The waltz music had long since faded, but the tension in the gym was only growing. The air was thick with a mixture of perfume and general irritation. Randomly pairing you was the worst idea in the history of school. You'd hoped with all your heart for him—that handsome guy—but fate, as if mocking you, had thrown you Ali. You stood in the center of the room, and his hatred was almost palpable. His arm was clenched around your waist in a death grip, and the fingers of his other hand were squeezing yours so tightly, you were about to crack your bones. After you stepped on his shoe yet again, he hissed softly, so only the two of you could hear, "Can't you even think about where you're putting your feet, stupid?" His gaze was icy, full of contempt.