61 I didn’t mean to dance that close. Really—it’s totally against my nature. But something came over me—something chemical, something I couldn’t control. I am shocked and horrified to admit that Nick Langan and I actually sort of made out on the dance floor, right there in front of everybody, the two of us mashed together, not really dancing, but clutching and kissing for the entire duration of two back-to-back slow songs. Finally the DJ showed some mercy and switched to a loud, obnoxious dance track, so I could finally pry myself off of Nick and catch my breath. “Oh,” I gasped, “this is bad.” Nick grinned. His teeth flickered in the strobe light. He kissed my neck, then whispered, “I think it’s pretty great. Come on—let’s get out of here.” More than happy to, thank you. Because that w

