The principal announces that this next song is a throwback the chaperones will appreciate, then the opening chords of Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time begin to play.
I really don’t want to dance with Anderson, but he’s my prince, so I have to. As I settle my hands on his shoulders, it’s Hunter I’m thinking about, so my gaze drifts in his direction.
He’s looking at me, too. More specifically, he’s looking at Anderson’s hands on me, his eyes narrowed with dislike.
I feel the same way seeing Valerie’s arms draped around his neck.
Anderson and I are dancing like two people reluctant to touch, but of course Valerie is pressed as close to Hunter as she can be, gazing up at him affectionately even as he looks at another girl. I almost admire her ability to be so deliberately obtuse.
I do not possess the same ability, so I look away from them.
I’m too jealous to watch. It makes my skin crawl.
This sucks. Everything about this sucks.
It only sucks for a few more seconds, though.
The homecoming king and queen dance closer to us. I frown when I realize it. During this dance, we are the only three couples on the dance floor, so there’s plenty of room to spread out.
I barely have time to register Hunter and Valerie right next to us, then, in an unprecedented move, Hunter asks Anderson, “Wanna trade?”
“What?” Anderson asks, as if confused.
“What!” Valerie hisses, horrified.
Hunter nods from Valerie to me. “Let’s switch.”
“Hunter,” Valerie complains, shooting him a look. “No! This is our dance. You can dance with her after.”
Hunter locks eyes with me. “Nah. I wanna dance with her now.”
“You cannot be serious,” Valerie says, her voice low and angry. “You are not really going to humiliate me like this.”
“Don’t make a scene and you won’t be humiliated,” he says, glancing at her. “Either way, I’m dancing with Riley.” He looks at Anderson, his gaze cool. “You got a problem with that?”
Anderson scoffs, shaking his head and backing away from me. “You know what, go right ahead.”
“Anderson!” Valerie cries, looking at him like even he has let her down.
Like Anderson can stop Hunter from doing exactly what he wants to do.
No one asks me what I want, but I certainly don’t argue as Anderson grabs Valerie and drags her away, practically kicking and screaming.
Hunter smiles, grabbing my waist and tugging me close to him.
I cock my head, a reluctant smile on my lips as I wind my arms around his neck. “That wasn’t very nice.”
I feel the movement of his muscles as he shrugs. “I’m not very nice.”
“That’s not true,” I argue, gazing up at him. “You’re nice sometimes.”
“You’re the only person I care about being nice to.”
My heart flutters.
When I was dancing with Anderson I was so aware of all the people watching us, but in Hunter’s arms, the rest of the world falls away.
“Well, I’m glad you cut in,” I admit.
“Yeah?”
I nod.
“How come?”
My gaze lingers on those perfect lips of his, but I go for a lighthearted response so he doesn’t think I’m thinking about kissing him. “I’ve always wanted to dance with a king,” I tease.
Hunter grins. “Oh yeah?”
I nod again. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“It can be our little secret,” he assures me.
It’s so easy to get pulled back into him. I sigh, enjoying the feeling of being held by him so much more than I should.
It’s getting harder and harder to pretend I don’t want him. All I really want is to rewind these last few weeks. To stop him from doing stupid things to ruin our chances.
I suppose there’s another option. I could just give in.
But I won’t.
He doesn’t get to hurt me with her and then have me, anyway.
If Hunter wants me, he needs to fix the unfixable. An impossible feat.
“What are you thinking?”
I look up at him. I’m tempted to tell the truth, but before I can answer, I’m distracted by the sight of Valerie running across the dance floor in a red blur behind him.
I frown, watching her rush into the crowd to our right. I can’t tell what she’s saying as she shakes her head, but she shoves urgently at someone in the crowd and glances behind her.
Glancing at Hunter, to make sure he didn’t see.
I look past her at the people she’s pushing through the crowd. They’re turned around so I can’t tell who they are, but they’re dressed in black—not formalwear—and carrying something. It almost looks like a big white paint bucket, the five gallon kind.
I watch, my frown deepening, as she pushes them through the crowd, trying to rush them off the floor. By the looks of it, before Hunter notices.
“Hey.”
I glance back at Hunter. Now he’s frowning, too.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Did you see that?” I ask, even though I know he didn’t. Valerie ran behind him, and his back was to the crowd. “She just…”