Dennis is in here, sitting a row over and several seats away.
Dennis always pretends that he doesn’t remember me, but he does it in that way that clearly indicates he does. At the very least, he’d have to remember me from all the times he presented that studied look of unrecognition when he saw me.
It doesn’t matter. I certainly remember Dennis, because I have him to thank for making me stop liking jerks. Back in eighth grade, we had this dance at my school, and I made Jennifer go with me so I could try to get Dennis’s attention and maybe get to dance with him. I’d had a crush on him for almost the whole year, and this was my bold move to get noticed.
But he barely talked to me when I tried to chat with him. He ignored all my hints when I made it very obvious that I wasn’t there with anybody and I really wanted to dance and I liked this song and that song, and did he like this song?
Totally ignored me! He just wanted to dance with Katrina Parker, who was totally ignoring him. So I decided after an hour of making an idiot of myself that this was stupid, and I went and found someone who wanted to dance with me, and did.
And now here’s fate throwing me and Dennis together in the detention hall. Be still, my heart.