All of a sudden, I was back in front of the double doors again.

Devon Morgan—sorry, Freddie—was being pulled away by the friend, and the unfamiliar song was just starting again.

“What’s up, what’s up, North Point High! Happy homecoming! Now who is ready to party?!” the DJ bellowed into his mic—again.

The whole gym cheered—again.

“Oh god,” I breathed, my heart racing. What was happening?

“That’s what I like to hear!” the DJ yelled. “Now I want to see everyone out on the dance floor!”

Someone grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the center of the dance floor.

“No, I really don’t—” I started.

Where are you going lookin’ like that?!

The song had started again, and all around me, everyone began—once more—to dance, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony.

Stunned into stillness, I stopped moving completely, looking around in horror.

“CUT!” the voice came again.

I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, I was back at the double doors. Freddie was being pulled away by Random Jock #3.

“Hey, Freddie! Ms. Dawson wants to talk to you. Come on!”

“What’s up, what’s up, North Point High! Happy homecoming! Now who is ready to party?!” the DJ bellowed into his mic.

The whole gym cheered in answer.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

“That’s what I like to hear! Now I want to see everyone out on the dance floor!”

The hand on my wrist, Where are you going lookin’ like that?! and everyone began to dance.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I didn’t know any of the steps. I was stuck in this baffling time loop, and I didn’t know how in the world I was going to get out of it. What was I supposed to do?

“CUT!” The voice sounded angrier this time.

Three more rounds of this.

“What’s up, what’s up, North Point High! Everyone on the dance floor!” Hand around my wrist, Where are you going lookin’ like that?! CUT!

My mind was spinning so fast it was hard to catch a thought long enough to think it through, but I finally thought I got it. I needed to do the dance. While I didn’t know exactly what was happening, I was almost sure I was going to have to make it through the choreography if I was going to make it out of the loop.

“What’s up, what’s up, North Point High!” Hand on wrist, Where are you going lookin’ like that?! CUT!

Four more times.

Four. More. Times.

When the fifth go-round began, I figured I’d seen the dance steps enough times that I’d be able to struggle through. I felt awkward as hell as I tottered along in my silver heels, but this time when that random girl (maybe credited as Random Girl #9?) pulled me out onto the dance floor, I tried to keep up with the other dancers. I looked at the glasses guy closely, and by following him, I was able to make it to the end of the song without anyone yelling CUT!

The song finally ended with a twang, and the crowd dispersed, laughing and high-fiving, no one giving any indication they had just performed the same dance almost ten times in a row.

I—on the other hand—was completely winded as I stepped away from the dance floor. I didn’t usually do this much physical activity if I could help it, and I could usually help it.

Making it to the edge of the gym again, I looked around for the hundredth time, trying to wrap my head around what could possibly be going on. It felt like a film set, but I hadn’t seen a single camera or can light, no craft services or PAs running around with walkie-talkies. Nothing that would signify it actually was one. There was just that weird, loud voice yelling for the scene to be cut. Other than that, it seemed to be real.

But…that wasn’t possible. There was nothing real about the way all those dancers froze when the voice yelled cut. They hadn’t moved a muscle. I’d watched them—several times. They hadn’t even been blinking. By everything my eyes were telling me, this was She Hasn’t Been Kissed. This was the actual movie. Not, like, the movie’s set. This was the movie.

But that was insane. There was nothing rational about that explanation. It just wasn’t possible. For me to be in a movie—sounded like a movie.

I thought hard. I’d been chasing after Professor Ramsey. Maybe I’d fallen down going after him, and I was lying unconscious somewhere. Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe I was going to wake up on the floor of my actual high school—Riverside High—surrounded by anxious faces making sure I was okay.

I pinched my arm again, hard enough that I hissed with pain, but nothing else happened. I was still standing in the gym, watching a bunch of people I knew had to be actors, playing their parts as if it was their real life.

The music was still blaring through the speakers, but a high-pitched squeal suddenly cut through it:

“O-M-G! LANA! You look ah-mazing!”

I looked over as two girls ran toward me, hands waving in apparent delight. When they drew close to me, they each kissed the air near my cheeks, then started to babble at a pitch I’d previously thought only dogs could hear.

I couldn’t remember the names of their characters from the movie, but I thought I remembered that they were the evil minions of the Queen Bee Bully from the movie.

“You look incredible, Lana!” one cried, her dark eyes wide. She was the shorter of the two and had black hair and dark brown skin.

The other girl—taller and white with long red hair—gestured to her own dress. “Omg, Lana, I am so glad we bought our dresses together so we wouldn’t clash! Can you even imagine?”

I couldn’t. I stared at them for a moment. I had no idea what to say, but finally I managed, “Um, thanks, I guess.”

I tried to step away, but the tall girl grabbed my wrist, preventing me from moving. She turned to the shorter girl. “Emma! Did you even tell Lana what you heard Freddie say?”

Okay, dark haired girl was Emma. Good to know.

Emma shook her head, making her curls bounce. “Of course not, Hayley. I just got here, too, but I was just about to tell her.”

Redhead was Hayley. Emma and Hayley. I could remember that. Easy.

“Well, tell her now!” Hayley insisted.

Emma leaned conspiratorially toward me. “I heard Freddie say that he wishes you had never broken up with him and that he just wants to win you back!”

Both girls stared at me, waiting for a response, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t care what Emma had overheard or what Freddie had said. The only thing I cared about was finding a way out of this gym, out of this stupid dress, and out of what had to have been the world’s most uncomfortable shoes. I just wanted to be home—but at this point I would’ve taken any place that I recognized.

The music stopped suddenly, and Emma and Hayley stepped toward me, flanking me on either side. Their eyes went wide, and Hayley sucked in a theatrical breath.

“It’s happening!” she said with a gasp.

I looked over at her. “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

Hayley smiled and pointed to the stage, and when I turned to look, an older woman walked onstage, wearing the kind of trim, navy blue skirt suit school administrators always wore in movies. Based on her outfit, I figured she was a teacher or the principal, but I didn’t recognize her. Of course not. Why would I?

She was holding a microphone and spoke into it. “Is everyone here excited about the Fighting Devils homecoming?”

The crowd of students cheered loudly in response.

She smiled at the crowd. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, I know you’re impatient, so I’m not going to make you wait anymore! Let’s get right into it!”

More cheering.

“You have all had a chance to vote, and we have tallied the votes. This year’s North Point homecoming king is none other than FREDDIE THOMAS!”

Emma and Hayley both gasped with shocked delight.

A spotlight shone suddenly into the cheering, jumping crowd, finally finding Freddie, who was standing with his friends. They yelled and slapped his back as he started toward the stage, a charmingly embarrassed grin on his face, as though this was the last thing he ever expected.

“But wait, there’s more!” the woman on stage went on. “Do you think you can have a king without a queen?”

“Nooo!” the crowd bellowed.

She smiled indulgently. “Of course not. And it will be no surprise to any of you that our homecoming queen is none other than LANA PAULSON!”