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brilliant plan, but not sure exactly what to do. I mean, I’ve never done this before. And also, you know, it’s awkward. Clarice made it look easy, yeah, but she didn’t have to contend with OTHER GIRLS. I’m about to say forget it and just take the chance that my notebook is going to get passed around the school (humiliation that takes place in the future might be better than real, right-now, immediate humiliation) when I catch Cooper’s eye across the room, and even though he’s kind of far away and it’s totally possible that I might be imagining it, I swear to God I see him smirk.
    He smirks! At me! Well, more at the situation, like he doesn’t think I can do it.
    And so, before I can stop myself, I turn around and take a few steps until I’m standing in front of the table where my target is sitting.
    “Hello,” I say, plastering a huge smile on my face. But the music is pretty loud, and so they don’t hear me. Either that, or they’re just ignoring me. Which is a very real possibility. “Hello!” I say again, louder this time. One of the girls looks up at me.
    “Hi,” she says. She looks me up and down, then rolls her eyes and goes back to talking to the guy I’m supposed to be asking to dance. Okaaaay.
    “Hey!” I try again, pretty much screaming now.
    “Yeah?” the girl says. What is her problem? Doesn’t she know that it is extremely obvious that I am not talking to her? Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it isn’t.
    “Not you,” I say, forcing my smile to grow even bigger. Might as well be friendly. Don’t want to start any weird competition thing, since, you know, it probably won’t work out in my favor. The girl looks me up and down again, frowns, and then goes back to sipping her drink.
    I look over my shoulder to where Marissa was sitting, but there are so many people here now that I can’t see through the crowd. I’m about to scream again, when the guy I’m supposed to be asking to dance finally notices me standing there. He breaks out into a big smile, and my heart leaps up into my chest. He’s smiling! Does that mean maybe he thinks I’m cute? I try to very covertly yank my shirt down a little to show some more cleavage.
    “Hi,” he says. I can’t hear his voice that well over the music, but I think it might sound sexy. I swallow hard.
    “Hi,” I say. He’s still smiling, and I start to feel a little more optimistic. He wouldn’t be smiling if he thought I was completely gross, would he? Take that, blond suntan girls! And take that, 318s! This is going to be easier than I thought! Maybe he’ll even become my boyfriend. Wouldn’t that beawesome? Meeting the love of my life when I’m on this crazy—
    “We’ll have another round,” he says, motioning to the table.
    “Another what?” I ask, frowning. And then I get it. Oh. My. God. He thinks I’m a waitress! He is ordering drinks from me, like I am some kind of paid employee of THE CLUB, when I am supposed to be asking him TO DANCE.
    “Another round,” he says, slowly this time. Now he’s looking at me like I might be slow.
    “I’m not a waitress,” I say. “Um, I came over here to ask you to dance.”
    The girl sitting with him snorts, like she can’t believe how dumb that is. Her friend giggles, and
his
friend has the wherewithal to look embarrassed and study the bottom of his glass, where all that’s left is some melted ice.
    But to my surprise, the guy shrugs and then says, “Sure.” Before I even realize what’s going on, he’s moving Blond Suntan Girl Number One over and getting out of the booth.
    And then he’s standing, taking my hand, and leading me through the crowd, right past Cooper Marriatti and onto the dance floor.
    So, the thing is, I don’t really know how to dance. Like, my experience with dancing is kind of … limited. And when I say
limited
, I mean, you know, nonexistent.
    “My name’s Rich,” the guy says as he leans into me.
    “I’m Eliza,” I say back. But he