Mary Elizabeth, this is getting you nowhere. She stepped off the bus. As she did so, she remembered Nora catching her as she stumbled getting off the bus from the night shift. Her stomach did a somersault. Let it go. What you need is to go to a dance tonight. That’ll take your mind off things.

Of course, she didn’t really know how to dance. Sam’s disability made him too self-conscious to dance, so that was something they hadn’t done as a couple. Still, she’d gone to a couple of dances with her girlfriends where she’d enjoyed watching the other kids dance the Jitterbug, the Lindy Hop, and the East Coast Swing. Maybe she could fake it.

Sam… Her mother’s most recent letter said he still visited her regularly and they talked of this “foolish willfulness” of Mary’s ending, her coming to her senses, and returning home to marry him.

In a pig’s eye. In truth, the only time Mary ever thought of Sam was when her mother mentioned him in a letter. She certainly wasn’t pining for him. In fact, she didn’t miss him in the least.

Again, her thoughts turned to Nora. On those days when she didn’t see her, she missed her and wondered where she was and what she was doing. She’d never wondered those things about Sam.

Why are you comparing Nora to Sam? It isn’t like she was a love interest. Maybe this was akin to a crush on a favorite teacher. That must be it—a simple case of hero worship. You know that’s not true.

As she approached the dorm, she stopped short. There was Nora, standing in the street. Only her profile was visible. She was chatting with two of the girls Mary recognized as living on the second floor. What were their names again?

Nora threw her head back and laughed unselfconsciously and Mary’s mouth went dry. You’re beautiful when you laugh. She shook her head. Where are you going with this?

Should she proceed into the dorm? If so, Nora and those other girls were directly in her path. She would have to say something. You can’t stand here paralyzed. You look stupid.

Before she could figure out what to do, Nora turned in her direction. Their eyes met and Nora ducked her head.

Mary propelled herself forward, but Nora turned away, said something to her friends, and continued up the hill alone.

“Hi, I’m Mary,” she said, when she reached the two girls to whom Nora had been speaking. “I live on the first floor.”

“I thought I’d seen you around. I’m Rosalie, and this,” she said, pointing to her friend, “is Betty. We live upstairs from you.”