sure that I might faint. Instead, I rested my head on his shoulder. Dancing wasn’t hard at all—I just shuffled back and forth. Maybe it was just the scent of Missy’s shampoo mixed with the disco ball lighting that affected my brain, but I felt like I was in a happy, beautiful dream.

I never wanted it to end.

But, of course, three minutes later it did.