Duke leads me to the middle of a crowd of strangers and spins me around, hopping up and down with the intro beat. We’re screaming the lyrics and bobbing our heads and swirling this way and that. When we get to the chorus, we stop dancing and shout the words, pounding our chests and feeling the lyrics as if they were written about us. Duke spins me under his arm and pulls me in, one hand around my waist and the other held in his. I beam up at his carefree face. This kid deserves to feel this way all the time. Something snags his attention, and he surges through the crowd, pulling Micah in with us. Micah laughs, punching Duke in the arm lightly, but stays and dances. We’re in the middle of a mob of dancing kids, everyone screaming the lyrics and feeling alive. My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and when the song ends, it’s bittersweet. Something slow and hip-hop comes on next, and a girl is offering a drink to Duke, who winks over her shoulder at me as he starts to talk to the pretty redhead.

I press my lips together, pleased, watching them before turning my attention to Micah, who says, “I left your drink behind when Duke pulled me in to dance … Would you like me to get you another?”

“I’m good,” I say. “My belly is plenty swoopy for one night.”

We stand on the edges, my back to his front and his arms loose around my shoulders, watching Duke dance and flirt and have fun. Mostly. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hyperaware of Micah’s body pressed against mine. The music slows down, and I can’t keep myself from swaying along, brushing myself against him and letting the friction buzz in my blood. I’m distracted and a little dizzy, and I can’t be sure if it’s him or the alcohol.

I think it might be him. Which … yowza.