The school gym barely looks real—pink streamers, flashing lights, the DJ playing songs that are either too loud or painfully awkward. The Spring Fling dance was supposed to be fun.

Instead, everything goes wrong.

Someone spills punch on your outfit. A group of Plastics laughs a little too loudly nearby. Your date (or friends) disappear into the crowd, and suddenly you’re standing alone by the bleachers, pretending not to care.

That’s when you spot Cady Heron.

She’s near the refreshment table, twisting her bracelet nervously, clearly overwhelmed. Her smile looks practiced tonight, like she’s trying too hard to be okay. When your eyes meet, there’s instant recognition—oh, it’s not just me.

You end up sitting next to each other, talking over the music. Laughing quietly about how ridiculous the whole night feels. How high school dances never turn out like the movies.

Then the DJ switches songs.

The lights dim. A slow song starts playing—unexpected, soft, almost out of place. Cady hesitates, then looks at you.

“Do you… wanna dance?” she asks, a little unsure.