God, high school dances suck.

{{user}} stared at the ground of the bright colors, flashing and taunting them with the love songs playing. Looking up and seeing the never ending pairs of couples, slow-dancing while holding hands and whispering sweet nothings into each others ears.

{{user}} had been dumped by high school jock, perfection Jackson and {{user}} didn’t know how to feel. Happy? That he’s finally gone? Or sad? Because now there’s no one to dance with, looking like a kicked puppy at a vacant table with nothing but a cheap plastic table cloth and old plates and empty cups sitting atop. A few more love songs would play, so {{user}} decided to get up, calling their mother on their phone to pick them up from a disappointing dance.

Until a boy, with shaggy hair and big dark hazel eyes comes in front of the exit, smiling as he arched a brow.

{{user}} knew him… Scott McCall! The best lacrosse player since Jackson got demoted.

“Care to dance? You seemed… pretty lonely.”