“Honestly, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be so into this,” I said.

Riley raised his eyebrows. “Whyever not? You humans didn’t invent dance, you know.”

I had danced with a boy once before, at my cousin’s wedding, and it was the most uncomfortable experience of my life. I never knew where to direct my gaze, and when I rested my hand on the boy’s shoulder, his shirt was damp with sweat. I couldn’t wait for it to be over.

But with Riley, dancing, like everything else, was completely different. There was nothing awkward about it. I just put my hand in his, and away we sailed across the dance floor.

I wanted to stay like that for as long as the band kept playing, but after a particularly lively number left me red-faced and out of breath, Riley insisted that we stop.

“You require rest and hydration,” he proclaimed. “Wait here while I fetch you water.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving his hand a slight squeeze before letting it go.

As Riley disappeared into the crowd, I found a spot to relax along the wall. Watching other people dance was nothing compared to dancing with Riley, but it was still entertaining. That was when I noticed Vik standing on the other side of the street.

I froze like a deer in headlights. It was the first time I’d seen him since the theatre; he hadn’t shown up at school for the rest of the week. Bree had gotten word that he’d had a Vespa accident and was recovering from concussion. I hadn’t contradicted the story when she passed it on to me.

He was watching me, but not with the cold, hard stare I’d last seen him wear. His expression was one of worry and remorse. Could it be that the boy I knew and loved was back?

I walked slowly across the dance floor to his side of the street, but I stopped with a good five feet still between us.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon us. There’d never been an uncomfortable silence between me and Vik before. For the first time, it really hit me what I’d lost, and it filled me with sadness to think I might never regain it again.

“I would say I’m sorry,” Vik said at last, “but I know that would be way too little, too late.”

Those two words did seem like very little after all that had happened. But he looked so miserable that my heart went out to him.

“You were hypnotized. You didn’t know what you were doing,” I said. “I forgive you, Vik.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Well, that’s great. But I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.”