Josh walked over to her, and I followed him. “Hey,” he said. “How are you guys doing?”

“Wonderful as always,” Elise replied.

I didn’t mean to end up standing next to Logan, but somehow it happened. He looked me over with a smirk I couldn’t interpret.

I wanted to talk to him, but not in front of this group. I listened to Elise, Josh, and Tyson talk for a minute. When I was sure no one was watching Logan or me, I glanced over at him. The moment I did, he returned my gaze. I leaned closer to him and whispered, “I won our bet, you know.”

“Congratulations.”

“I’m free next Saturday night.”

“All right. I’ll pick you up at six.”

I smiled and turned back to the rest of the group. I should have felt a little bit guilty about arranging one date in the middle of another, but I didn’t. I just looked attentively over at everybody and pretended to follow the conversation.

Logan leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you mean?”

Still whispering, he said, “I thought you had a bunch of backlogged insults to tell me.”

“Oh, yeah.” I thought for a moment and then said, “Rap music is awful, Freud was weird, and Doug Campton needs to grow up.”

“What about me?”

“You’re annoying.”

“That’s it? That’s your backlog? After two whole weeks?”

“I’m just not a cynical or critical person.” I only blushed slightly as I told him this.

“Even Josh said so.”

And this was the point that Josh decided to tune into our conversation.

“What did I say?” he asked.

I didn’t want to repeat any part of the conversation, so I just pretended I had no idea what he was talking about. I gave him a slightly confused look. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘What did I say?’ ’’Josh answered.

I blinked at him a couple of times. “I give up. What did you say?"

I could tell Josh was weighing whether or not it was worth trying to clarify things when Elise chimed in. “I know what you said. When we were back home, you said you’d save me a dance.” She held out her hand to him. “They just started one I like. Let’s go.”

Josh turned to me apologetically. “I did promise her that. I’ll be back in a bit,” and then he walked onto the dance floor with Elise. She called over her shoulder to Tyson, “You can dance with someone else for a minute—why don’t you ask Cassidy?”

Cassidy’s eyes widened, but Tyson didn’t seem the least bit put out by Elise’s request.

He just held out his arm to Cassidy and said, “Shall we?”

Cassidy shot Logan a look to see if he would protest; but when he didn’t, she took Tyson’s arm, and they walked to the dance floor.

For a moment neither Logan nor I said anything, and then he tilted his head at me. “I guess that leaves us. Do you want to dance?”

I held out my hand in reply. He took it in his, and we walked down to the dance floor.

I was holding hands with Logan at the prom. How odd. Surreal was the term Mrs. Mortenson would have used. Surreal and . . . , but then I couldn’t think of another word that quite fit.

English 315 had failed me.

Before I could get any ideas I shouldn’t have, I reminded myself that Logan didn’t really want to be with me. He wanted to be dancing with Cassidy. Just like Josh.

Logan led me to the back of the crowd and then took me loosely in his arms. I caught whiffs of his aftershave and could feel his shoulder muscles through his tux. I suddenly found it hard not to get ideas, so I glanced around the room so I didn’t have to look at him.

Elise and Josh were dancing not far away. They moved across the floor, talking in a casual sort of way; and I wondered if he would pay attention to his sister, or whether any moment now his Cassidy-tracking radar would kick in and he’d ignore Elise too.

Logan put his hand on my back, and we danced slowly in rhythm to the music. I had the urge to lean in close to Logan’s neck and breathe in more of his aftershave, but I didn’t.

Instead, I watched Josh over Logan’s shoulder.

Had I been expecting too much tonight? All I had wanted was a nice romantic evening. I’d looked forward to this night for years. I’d bought a dress, wrangled a last -minute date, decorated the room, and done my hair—all so I could have one night of romance.

*Instead, I was watching my date watch someone else, and I was having thoughts about a guy whose main goal for the last two weeks was to force me into a date with another guy so he could go out with another girl. It was horrible.

Logan held me a little away from him so we could talk. “So, are you having a good time tonight?”

*I glanced over at Josh again. “What is it with men anyway?"

“I guess that means no.”

I shook my head because I didn’t want to explain. “I’ve come to the conclusion that any guy under twenty-one is terminally immature.”

*He winced. “Harsh. Exactly what did Josh do?”

“It’s not what he did. It’s just t h at . . . ” I tilted my head up at Logan. “It’s prom night—girls look forward to it. You’re a guy. Tell me, why is it guys can’t be ro mantic?”

“Ahh,” Logan nodded knowingly. “I see. Josh didn’t lavish you with enough compliments.”

I almost said, He hasn’t paid attention to me long enough to come up with a compliment.

“I don’t know why I asked you. You couldn’t say something romantic if your life depended on it.”

He grinned at me. “Sure I could.”

“Prove it.”

He glanced up for a moment, as though he were consulting the stars—or in this case the twinkle lights—then stared into my eyes. “You look beautiful.”

“See what I mean? That isn’t romantic. My mother told me the exact same thing tonight. If a mother could say it, then it doesn’t count as being romantic.”

“All right, I’ll be more specific.” Logan leaned closer to me, holding me tighter, and spoke softly into my ear. “Samantha, you look so beautiful tonight that when I came in and saw you across the room, I was glad I’d lost our bet.”

I have to admit, my heart stopped beating for several seconds.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “That was good, but it was probably just a fluke.”

He shook his head. “What is it with girls and romance anyway?”

“If you need to ask,” I said, still a bit breathless, “you wouldn’t understand.”

He held me a little looser. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his brows came together.

“What I want to know is this: What’s wrong with being a normal sweatshirt-wearing type of guy? Girls always want some mysterious stranger who’ll sweep them off their feet.”

“Mysterious and stranger are optional,” I said, “but sweeping is mandatory.”

“You see, that’s just my point. You don’t want a guy with personality or substance; you just want someone who dances well and has dreamy eyes.”

“You dance well.” I cocked my head at him. “You have dreamy eyes too—and I could even say there are several things I find mysterious about you, like, for example , why you enjoy working on car remains. So maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to categorize yourself as one of the guys with substance. . . .”

It was then I noticed Tyson and Cassidy approach Elise and Josh. Tyson cut in, taking Elise back as his partner and leaving Josh to dance with Cassidy.

Cassidy stood on the dance floor for a moment, unmoving and blushing bright pink, but Josh seemed at ease. He smiled down at her. Then he took one of her hands in his, pulled her into slow-dance position, and they began swaying back and forth.

For once Josh paid complete attention to his partner. Logan noticed me staring and looked over to where Josh and Cassidy were dancing.

“They switched partners,” I said. “I wonder if Elise and Josh planned that all along.”

Logan grinned as though it didn’t matter to him. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“And you don’t mind?”

He shrugged. “How can I mind if Josh dances with my date? After all, I’m dancing with his.”