Josh took a sip of water from his glass, but then instead of picking up his fork again, he smiled over at me. “You’ve really changed since last year.”

“Oh?” This was the part where he would tell me he’d been a fool, that he should have dated me instead of Cassidy—that I wasn’t second-best.

“Last year . . ." He shrugged, as though he wasn’t sure how to explain. “You were so cynical.”

“Cynical?”

“You were always criticizing everyone.”

I stared at him, a terrible lump forming in my stomach.

He must have thought my staring meant I didn’t understand him. “I mean, I’m glad you’ve changed, because being around critical people always makes me nervous. I figure it will only be a matter of time before they start criticizing me.”

I wanted to tell him, You can stop elaborating now. I get it. You thought I insulted people. You probably thought I couldn’t go two weeks without insulting someone.

Logan had been right about me. Oh, that hurt.

So I wouldn’t have to say anything for a moment, I took another bite of my dinner. I tried to console myself with the resolve that I would change. From now on, I’d be a kinder, gentler Samantha. I hadn’t insulted anyone for over two weeks, and I could continue my streak. Then the compliment Josh had paid me would be true. I wanted it to be true.

I smiled back at Josh. “I wouldn’t think you’d have to worry about anyone being critical of you. I mean, what’s to criticize?”

He laughed and said, “You obviously haven’t spent a lot of time talking to Elise about me, have you?”

“Nope.”

He picked up his fork, but then paused. “You guys didn’t really get along last year. I could never figure out why that was.”

The old me would have volunteered several reasons, starting with the fact that I’d heard Elise, on more than one occasion, call me “her royal blondness,” but the new me refrained. I smiled and shrugged like I too thought it was a mystery.

After dinner we drove to the high school for the Cinderella-like portion of the evening. As we went up the school steps I just knew magic awaited us on the dance floor.

Josh would hold me close, look into my eyes, and everything would be perfect.

As we walked into the lobby, music filled the air and I could smell the soft scent of rose petals all around me. Actually, the prom committee had bought a dozen Springtime Bouquet air fresheners and placed them around the room. However the effect was the same—I breathed in the sweet smell of romance.

I took Josh’s arm as we walked toward the dance floor. I had arrived at the ball.

It felt strange to dance to rock music in a formal dress. I almost felt like we should waltz or something; but no one else seemed to feel uneasy, and so after a few minutes I didn’t either.

Usually when I dance with a guy, he looks at me. Josh kept peering around the room.

Probably taking a trip down memory lane. The next song came on, and he still kept glancing around every few seconds. Probably appreciating all the work I’d put into the decorations.

Or maybe he was searching for someone.

I got my answer when Cassidy and Logan walked into the room. Josh’s gaze went to her—and stayed there for several moments.

True, she did look pretty. She wore a flowing baby-blue dress, and her hair was piled on the top of her head with little pink roses tucked in here and there. Sophisticated and innocent. Even Chelsea would be impressed.

Josh was probably only staring at her because she looked so different than she usually did. In a moment his attention would return to me. Certainly.

In the meantime, I stole a glance at Logan. Standing there in his tux, he looked taller, older, handsome. He took Cassidy’s arm, smiled down at her, and led her to the dance floor.

The song ended, and a slow one followed. Josh gently pulled me into his arms. I had been awaiting this moment, but somehow it didn’t make me feel tingly. It just made me feel like we were now in slow-dance position. I kept wondering if he was watching Cassidy over my shoulder.

I tried to change the subject, even though we hadn’t been talking. “I don’t suppose the school is much different than it was when you were here last year.”

“No, not unless the twinkle lights are a permanent addition.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my twinkle lights. I stood on a ladder for two hours this morning putting those things up.”

He chuckled. “You did a good job with the decorations. You’re very dedicated.

You’ll make a good president.”

“You really think that?”

“Sure.”

“Elise and Cassidy are campaigning for Amy Stock.” I’m not sure why I said this. I suppose I wanted him to know the truth about Cassidy and to stop staring wistfully at her.

Instead, he immediately turned and looked at her again. “Really? Why?”

I wanted to say, Because she isn’t my friend. Because she’s vindictive and mean.

Instead, I shrugged. “I guess it’s just one of those things.”

My friends would truly be disappointed at how far my scathing commentaries had sunk.

Josh squeezed my hand lightly, sympathetically. “I’d vote for you if I could.”

“Thanks.” I felt a little better.

At least I felt a little better until the next time he glanced over at Cassidy. And the next time after that. And the time after that.

By the time we’d danced through a couple more songs, my jaw was clenched so tight I probably looked like the prom version of the nutcracker.

Prince Charming, I was sure, never looked at someone else while he was dancing with Cinderella. I thought back to our conversation at the restaurant. “What could anyone criticize you for, Josh?” I’d asked.

Suddenly the answer to that question was becoming very clear.

What was it with him? Was Cassidy so bewitching, or was I just so uninteresting?

Instead of proving I was no longer second-best, he was positively confirming it. I was torn between wanting to fight for his attention and wanting to kick him in the shins.

When the next song ended, I said, “I’m a little thirsty. Do you want to go get a drink?”

“Sure.” We strolled over to the refreshment table together; but he didn’t take my hand, and I didn’t take his. We picked up a couple of sodas and some heart-shaped sugar cookies, then headed up to the landing, where rows of tables and chairs waited. The music didn’t seem so loud here, but we could still see everybody on the dance floor.

I sunk down into a chair, and Josh sat down beside me. He took a slow drink of soda. I broke my heart cookie in two. Mrs. Mortenson, my English teacher, would have found that quite a symbolic thing to do. She had been lecturing us lately about symbolism and was such an expert on the matter that I’m sure she could have found meaningful symbolism in the ingredients list of a box of crackers.

I nibbled on one end of the cookie. Also symbolic. Eat your heart out.

And then I laughed a little. Usually I couldn’t keep my mind off guys during English class. Now, here I was on a date thinking of literary terminology. What a good example of situational irony.

Josh looked over at me questioningly, but I didn’t explain myself. If he wanted me to share my thoughts, then he could at least pay attention to me for two consecutive minutes.

After a few moments of silence he said, “So how are the sports teams doing this year?”

“About the same. We win some; we lose some.”

He nodded. “That’s good.” Then he glanced over at Cassidy again.

I had to quell the urge to say, “If you want to rest your eyes for a while, I’ll take a turn staring at her.”

We finished eating the rest of our cookies in silence; then because he probably couldn’t think of any more small talk, he said, “Do you want to dance some more?”

“Sure.”

We both got up and walked toward the dance floor. Elise, Tyson, Cassidy, and Logan stood together at the edge of the floor talking, and as we walked near them Elise waved at us to come over.