Page 76 of Dance with Me on New Year's Eve

What? I checked my wine glass, and I’d barely touched my second glass yet. I couldn’t be drunk. Was hereallyasking me that?

SawyerRox4:Really?

CastGamer55:Well, I’m out of town for Christmas and pretty busy before that. But I could do New Year’s.

SawyerRox4:Wow, you’re serious?

CastGamer55:…

SawyerRox4:I have to go to a work party, well, kind of a work party. The boss is kind of my friend too. I think. I’m not good at recognizing when someone is a friend. Until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure ifyouconsidered me a friend.

I couldn’t believe I had the courage to say all this, even online. I couldn’t believe I was even considering this. And I couldn’t believe what I typed next:

SawyerRox4:You could meet me at the party if you want.

CastGamer55:I was just going to suggest that.

SawyerRox4:Oh. You want to?

CastGamer55:Why else would I suggest it?

SawyerRox4:Fair point

CastGamer55:Mindy, will you dance with me on New Year’s Eve?

Chapter 20

What was that sound? Why did my head weigh a million pounds? Had I tried to swallow sandpaper? Why was my nose not working? And why did every part of my body feel achy?

These questions dug their way into my consciousness as I tried to sit up in bed.

Too hard.

I’ll go back to sleep. Yes, sleep is good.

Ding-ding-ding.

That sound! Not again. Who the heck was at my door? My eyes fell shut again.

Ding-ding. Ding-ding-ding.

Growling, I somehow managed to get into a sitting position and then slowly lumbered to my feet. I located my slippers by my bedroom door alongside a large pile of laundry—clean or dirty, who knew?—and stepped into them as I struggled to keep my balance amid the swirling headache.

Ding-ding.

Ugh, this better be extremely important. It’d better not be a social call from the chatty neighbor, Jenna. Or anyone else. Hazel knew I’d called off sick, so it wouldn’t be her, surely.

I pulled the door half-open with great effort, wishing for the hundredth time that I had a peephole.

Was I seeing things? It looked like Jeff. I squinted and moved a bit closer. Yeah, that looked like Jeff, standing there with a large, hunter-green messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s you.” I yawned. “Nobody ever visits me. Hardlyanyone knows where I live. I thought you were my annoying neighbor. Her name is Jenna. Best to avoid her.”

I thought he was going to laugh for a moment, but his face became more serious. “Roxy, are you OK?”

“Uh, sure,” I said, knowing and not caring how obvious my lie was. I probably looked like death, but I was too tired to be self-conscious. “What are you doing here, Jeffrey?”

“Can I come in?”

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