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Then, when we got to Michael’s floor, Lars discreetly took a seat in the TV lounge, where there was a game on, and Michael and I went to his room, which was fortunately empty, his roommate, Doo Pak, being at a meeting of the Korean Student Association.

“So,” I said, trying to sound all casual after sitting down on Michael’s neatly made bed. Even though the last thing I felt was casual. In fact, I felt as if all the blood in my veins had frozen up. If someone had chopped my arm off at that moment, I’m pretty sure it would have shattered into a thousand pieces instead of bleeding, like I was one of those frozen guys in that cryogenic prison in Demolition Man (also a dystopic sci-fi film).

Because suddenly, I was sure Michael was going to break up with me for being such an immature freak at his party.

And the next thing I knew, I heard myself blurting, “Look, I’m sorry about the stupid sexy dance. Really, really sorry. And there’s nothing going on between me and J.P. Seriously. It’s just that I was FREAKING OUT. I mean, all those supersmart college girls—”

Michael, who’d taken a seat across from me in his desk chair, blinked. “Sexy dance?”

“Yes,” I said. “The one I was doing with J.P.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Was that what you were doing? A sexy dance?”

“Yes.” I could feel my cheeks heating up. Can I just say that when Buffy did a sexy dance at the Bronze to make Angel jealous in that one episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I’m pretty sure Angel went out and killed a bunch of vampires afterward just to work out his sexual frustration? Trust MY boyfriend to not even recognize a sexy dance when he saw one.

I tried not to think about what this suggested for the future of our relationship. Not to mention my sexy-dancing skills.

“It’s not totally my fault,” I insisted. “Well, I mean, the sexy-dance part was. But you invite me to this party knowing I’ll be the youngest, least intelligent person there. How did you EXPECT me to feel? I was totally intimidated!”

“Mia,” Michael said, a little dryly. “You were by far not the least intelligent person there. And you’re a princess. And you were intimidated?”

“Well,” I said. “I may be a princess, but I still get intimidated. Especially by older girls. College girls. Who know about…college things. And I’m sorry I spazzed. But was what I did really so unforgivable? I mean, all I did was have ONE beer and do a sexy dance with another guy. And I wasn’t even technically dancing with him, just sort of in front of him. And okay, maybe ultimately it wasn’t that sexy. And I do realize now that the beret was a mistake. The whole thing was totally immature, I know. But—” I could feel tears welling in my eyes. “But you still could have called instead of giving me the silent treatment for two days!”

“The silent treatment?” Michael echoed. “What are you talking about? I haven’t been giving you the silent treatment, Mia.”

“Excuse me,” I said, fighting to keep from bursting into tears. “I left you, like, fifty messages, plus sent you bagels AND a giant cookie, and all I heard from you is this cryptic text, WE NEED 2 TALK—”

“Give me a break, Mia,” Michael said. Now he looked kind of annoyed. “I’ve been slightly preoccupied—”

“I realize your History of Dystopic Sci-Fi in Film course is very intense, and all,” I interrupted. “And I know I acted like a fool at your party. But the least you could have done was—”

“I haven’t been preoccupied with homework, Mia,” Michael said, interrupting me right back. “And yes, you did act like a fool at my party. But that’s not it, either. The fact is, I’ve been trying to deal with total family drama. My parents…they’re separating.”

Um. WHAT??????

I blinked at him. I didn’t think I could have heard him right. “Excuse me?” I said.

“Yeah.” Michael stood up and, turning his back to me, ran a hand through his thick dark hair. “My parents are calling it quits. They told me the night of the party.” He turned to face me, and I saw that, even though he was trying not to let it show, he was upset. Really upset.

And not because his girlfriend isn’t a party girl. Or is TOO much of one. Not because

of either of those things at all.

“I’d have told you then,” he said. “If you’d stuck around. But I came out of their room, and you were gone.”

I stared at him in horror, realizing the true magnitude of my stupidity that night. I had fled his party, embarrassed about having gotten caught doing a sexy dance with another guy by Michael’s parents, and assuming he’d felt the same way about it…. Why else had he gone off and left me alone like that?

But now I realized he’d had a good reason to disappear the way he had. He’d been talking to his parents. Who hadn’t been telling him to break up with his slutty, sexy-dancing girlfriend.

Instead, they’d been telling him they were splitting up.

“It wasn’t a conference they went to this past weekend,” Michael went on. “They lied to me. They went to a marathon session with a marriage counselor. It was a last-ditch effort to see if they could iron things out. Which failed.”

I stared at him. I felt like someone had kicked me in the chest. I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

“Ruth and Morty?” I heard myself whisper. “Separating?”

“Ruth and Morty,” he confirmed. “Separating.”

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