I slid down in my seat and tried not to inhale.
In math class, I looked around for the pinch-faced drill team girl, hoping to pump her for more information about Gwendolyn, but she was out, too.
Walking across the classroom, Hannah Branson caught my eye. If she wore a verb T-shirt, it would say, GOSSIP or SUCK UP . âWhatâs the deal with Henry? Heâs been out forever.â Hannah was a good five inches taller than I was, plus she had this habit of tilting up her pointy chin, which meant I got a view up her nostrils that I could have done without.
âHeâs ⦠Iâm not sure.â
âIs he camping?â She tilted her chin up a notch higher. It bugged me that Hannah knew that Henryâs family liked to camp, but then, pretty much everything Hannah did bugged me.
âI donât know. Maybe.â
She raised her eyebrows. âSo ⦠did you guys break up?â
I blinked at her. âWe were never going out.â
âReally?â Her chin finally dropped, and her eyes popped a little.
âTruly.â I forced a smile.
âEveryone thought you were.â
âEveryone was wrong.â
âSo ⦠youâre not going to Homecoming with him?â
âNo. Iâm not.â I had no intention of going to the dance with anyone, not that it was any of her business. Homecoming was the last thing on my mind right now.
âOh.â Hannah pressed her lips together and flitted to her seat.
We had two schoolwide dances every year: Homecoming and Winter Formal. Last February, during biology lab, I was partnered with a small, intense boy named Rudy (verb T-shirt: STUDY ) when the whole dance and dating thing first crossed my radar.
âYou going to Winter Formal?â Rudy had asked. We were sharing a microscope. Examining bacteria. Love was not in the air. The only thing in the air was the smell of rotting leaves and hand sanitizer.
âNah.â I squirted some goo on a slide. Going to the dance had never occurred to me. It would require tickets, a dress, shoes ⦠all kinds of stuff that cost money. Plus, aside from a particularly gorgeous senior water polo player whom I worshipped from afar, no boys in this school interested me. And also, I didnât like being in large groups of, you know. People.
Rudy took the slide and stuck it under the microscope. He peered through the viewfinder and adjusted the lens. âI was thinking the dance might be fun. You want to go together?â His tone was super casual, like he was asking me to join a study group. He kept his eye on the bacteria.
âNo, thanks.â I jotted down a couple of notes. âIâd rather just stay home. Watch movies or something.â I would have said no to a study group, too. I only liked doing homework with Henry.
It wasnât until Rudy looked up, his face bright red, that I realized that he had been asking me out. Like on a date. While examining bacteria.
âI thought he meant in a group of friends!â I later told Henry. He thought the story was hilarious. Of course he did. âWhy does Rudy even like me? I hardly know him.â
Itâs not like I wanted to go to the dance, but I felt bad about being so rude.
âOh, Daisy,â Henry said, still laughing a little. âYou donât get it.â
âWhat?â
âYouâre cute. Guys notice you.â He kept his tone completely matter-of-fact, like heâd said, Youâre right-handed or You have brown eyes .
âAll guys?â I asked.
He gave me what can only be described as a Dad Smile. âOnly the ones with good taste.â
The Dad Smile actually made me feel better. If Henry thought I was cute, if Henry asked me outâugh. It would be worse than awkward. Iâd be out a best friend.
The day before Winter Formal, a Thursday, I was checking Netflix on Henryâs smartphone. (He had a better phone than I did.⦠Well, he had a better