PARTY DOWN

The good news was, I had a whole weekend to recover from that mega-practice. Not only that, but Quinn’s team party was Saturday night. There were going to be hot dogs and soda, movies in the basement, and a huge ice cream cake in the shape of a football.

At least, that’s what I told Mom, because that’s what Quinn told me.

I went with Flip. When we got to Quinn’s house, I could hear music coming from the basement, but the whole upstairs seemed kind of empty. I didn’t see his mom and dad anywhere.

“Come on down,” Quinn said. “Everyone’s here.”

“Where are your parents?” I asked him.

“Exactly,” he said.

Which started to tell me what kind of party this actually was.

I’d never been to a real middle school party before. Not unless you count that one lame dance at summer camp—and you shouldn’t. So I was actually kind of nervous and excited on my way down those stairs.

Well, more nervous than excited.

Okay… just nervous.

In the basement, there weren’t too many lights on. The music was up loud and a bunch of people were dancing in a big clump. I saw some guy-shaped shadows and some girl-shaped shadows, but it was too dark to tell who anyone was.

Quinn told us there were some chips and stuff, so we went for those first. He even had a bunch of cold Zoom, which is my favorite drink.

“Hey, Flip,” I said, “you want some of this?” But when I turned around, there was just an empty space where Flip used to be. You know how good he is at keeping still, right? He was already out there dancing with everyone, like there was nothing to it.

The thing is, I’m about as good at dancing as I am at talking to girls. One-legged ostriches have better dance moves than I have.

Which left me standing by the chip bowl on my own, like a giant flashing LOSER sign.