I'm not one for homecoming.

I love dancing, and friends, and music, but homecoming gets too intense. I don't know. Someone always brings drugs or alcohol senior year. I know because I've helped plan senior dances before.

But I'd much rather a night to myself. Well, not just myself. I love nights just me, Sophie, Paul, and Owen. We hang out in a basement, put on some music, dance around and sing, watch some movies, and scarf down ice cream.

And I know I'm going to feel weird with Paul. I want to be going with him. I don't know how to act normal around him as if I didn't want to slow dance with him.

But, here I come homecoming!

~

I spent most of Monday at the ticket booth.

Owen and I had volunteered our time to sell tickets for the junior/senior homecoming, and Victoria and Adriana did for the freshman/sophomore homecoming.

It was odd. Usually, homecoming is planned by an equal amount of people from each class. But this year, the juniors had taken most of the control. All four of us were juniors—there were other people on the committee, but these people didn't give presentations or sell tickets.

By the end of sales Monday day, we had sold half of the tickets.

Sophie pestered me to ask Paul to go as my date, but I refused. If it were a dare in Dare, I'd rather get whipped. Thank god Sophie cares enough about me to not do that.

Before we knew it, it was Friday. Tickets had sold out Thursday, and all we had to do was help set up for the homecoming game.

The game was going to be a blowout. Everybody knew it. Our team hadn't won a single game, and it didn't look like they were planning on turning that around. It was okay; we were basically the Browns of high school football. We haven't won a game for ten years.

The sun seemed to be slowly setting by the time the game started. The bleachers were crowded, virtually the whole school there.

As our team ran on to the field, the bleachers erupted in cheers. Sure, there were a few people who booed, but they were barely audible.

By halftime, the score was 21-0. We were losing. Nobody was surprised, but nobody let the score get their spirits down. We all yelled and cheered.

We got our first touchdown, and my ears were practically ringing from how loud everybody was.

No one talked much. Everybody was so invested in the game. And it wasn't just our group—it was everybody.

21-7.

24-7.

24-14.

24-21.

24-24.

Everybody was on the edge of their seats. A minute left, and the game was tied.

This was a miracle! Our team never got this many points!

Nobody said a word. Nobody dared to blink or even breath. We couldn't risk anything.

The other team had the ball. The pass.

Interception!

The bleachers shook.

I saw our player run, the ball in his hands. The other team leaped to tackle him, but he stayed up and running.

Touchdown!

We cheered.

"That. Was. Fantastic!" Owen screamed.

Everybody was jumping and cheering and smiling. It was fantastic.

~

Paul had a cross country meet the next morning—the morning of homecoming. None of us had shown up to one of his meets before, and we decided we should encourage him.

Reluctantly, I got up at 7 A. M.. My head pounded from the game the night before. And, the time was ridiculous. How could I get up early on a weekend?! Finally, to make it even worse, it was cold. Though, somehow, Paul was standing in shorts and his jersey—which had no sleeves.

"This is perfect running weather!" He cheered. I could see his breath, and I shivered. Nobody should be outside when it was this cold. Breaths should never be visible.

"How?" I asked. "It's freezing!"

"Exactly," Paul responded. I shook my head, but a smile crept up on me. "Anyway, I better head to the team. My race starts in ten minutes, and I gotta finish up warm-ups."

I nodded, and he ran off.

"This is exciting," commented Sophie.

Owen shrugged. "They're just running. Not sure how that's exciting."

"We're encouraging our friend!" Sophie continued. "Besides, the course is only 2.5 miles long. We should be outta here in 20 minutes, max."

"Probably more around 30," I pointed out. "The meet still needs to start."

Before we knew it, it was over. Paul got 2nd, the silver medal hanging proudly around his neck. The boys' team won 1st, and the school's girl team won 2nd.

"I should have gotten first," Paul grumbled as we walked back to Sophie's car.

I rolled my eyes. "Second is still great, Paul."

"Let's just get to our houses," Owen begged. "I need to get ready for homecoming. And Paul needs to shower."

~

The dance didn't start until 8:30. All of us met up at Owen's house at 8:00.

I wore a dark blue knee-length dress. I had put my hair up, and put on a little makeup, and, to finish off the look, I wore some silver flats.

Sophie wore a yellow two-piece, and let her hair stay down. Her belly button to waist was exposed, and the second part ended right above her knees. She had a matching pair of yellow heels.

Owen wore a blue and green plaid button-up shirt, and some tan khakis. His shoes were brown dress shoes from his dad that were a size and a half too large.

And Paul... wow. Black dress pants held up by fancy black suspenders and a purple-gray button-up shirt. To add on, he had a cute red bow tie, and black dress shoes—that, unlike Owen's, were his size. His hair was slicked down and carefully combed, and everything about him was just... perfect.

Not much happened at Owen's house. Our parents drowned us with photos, and I almost fainted every time I was close to Paul.

Owen drove us to the school, and we arrived at 8:15. This was perfect. Owen and I still had to help set up homecoming a little, so getting there early was great.

"Do you guys wanna help?" I asked Sophie and Paul as we stood inside the gym.

Both shook their heads. "We'll just wait outside," Paul offered.

The gym was beautiful. Paintings of stars and the skyline of buildings filled the gym, and yellow wooden stars hung from the ceiling. Food trucks were right outside, and there was a table devoted the punch, pretzels, and other snacks.

The cafeteria looked great, too. Miniatures of the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, and other New York monuments decorated the room. Both dances looked better than imagined.

By 8:30, plenty of kids had shown up. Doors to the cafeteria and gym opened, and they swarmed in. The music started up, and some people took the dance floor.

Sophie tried to get me to dance, but I refused. Every time I looked at Paul, I wished it was just me and him.

A slow song came on, and couples wrapped their hands around each other. I walked out of the gym doors.

I sat on a bench with a huff. It was the senior gift from a few years ago. It was right under a lovely little tree and surrounded by bushes and flowers. Everything about it was beautiful.

I could still hear the faint music and see the lights from the school, so I turned my back on them, trying to block them out. I was never a big fan of dances, anyway.

I looked at my watch. The dim, blue-glowing screen blinked with the numbers 9:23. I groaned. The dance wouldn't be over until 11:00–at the earliest. Sophie and I already made plans to sleep over at her house, and Owen and Paul were sleeping at Owen's house.

I looked up at the sky with a sigh. It was dark, the sky already a deep blue. The stars twinkled in the night, and I looked for constellations. The Big Dipper. Little Dipper. Orion. The stars were so bright, as was the moon; it reminded me of the theme for homecoming. I sighed again.

I heard the crunching of twigs come towards me. "Who's there?" I asked, slightly alarmed.

A head poked itself out of the dark. His hand was held up slightly, waving. A small and guilty smile was placed on his perfect face. "Hi," Paul quietly greeted. "Can I sit?"

I nodded, motioning beside me. "Knock yourself out."

Hesitantly, he took his place on the bench. He had to duck to make sure the tree didn't hit his head. We said nothing, and I heard the slow song turn into something louder and more upbeat.

"Not feeling it?" Paul asked.

I turned to look at him, and my heart fluttered. He was too perfect. "Yeah," I answered.

Paul nodded. "I get it."

A small breeze came in. "Why'd you come out here, Paul?"

"To check on you, Natalie."

I giggled. "What are you, my homecoming hero?" I joked.

He didn't respond.

The wind picked up.

Paul laughed. "Natalie, your hair..."

I smiled. It was a mess. "I know."

"Let me fix it," he told me. I nodded.

Paul leaned in, brushing hair out of my face. He stared intensely into my eyes. I let them flutter shut. I felt Paul's soft hand cup my cheek, and his lips brushed over mine. Sparks flew.

And then he pulled back.

"I-I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "I should go."

I frowned. "Wait," I insisted, grabbing his wrist.

Paul turned back to me. I leaned forward, kissing him again. It was soft and sweet, and his lips matched perfectly with mine.

I pulled away. Paul's eyes were closed. He sighed. "I'm sorry."

He got up and walked away.