When the roving spotlight found me in the crowd, it shone onto me, bright as the freaking sun. Blinking, I stared into it, transfixed as a deer in headlights. The shock of it—hearing my name and then the light—had frozen me in place. I wanted to move—my brain was screaming at me to do something, but it felt like my brain was no longer connected to my feet.

Finally, someone gave me a light shove from behind. I heard a nervous twitter of laughter, so I figured it was probably Emma or Hayley. The strappy silver heels on my feet kept surprising me, and I stumbled a bit before I got my feet underneath me again and straightened.

All around me, kids were cheering and clapping. The whole thing was strange—an experience I’d never had before. I’d never even been to a high school dance, never mind being crowned homecoming queen. I’d never even seen this tradition in any context except movies. I had no idea if Riverside High actually had a homecoming dance.

But as strange as it was, and as awkward as I felt, at least it was better than the choreographed dance number. This time I knew what came next. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew I was going to have to—I had to go up onto the stage.

My pink nightmare of a dress was so short the thought of standing above people in it made me sweat, but I had no choice—I tugged the dress down, took a deep breath, and started forward, taking slow, careful steps so I wouldn’t trip. Walking so slowly, it felt like I was never going to make it, but I finally reached the stage and walked up the stairs.

Freddie was already onstage. The lights from the stage made his eyes sparkle like diamonds, and he watched me as I drew near, the crown on his head. The weight of it flattened his golden mop of hair to his forehead, and when I got close enough, I saw that it looked cheap—probably just plastic with a thin metal coating.

The older woman in the navy suit was waiting for me, holding a golden tiara in her hands. She smiled as I drew near and nodded encouragingly.

I ducked my head slightly so she could put the crown on my head.

Fine, I did it. I was crowned. Now this could be over, and I could go back to crafting my escape plan.

But then the woman shoved the microphone into my hand.

I looked down at the microphone, then up at the teacher, baffled. Why the hell had she just given me this? I didn’t have to say anything, did I?

Trying to smile, I shook my head and pushed the microphone back into the teacher’s hands. “It’s really fine,” I said, trying to sound gracious. “I don’t need to say anything.”

I stepped quickly back toward the stairs with every intention of hurrying down them and disappearing back into the crowd. That is, until I heard—

“CUT!”

It was that same voice from earlier, and—just like before—everyone went still as statues.

My heart sank, but there was nothing to be done, and suddenly I was standing in front of the teacher again. The woman was holding a golden tiara in her hands and looking down at me expectantly.

Crap.

So there was no getting around it—on top of absolutely everything else, I was going to have to make a speech.

I hadn’t moved, so when the woman cleared her throat, I ducked down again and let her place the crown on my head. As she did, I tried to run through every high school movie I’d ever seen and figure out what the hell these kinds of speeches were supposed to sound like.

Why hadn’t I paid more attention to this movie when Catie made me watch it? My incessant movie watching would finally have come in handy.

The teacher pressed the mic into my hands, then moved out of the way, giving me more space in case I wanted to pace around like I was giving a TED Talk.

When I glanced over at Freddie, he gave me an encouraging nod and gestured for me to speak.

There was no getting out of this.

I brought the mic up to my mouth, which felt dry as the Sahara Desert. I had no idea what to say, but I didn’t want to hear that voice yelling cut again, so I thought fast. As I scanned the crowd looking expectantly up at me, I happened to spot one of the school banners hanging on the wall. This one had the school mascot’s name and picture on it, and I took a shot in the dark…

“Go Devils!”

This did it. The crowd went wild.

I let a out breath and shoved the mic back into the teacher’s hands, relieved it was finally over. I was just headed for the stairs when I heard the teacher speaking into the mic behind me.

“Can I have all students clear the dance floor? It is now time for the homecoming king and queen to have their dance.

“Oh god,” I muttered, shooting a look over my shoulder.

It was the last thing I wanted, but the students had started to clear the center of the dance floor. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. I just needed to get out of the gym, wake the hell up, and put this horrifying tension dream behind me. Honestly, I’d rather have that dream where I show up naked to AP Calculus on test day than have this dream again. I had never felt so uncomfortable or awkward in my whole life.

Behind me, I could hear Freddie’s footsteps drawing closer. I blinked hard, but nothing happened. I wasn’t waking up.

Then he grabbed my hand. Of course he grabbed my hand. Because that was what the male lead was supposed to do in movies like this.

My instinct was to jerk my hand away, but I just knew if I tried that—or tried to run away, which was my next instinctive move—the scene would probably just start over. So I let Freddie guide me down the stairs, then pull me to the center of the dance floor.

The music had gone soft and wistful, and though there didn’t actually seem to be smoke, the light all around us had taken on a hazy, dreamy quality.

Freddie turned me toward him and, looking into my eyes, placed his hands at my waist.

I reached up to put my hands on his shoulders, but I didn’t step any closer. There was almost a foot between our bodies, and I really valued those twelve inches.

As we started to move slowly in time to the music, Freddie grinned down at me, though I could see at a glance there was nothing happy about his expression.

“What?” I asked.

“I know you broke up with me, Lana, but you don’t have to look so uncomfortable. We’ve danced together hundreds of times.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” I lied. “I just—”

But he didn’t wait for me to finish before he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

Great. I swallowed hard, trying not to scream. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, now that I was essentially hugging the guy. I was too close to rest them on each shoulder now, so should I clasp them together behind his neck? Let them hang limp over his shoulders? Was I supposed to be touching him like this?

It felt so weird. Our bodies were crushed against each other, and I didn’t even know the guy. I’d never danced with anyone like this—hell, I’d never danced with anyone, period. Everything about this felt so strange and so alien. I would’ve rather been dreaming of being stranded on Mars.

I cleared my throat and looked at the punch table, which was just over Freddie’s shoulder. I didn’t have any special interest in punch, but Freddie kept trying to look into my eyes, and I would have looked straight into the sun to avoid his baby blues.

“Look, Lana, I’ve been thinking a lot these past few days, and I—”

Suddenly, the music cut off mid-lyric and the door to the entrance of the gym burst open. Everyone looked over as a girl stepped through. A spotlight—the same homecoming queen spotlight, maybe?—shone onto the girl.

I frowned. Why would anyone shine a spotlight on some random girl coming into the dance late? I wracked my brain for a logical narrative explanation, but it just didn’t make any sense.

As close as we were, I knew exactly when Freddie saw the girl, because he stopped, growing still as a stone as he stared at her.

When he spoke, his voice was filled with a hushed awe. “Who is that?”