They jitterbugged, they danced the schottische, they waltzed. Elissa never once let go of his hand, and, for what must have been nearly an hour, forgot even to wonder where Muriel and Betty were. Contrary to what he had claimed, he was more than a passable dancer, and as he dipped her low, twirled her, pulled her in tight to him again, she felt utterly at ease in his arms and yet electrified, as though the music was coming up from the floor right into the soles of her shoes, coming through his hands straight into her pulsing blood.

“Aren’t you tired of me yet?” he asked, when the band started playing “You and I” and they fell easily into step together. “I’ve seen some of the boys eying me and getting mighty jealous.”

“I’m not tired of you. Not yet.”

He laughed, twirled her, pulled her close. “I suppose you got a boyfriend back home,” he said.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Y’all’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, Nick, I would never say anything just to make you feel better.”

“Well, that’s mighty comforting.”

“Do you have a girl?” she asked, scarcely believing her own boldness; but this was war, after all!

“No,” he said, “but I might look at changing that real quick, if you’re agreeable.”

“What?”

“Just dance with me,” he said. “Dance with me till midnight, Cinderella, and tell me then if you’ll leave me your shoe.”

But before Elissa realized it, it was one A.M. and the band was launching into their last number, “I’ll Be Seeing You.” Some time after midnight, Muriel had waltzed by with a soldier and given her a wink. Other than that, all was a breathless blur of dancing. Thank goodness Betty’s parents allowed a late curfew! Elissa had never been allowed to stay out so late, but this was the one night of her life that it seemed absolutely necessary.

“So,” Nick said, holding her close, as the music swelled, “will I be seeing you?”

In all the times she had heard it, “I’ll Be Seeing You” had never once failed to make Elissa tear up, and now was no exception. Except, this time, looking up at Nick, it was almost more than her heart could bear. She tried to speak; couldn’t.

“Aw, now, don’t cry,” he said, touching her face. “Was it that bad a time? You’ll give me your address, won’t you, so I can write?”

She nodded.

“You could come down next weekend. I’d take you out for supper and then we could come dancing.”

She hadn’t thought of that possibility. “Next weekend?”

“You’re staying at your friend’s?”

“Yes.”

“Can I walk you there?”

“Well,” she considered, trying to keep herself in check. She was a respectable girl, after all. “Yes, if you’ll escort Muriel and Betty, too.”