Mark nods, "Yeah, like tissues, totally. And maybe a ride home, 'cuz it would be lowly of me to make you walk." He ducks his head to the side and tries to catch my eye. I glance at him and give a weak smile. "That's better. Wait 'til you see the tissues. Prepare to have your mind blown." He moves around to the driver's side and comes back with a box. I thought he was kidding, but when he holds them out, I can't help it.

My jaw drops and I grab for one. "Wow. These are really tissues?" I feel the soft tissue in my hand, but the thing is glowing. I dab my brow and my neck. My body is covered in little beads of sweat. It's so frickin' hot.

"Yup. I got 'em off the internet. The only horrible side effect is that your nose, or wherever, will glow green for a while when everyone shuts out the lights."

I stop and stare at him. "What?"

There must be knifes shooting out of my eyeb.a.l.l.s, because he holds up his hands and says, "Just kidding, pretty lady. I just wanted to see you smile again." Mark b.u.mps his shoulder into mine. I can't help it, I grin. "There it is. You made my night. Please sit on my car anytime you want. It's usually unlocked. Feel free to sit inside, if it's raining or what-have-you."

I nod. "Thanks, Mark."

"No problem, babe. You want a ride somewhere?" He's so sweet. The guy has been around me all semester, but this is the first time he's really talked to me. During cla.s.s, I've caught him looking my way, but I thought I imagined it. He's too cute and way too popular to be talking to me. I can see why there's always a group of people around him.

I look back at the gym. This guy is my age and he's really sweet, but...

"No, thanks. I need to head back in. But thanks for this." I hold up the tissues. "By the way, if my b.o.o.bs glow green tonight, I'm gonna hunt you down."

He laughs so hard he nearly falls off the car. "Totally didn't expect that from you. But, feel free. Green b.o.o.bs or not, you can hunt me down anytime." He smirks at me before ducking into his car. I watch him pull away, then head inside.

CHAPTER 17

I'm sitting on the bleachers when Peter sees me. He walks over and sits next to me. "I thought you ditched me."

"I thought about it, but I didn't want to make you look bad in front of all these kids. Millie p.i.s.sed me off. Well, it's not Millie. It's everyone. They're talking." I'm picking at my nails as I'm speaking. When did I start telling him every little thing? I look at Peter out of the corner of my eye. He's your friend, stupid. Of course you tell him stuff.

Peter looks puzzled. "They're talking about what?"

"About us. I've heard everything from you knocked me up, to you're doing me in your office, and that TA means something else entirely. Get it? T and A? Har har. It's hysterical." I make a face and watch a couple of kids trying to dance in front of us. Another couple b.u.mps into them.

Peter gives me a strange look and then laughs. He runs his hands over his head, rumpling his hair. "d.a.m.n. I finally have a platonic relationship with a woman and look where it gets me."

"I know right? You scoundrel, you." I'm leaning on my hands, with my elbows on my knees. There are more people here tonight. The music is blasting and the air is warm. Someone propped open the back door. The night air drifts in slowly and smells sweet, like honeysuckle.

"So, what'd you tell them?"

"I told one person that I have a mad crush on you. I kind of freaked out on her a little bit when she told me what people were saying. I needed a diversion. And Millie, well, I just bit her head off. No explanation." I stare straight ahead.

Peter clears his throat. I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He's grinning. "You defended me? And what, my honor? I thought I was supposed to do that for you?"

I smirk and turn toward him. Peter's face is glistening from dancing. d.a.m.n, it's hot in here. The no air conditioning thing is rough. My eyes drift to his shoulders and down his chest. Peter's shirt is sticking to his chest and is very wrinkled. He looks good. There's more color in his cheeks, more life in his eyes than when he first got here.

I b.u.mp him with my shoulder. "You're a dork, you know that?"

"Is it because of the dancing?" Peter asks, seriously, trying to figure out why people would say that about us. He looks baffled. Peter pushes his hair out of his face. It's damp and curling at the ends.

"Are you kidding?" I ask and he shakes his head. I smirk at him. "It's because you're hot. There'll be rumors about anyone you talk to unless they see you dating someone, and even then... well, people are stupid. They talk even when there isn't anything to talk about."

"Did they say things like that about Tadwick?"

"Tadwick wasn't hot. You are."

"And whose opinion is that?" He's grinning at me. Peter b.u.mps me with his knees.

"It's the word on the street. Personally, I think you're a little too muscly and tan. I prefer my men frail and pasty. Sorry, Charlie."

"Peter. My name is Peter. d.a.m.n, Sidney. You can't even remember my name." Peter's smile deepens and I can see a dimple on his cheek. They're so cute. He is pretty to look at. I glance at a flock of girls behind him on the bleachers. There's a pool of drool on the floor. They are all staring, their mouths gaping like Swedish Fish.

I get up and smack Peter in the arm with the back of my hand. "Come on, professor. I want to dance until I can't stand up." I bound across the room with Peter on my heels. I stop and turn suddenly. He nearly slams into me. Time freezes for a moment. The air feels hotter, the night feels electrified. Peter lifts his hand. I press my palm to his. The touch is charged. I feel it down to my toes. I grin broadly. I can't help it. And we dance.

Peter's hands are always in modest places, but the way his hands slide over my skin and glide over my dress, well, it feels like he owns me-like I'm his to control. It's weird. I've danced before, but this feeling never emerged. I danced to get away from my ex and my family. They weren't interested. It was a place to find my balance and learn to endure my life. But Peter changed that. I'm no longer enduring. I'm laughing, sweating, and spinning. I don't shirk away from his touch, either. That's new. When we first started dancing together, I enjoyed it-I can admit that-but his hands made me nervous. Now they make me comfortable. I feel stronger, better.

The music moves faster as the tempo changes. We're laughing and some of the students stop to watch us. Peter asks as we dance, "Ready?" He wants to do a throw.

I nod. I expect him to lead into the steps, but he doesn't. Instead we step into each other and Peter spins me back and pulls me to him. I grin. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just wondering why you trust me with throws but not-"

"Death spins? I think it has something to do with the word death." I laugh. The music pulses through me. Peter winds me around him and under his arm, then he snaps me back to his chest.

"I think I could convince you." He smiles down at me and twirls me across the floor. We separate for a few steps before he reaches for me again. I'm back in his arms. There's a not much s.p.a.ce between us. Peter holds me so close that we're nearly touching.

"I'm not wearing a helmet."

He laughs. "You're so stubborn."

"You're so not going to throw my face at the floor." I grin at him. Peter holds up his palm and pushes on my back. I follow, moving under his arm. The music is in the right spot to lead into the aerial.

"Are you holding out on me or are we doing this?"

Peter yanks me close and my hips slam against his. My heart is pounding way too fast. "Let's do it."

Peter leads me into the move, and I follow. A twist, a turn, and he pulls me hard. I roll over his back with my legs splayed. My skirt flares and I land on the floor. I duck, and Peter swings his leg over my head before he pulls me up into a twist. I slip up from between his legs, and he lifts me by the waist. I continue the move and kick. I feel the momentum as I swing upward. I'm smiling way too big. My stomach has that free-fall feeling as I come rushing back down.

Peter executes the move perfectly and my legs fly around his waist. His hands cradle my back as dips me backward. The music stops. We're both breathing hard. The silence becomes more noticeable. Peter holds me for a moment. The club starts clapping and Peter sets me down. He nods at me, as if it was a demonstration. Then, he goes into safety issues with those kinds of moves and invites the more advanced dancers to learn some of the steps we just did.

A girl walks up to Peter. He holds out his hand and dances with her. That's when I realize that sharing isn't my thing. Peter looks beautiful, all rumpled and smelling like heaven. Stuffing my nail-clawing instincts back into the crazy part of my brain, I grab a bottle of water from the cooler. I watch him show a few girls the moves in slow motion. There are some guys there, too. He shows them where to put their hands and how to lead the steps.

I guzzle my water and walk the perimeter of the room, trying to cool off. After a while, I head toward the open door. The night breeze feels good on my skin. I step outside. The sky is deep indigo, like a bottle of ink. There's a speckling of stars tonight. I lean against the cool brick wall, feeling the rough stones through the thin fabric of my dress.

A few moments later, Peter comes out. "Dinner?"

"Sure. I didn't get a chance to eat, yet."