Page 62 of The Do-Over

I started laughing—no, cackling—when he yelled over the music, “Emilie Hornby, will you Cupid Shuffle with me to the prom?”

“Um,” I yelled back through the uncontrollable giggles, “are you saying you’re my Cupid, shuffling to win my prom favor?”

“Yes!” He nodded while goingto-the-left-to-the-left-to-the-left. “That is exactly what I’m saying!”

And then he did a spontaneous spin move.

“How doyouknow the Cupid Shuffle?” I asked, knowingwithout actually knowing that Nick Stark had never done a line dance in his entire life.

“I’ve been to a wedding before, and also, the song tells you what to do. Now please say yes.”

I couldn’t see through the tears, and my stomach hurt from laughing so hard. “First—tell me you love me.”

He shook his head. “I love your hair and your sensible shoes, you annoying pain in the ass. Please say you’ll prom me.”

“Yes!” I screamed dramatically, jumping up and down, making the people behind us burst into applause. “Yes, I will prom you so hard!”

Nick gave me a look and yelled, “Come join me, Emmie!”

“Nah, I’m goo—”

“Get out there,” Jerome shouted, giving me a dad-look. “Put that boy out of his misery.”

“Aren’t there drugs for that?”

Nick grabbed my hand, and I continued cackling for the entire rest of the song as we line-danced like we were at a wedding with a small team of corporate executives joining in behind us.

“This was a great idea, Hornby,” Nick teased as he wentto-the-right-to-the-right.

I laughed, still dancing as I looked at the beautiful skyline and the boy next to me. “I know.”

CONFESSION #13

I kissed Chris Baker in the back of an RV in seventh grade, and to this day I can’t smell Polo without remembering how noisy his running pants were.

When the elevator doors opened, there were three guys inside, dressed in suits and expensive haircuts. We stepped in front of them, quietly standing side by side as we rode the elevator car down.

“I’m about to smash some waffle fries,” one of the guys said from behind us.

“I wish they’d bring back Bernie’s Pizza. I like chicken, don’t get me wrong, but it’s been the only option for too damn long.”

“So go get Bernie’s.”

“Nah, bro—I’m too lazy and the caf is too convenient.”

I looked at Nick to see if he also thought the way they were talking was ridiculous, and the way he held his mouth a little too tensely told me he was fighting back a laugh, too.

One of them said “This is us” when the doors opened, and the trio filed out when we scooted out of the way.

Nick let out a big breath, but when the doors started to closehe stuck his hand out, and they began opening up again. Quirking one eyebrow in an adorable way, he said, “Hey. You wanna go smash some strips in the caf?”

I squealed. “Ooh—do you think we can?”

He shrugged. “Why not? If they kick us out now, we already got what we wanted.”

I started to get excited. “My momneverlet me eat chicken strips growing up, so they’re my secret favorite food now that I only get when I sneak.” I knew I was rambling but I couldn’t help it. “Y’know, when she’s not around.”

“Who’s not allowed to eat chicken strips?” His eyes did the crinkle thing as he said, “You poor, deprived little book-nerd.”

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