Hesitantly, I stepped forward on Oxford wingtip-covered feet that were not nearly as agile as hers, adjusting my tie awkwardly. She tossed her stick my way, and I grabbed it as she rifled through her bag for another. My hands were literally clammy with nerves, and the slick metal of the stick threatened to launch itself right out of my slippery grip. Yeah, I feared this girl. We’d been at each other’s throats since we started playing in the same town. But fear was definitely not the explanation for my state at the moment.

‘I’ll probably go in there again in a minute. Just needed to … clear my head, I guess.’ She nodded, a nervous little head-bob, fidgeting with the brand-new gold pendant she’d just got earlier that day at the start of the party: an elaborate cursive M in a heart with scalloped filigree edges. ‘I’ve never been much of a dancer.’ And then she did something entirely weird, and she said, ‘Do you think I binned that zapateado? My baile sorpresa?’

For my part, I tried and failed to do my darnedest to hide my shock, and I replied totally honestly. ‘You care what I think?’

May looked about as shocked as I was. ‘That’s a question?’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘Whatever,’ she said with a scrunch of her nose. ‘Guys never get it.’

I opened my mouth to say something – anything, at that point – but then immediately closed it again. Instead of some witty comeback, I answered her question.

‘Even if you binned the dance,’ I said, ‘you looked really good doing it.’

Her response was a ball thrown at me. I moved my stick to catch it.

‘You suck.’

‘Thanks.’

I could’ve sworn she smiled, a spark of light dancing across her glossy lips, even if it was just a little. ‘I appreciate it. But I think I’m better at this.’

‘Good thing I can agree.’

‘Oh, for sure. Because I’m glad I got out here before your parents made you join the open dancefloor.’

‘Come on, that’s mean.’

‘Best of five. Winner gets to shit on the other one’s dance skills.’

‘God, clear your head, May.’

‘Shut up!’ She threw another ball at me, and I caught that one in hand, an eyebrow raised.

‘You suck,’ I retorted. ‘Stop chucking those at me, I have two now.’

‘Or what?’ She mirrored my expression, planting her stick in the grass, a hand on her hip. At that time, at least, we were literally eye to eye. Her stare bored right into my head, and I realized we’d moved much closer to one another. I could smell her expensive perfume, make out the little lacelike edges of her pendant. ‘What’ll you do about it, Colt?’