“I don’t really feel like dancing to this song,” she said into my ear. “That’s cool,” I said. “How about the next one?” “I just don’t feel like dancing right now.” It was a lie. I’d seen her dancing earlier when I came in. “You danced with Hugh,” I pointed out. She seemed annoyed. “So? You think you’re better than Hugh?” “No,” I said, confused. I didn’t understand why she was being this way. I felt my face heat up, and was glad she wouldn’t see it in the half-light of the hall. “Are you mad at me?” I asked, which I instantly knew was a mistake. It wasn’t a dominant male question. “No. Why don’t you ask Selena to dance. She loves dancing.” “I don’t want to dance with Selena. I want to dance with you.” The next song had just started up, and it was really good. I smiled and tried to take her hand. “C’mon!” She frowned and pulled away. “I’m not your chimp, Ben. You can’t just order me around. Or tie me up.” She looked past me and smiled and waved.
