Jack is in the storage room next to ours, putting away the pillows, and Katherine and Nevaeh are at the loading dock, packing up everything that needs to be taken back to the dorm. They’ve been awhile, and there’s not that much to pack. When I make my way down the corridor and push open the EXIT door, I think I manage to smother my gasp and let it close quickly and quietly.

Entwined, under the dim gold light. Nevaeh’s hands tangling in Katherine’s curls.

I spin and bang straight into Jack’s chest, catch myself. “We can’t go out there!” I whisper. “Go! Go!” I push him backward, my hands on his chest, down the hallway.

When he stops, I crash into him. He covers my hands with his. “What’s going on?” he whispers.

I bounce on my toes, and I can’t stop smiling. “Nevaeh and Katherine are totally making out!”

“Oh, no way!” he says, grinning. “This is the wildest night.”

“It’s so great, and I am so happy—and you’re happy too!?” I say, completely surprised when it occurs to me.

“Of course I’m happy! I’m not a monster.” He frowns.

“But you—don’t you like Katherine?” I swore he was half in love with Katherine, I did. Or at least—that he could never choose me, when we were standing side by side. But something in me shifts.

“Katherine?” he says. “Of course I like Katherine.” And now he’s looking at me like I am totally demented.

“I mean a crush!” I wave my hands around, trying to explain. Trying to make sure. “Like-her, like her! Want to kiss her!”

He’s shaking his head. “Like-like her?” He smiles at that. “Want to kiss her? No. Not Katherine,” he says. He’s waiting for me. Hopeful. A little nervous?

I thought, of course he’d prefer someone smaller than me. Not fat. The perfect classical ballerina I could never be. An assumption as easy and automatic as breathing.

But the way he’s looking at me now, eyes lovely, dark, and intense, and that smile and that hope.

And me. Tonight. Dazzling, gorgeous—delightful, delicious, all those things he introduced me as and more. I can’t believe I ever thought he’d never be into me. I can believe that look in his eyes.

When I take a step closer to him, he seems to catch his breath. The whole world seems to catch its breath.

“So,” I say softly. “Just to be clear. Not Katherine.”

“No,” he says. I watch his face carefully, the tiny smile that’s crooking his lip. “Not her.”

I hadn’t wanted to have feelings for him. Too serious. Too tightly wound. Arrogant, I thought. Closed off.

Kind. Thoughtful. Earnest. Unexpectedly funny. Intense.

That arch of his eyebrow. That biteable curve of his lip.