"I never thought I'd see Dylan Parker wearing something other than a t-shirt," I tease him. He pulls off his outfit so well that I'm actually mad at how great he looks. "Wait until you see me without a t-shirt," he says, winking. "But I'll take that as a compliment, since I know your pride won't let you actually compliment me." An image of Dylan without a shirt flashes in my mind, and I immediately shove it out. That's something I don't need to visualize right now. Instead I focus on his look now and I appreciate how he still looks like himself. A few slight curls in his hair fall on his forehead, leading me to his light green eyes. "How's Anthony as a homecoming date?" he asks me. "Anthony is a perfect gentleman with some not-so-smooth dance moves. Just don't tell him," I laugh. "You should see his dancing when he's drinking." "What about you? Are you a good or bad dancer when you drink?" He tilts his head and grins. "What's your obsession with me and my dancing?" I shrug. "I'm only curious. I can't pinpoint you." I've had to gather information about him from others. He's a private person, but I find myself wanting to know more about him. I want him to let me in. "Pinpoint me?" "Yeah, like I can usually figure certain things out about people, but with you I can't. You're a tough cookie to break." His body moves closer to mine as he speaks, making my heart race. "Maybe that's a good thing." "That sounds ominous," I say slowly. "Do you have any dirty secrets that you're hiding?" A quilt-maker perhaps? "I might have a few skeletons in my closet." Dylan could be hiding something, but I don't know what. What could be worth hiding in his life? Casey and Carlos plop back down in their seats and are practically sweating from dancing. Anthony sits down also and we all talk about school and more school until it reaches about ten-thirty. Anthony gets strangely quiet after a while and I put my hand on his shoulder. "You okay?" I ask him. "Those cookies might've fucked me up," he clutches his stomach. "I'll be right back." He stands up quickly and speed walks towards the restrooms. Carlos and Dylan crack up at him. "I don't think we'll see him for another hour if it's that bad," Carlos says. I watch Carlos and Dylan talk and everything seems to be fine between them. There doesn't seem to be any bad blood. After the Homecoming king and queen are announced, a slow song plays for them. Once they get a bit of a dance in all the couples flood the dancefloor. Carlos and Casey look at each other before Carlos grabs her hand and they take off to the dancefloor again. They stay at the edge of the crowd. I watch them carefully. I wonder if they're starting to like each other a little more than friends. They go along with whatever the other wants to do. It's actually kind of cute. "Do you think Carlos likes Casey?" I ask Dylan, wanting to get some kind of insight. He puts his hand on his chin and studies them also. "Hard to say." Carlos' hands are on her waist while hers are hanging loose around his neck. He says saying something to her and she smiles, nodding along. I find myself envying her. Last year, I thought I was going to homecoming with Jacob. Instead I'm watching my best friend dance with her date while I'm sitting on the sideline. If Anthony weren't in the bathroom, I'd ask him to dance. "You don't look like you're having fun now," Dylan comments. I stop myself from sighing. "I am," I assure him. "It's just...a lot of things have changed since last year." Too many things have changed. It's like my life completely shifted by one hundred and eighty degrees. Dylan gazes off into the distance for a few moments. Then he shifts his body towards me and inhales loudly. "Okay, listen up. I know you like shit like homecoming, and by the looks of it this night has turned to shit because you keep thinking about your douchebag ex. I'm not going to let you sit and mope over that dickhead who isn't even here. I told you I'd help you get over him and I'd like to think I'm a man of my word. So," he says, holding out his hand to me. "Do you want to dance?" There are butterflies in my stomach and I can't say anything. It's such a nice gesture, especially by him, that I've been rendered speechless. So I nod. We awkwardly walk over to the dancefloor just as another slow song starts. I've been curious about Dylan's dancing, but I didn't think I would eventually dance with him. We pause in front of each other and suddenly it's like everything I know about dancing is gone from my mind. "I thought you were the dancer of the group," he jokes, relieving some of the awkwardness. He takes my hands and puts them around his neck before putting his on my waist. "Like this, right?" "Right," I say smiling and easing into it. We begin to sway back and forth before picking up our pace a bit and he spins me around. His rhythm isn't bad at all and I suspect that he knows how to dance better than Carlos. "I think I've discovered one of your secrets," I tell him. A grin appears on his face. "What's that?" "You know how to dance very well." "Maybe that's one of my many talents you have yet to learn about." His voice is teasing, but don't think he's entirely joking. What other talents is he capable of? It hits me that I finally got him to dance and I bite my lip to stop myself from smiling. I find myself leaning my head on his shoulder, feeling like it's the most natural thing in the world and I'm glad he lets it happen. The butterflies are back and I don't do anything to cause them to scatter. Dancing with Dylan is different than dancing with Jacob. Jacob is clumsy and doesn't quite know how to work his feet. Dylan, on the other hand, knows exactly what he's doing. It's crazy how Dylan swept into my life and managed to turn things around, and for the better. I didn't expect for things to move so fast in our friendship, but it feels...right? It scares me, but I try not to dive into those thoughts. I focus on the positive for now. "Can I tell you something?" I ask him before I can change my mind. "Hmm?" "I'm glad you're here." He chuckles. "The guys are pretty good at putting peer pressure on me." I pick my head up so I can look at him. "No, I mean like here in my life right now. I'm glad we've become friends." His lips curve at the ends and I know he's trying to stop the smile from spreading across his face, but it peeks through. "Me too, Lace," he says finally.