I dropped the phone back into the drawer and slammed it shut. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You have a BOYBAND 2.0 ringtone on your cell phone. You! A working professional. An adult. A classy, put-together woman has a ringtone that plays ‘You’ll Get Me Back’ by BOYBAND 2.0.”

“Maybe we need to talk about the fact that you, also a working professional woman, recognized ‘You’ll Get Me Back’ in less than five seconds.”

She paused. “Maybe so, but it’s not my ringtone.”

I dropped back onto the sofa across from her. “It isn’t generally my ringtone either. Only when Randi calls.”

“An old friend from high school?”

“College. My freshman roommate. We didn’t know each other, but then we discovered we had all this random stuff in common, including an intense and deep-seated love for all things BOYBAND 2.0.”

She shook her head and laughed. “This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever heard. Did you ever see them in concert?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“More than once?”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Twice? Three times?”

I shook my head and bit my lip, holding up my hand, fingers spread.

April’s eyes went wide. “You saw them in concert five times? What, did you follow them all over the country?”

“No! More like . . . all over the Eastern Seaboard.”

“Oh, this is so awesome. I mean, I liked their music. I even had a few of their albums, I think, but you . . . This is 2.0 dedication I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. Do you know the dance? What am I asking—of course you know the dance.”

I scoffed. “What do you take me for? I don’t just know the dance. I stood on stage inside Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia, and did the dance. With the band.”

“You did not.”

“Oh, I did. They pulled me out of the second row and brought me on stage—Dustin on one side and Jeremy on the other.” I sighed. “I high-fived them both. It’s probably still on YouTube somewhere.”

April messed with her phone for a second, then set it down on the table, the opening bars of “You’ll Get Me Back” emanating from the tiny speaker. She kicked off her shoes and moved to the middle of my office, motioning for me to join her. It was totally ridiculous, doing this in the middle of my office, in the middle of a workday, years after I’d even thought about the cheesy dance steps that went along with BOYBAND 2.0’s biggest hit. But that song was such a huge part of my teenage experience. I couldn’t not dance.

So I did.

In my conservative black skirt, tapered jacket, and business hair. I kicked off my low-profile business-y shoes and danced like I was a sophomore in high school, the flame of love for Dustin and Jeremy and the rest of 2.0 burning bright.