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they’d never spoken before, high school heirarchies being what they were.
    “Hey, guys,” Grant said, pulling a relaxed, affable tone out of his arsenal of charms and shaking Jeff’s hand like they were old buddies. He smiled at Gina. “I heard about your race this week. That’s awesome.” Gina was a fantastic runner, and she’d won all her events at Thursday’s track meet. She shot me a look, surprised that Grant knew this, but nothing about Grant managed to surprise me these days. He’d clearly done his homework. I was proud of him; I knew how hard it was to subdue Gina’s cynical side. “Thanks for waiting around for me.”
    “No problem,” Gina said. I could tell she was won over.
    “So,” Grant said. “Should we go?”
    “You have to meet my grandfather first,” I informed him apologetically.
    “Of course,” Grant said. “I’d love to.”
    “Well, don’t get too excited. He’s not very friendly.”
    Grant laughed. “Just introduce us.”
    I shook my head in disbelief. Grant was starting to seem too good to be true. I called upstairs to Granddad, who descended minutes later, looking less than thrilled to have been disturbed. But he had demanded to meet my date, so he couldn’t complain.
    “It’s great to meet you, Dr. Quentin,” Grant said, offering his hand to Granddad, who shook it cordially. “Thanks for letting me take your lovely granddaughter to the prom.” Grant shot me a self-satisfied smile, and I rolled my eyes. He was trying so hard to make a good impression, and the more his effort showed, the more I liked him. “Is there a time you’d like me to have her back by?”
    Granddad mulled the question over for a few seconds. “Midnight should do it.”
    “Granddad,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “Be cool.” According to Granddad, that was something my mom used to say to him as a teenager when she thought he was being too strict. He’d told me this once in rare fit of nostalgia, something I’m sure he regretted later, because it worked every time.
    “All right,” he relented. “One a.m., then. But no later.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Grant said. “We won’t be late.” Granddad nodded, trying not to appear pleased at Grant’s politeness, but I couldn’t disguise my own happiness. Granddad was the world’s hardest person to impress, and if Grant was managing to charm him, it meant I had nothing to worry about.
    In a gesture of uncharacteristic sentimentality, Granddad placed his hand on my shoulder and kissed me on the forehead. “Have a good time, dear. And be safe.”
    “Thanks, Granddad. I will.”
    Gina hooked her elbow with mine. “Come on, Lawson. Let’s get out of here.”

FOUR
    Grant was a terrible dancer. When we first arrived at the hotel—where prom was already in full swing—he was shy about it, demurring every time I tried to drag him onto the dance floor. Finally, I took his hand in mine; I’d had two glasses of punch, which had most certainly been fortified by something out of a flask while the chaperones’ backs were turned, and was overcome by a sudden boldness.
    “Okay, Grant, what’s up?” I whispered into his ear. “You asked me to prom and you won’t even dance with me?”
    “I don’t know how,” he said, confessing this secret in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear it over the pounding music.
    I laughed, thinking he was joking, and he looked away in embarrassment. “I’m serious,” he said, his expression dark and distant.
    I squeezed his hand, trying to make up for laughing and to reassure him without implying that he needed any reassurance. I felt light and fearless, due to a combination of spiked punch and the realization that Grant wasn’t perfect, that he had his own anxieties and faults just like the rest of humanity. It was a relief. Much as I liked Grant, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to tolerate someone who seemed so flawless.
    “You don’t have to know how,” I told him. “Just listen to the