Chapter 16

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"Did you hear about the February Formal this year?" asked Cambrie, her dark eyes gleaming.

I stifled a laugh. Cambrie loved social events, such as dances, and was surely to be the one to give them weight. As far I could remember, she had never missed a high school dance, and had drug me to nearly all of them. Back then though, it wasn't too hard to drag me anywhere.

The February Formal had been announced earlier this year. It was to be held the last weekend of the month and be Valentine's Day themed. This was a ploy from the student administration to get festive but not celebrate the holiday on the actual day in order to appease both Valentine's Day lovers and haters alike. "A dance to celebrate the worst holiday of the year. What's not to like?" I said vacantly.

"Oh, c'mon! We all know the worst holiday of the year is Columbus Day. Why do we celebrate a guy whose claim to fame was discovering the new world? People were already living there!"

I felt my cheeks grow with amusement. "Fine, but Valentine's Day takes second place."

"Just because you're a strong, independent woman who needs no man, doesn't mean we all are. I mean – look – I aspire to be you – really, I do, but I love love. What can I say?"

"You'll see me there," I said covertly, wondering the reaction this would stir in Cambrie and hoping for the most dramatic. I succeeded. Her mouth opened wide and her eyes grew large. She even raised her hands in the air in celebration.

"You're going! Ugh, Ell, why didn't you say something and spare me the agony?"

"I'll be there, but not in a dress. I have to go for Journalism. I got assigned to write a story on the dance for the campus paper."

"A story? Really?" Cambrie said in mock surprise.

I nudged her arm playfully, and said, "Play your cards right and I'll write the story about you. You could be gracing the front page."

Cambrie rolled her eyes, nudged me in return, and we continued walking.

"So, are you taking Asher?" I asked, recalling the handsome man with a blinding smile from the party.

"Mmm, no, I don't think so. I'm about to break things off with him anyway." Cambrie donned a thoughtful expression for a moment. "Maybe I'll just go stag – that'll be something for you to write about. I can see the headline now... 'Girl with many conquests, conquests her own heart.'"

Cambrie and I then proceeded through the door of our psychology class. I thought about the February Formal as I sank into my desk and pretended to listen to the droning voice of the professor teaching a lesson. It was true, I had been assigned to write an article for the Formal. I nearly scoffed in my professor's face at the prospect. What could I possibly write about at a dance? It seemed outrageous and like a huge waste of time. The only people who might care to read the story would already be in attendance.

Although I felt like telling my professor to think again, there wasn't a foreseeable way out of writing the article, and I accepted my fate. On the bright side, many treats were typically available at dances, and I could nab a few. I might even get lucky and witness some drama or a fight breaking out, but this, I knew, was wishful thinking. The only thing I would see would be illicit dancing, drunken idiots, and foreplay. It was going to take days of sterilizing my eyeballs to rid the images. And then I would be reminded all over again when I wrote the article.

Luckily, I still had a little over a week before I had to attend to the dance. Unluckily, I would have to endure dinner with my father and his girlfriend within that timeframe.

Pushing this thought away, I tried to focus on my monotonous professor. Her voice was low and dull, as if she spoke on a flatline, and before I knew it, my mind had once again slipped back inside itself. I was thinking about my meetup with Ben this afternoon for our project, and, as much as I didn't want to admit it, a small, miniscule part of me, was looking forward to it.

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