REASONS I SHOULD NOT GO TO THE BEATUS DANCE.

1. I have no date.

2. I have no friends.

3. I have no shoes. Because Dog hid one. Not in the dishwasher this time. Seriously, where is it?!

4. I will just be standing there like a loser. With no date and no friends and no shoes.

5. No one will want me there. This will probably make me cry.

6. I will therefore most likely return home to the only people who can put up with me: my dad and my dog.

7. It will hit me that the only people who can put up with me are my dad and my dog.

8. I will cry into my dalmatian comforter. I will blame my dad for all this because he lets me do stupid things like pick dalmatian comforters even though I am practically a grown woman.

9. I will probably wake up and be blind from all the crying.

10. I will live the rest of my life alone in misery.

REASONS I SHOULD GO TO THE BEATUS DANCE.

1. To say sorry to people-if they'll even talk to me?

2. To prove to everyone that I know now that I was wrong.

3. To humiliate myself and get Jess and Danny to like me again.

In the end, Dad practically forced me to go. He said I could try to make things better, not hide from my mistakes blah blah blah.

Whatever. I knew it was because he had date night with Helena. Geez, talk about selfish parenting.

Still, his fake reasons were kind of my real reasons to go. I had to try at least, and the Beatus dance was my last chance before spring break. I sat in an emerald green dress I had bought with Mom-Marianne had offered me a designer one that her stylist suggested, but I didn't want any of that now. After everything that had happened, I wanted to feel as much like the old me as possible. I stared at my two lists. I thought of my plan to make Jess and Danny like me again, and how Marianne had laughed when I had filled her in and told me I was "completely ridiculous" but that she would do everything she could to make it work. I had even had to let Ms. Duke in on it, to make sure it all went smoothly.

I couldn't get out of it now.

I also wanted to see Connor. I admitted it to myself when I burned myself for the fourth time with the curling iron and had to run my hand under cold water. Again.

He had made me want to go to detention all semester. I was able to be completely myself around him. It didn't matter how geeky I sounded; he didn't care. If I said to him, "I love superhero movies," he wouldn't make me feel stupid for saying something so random. He would probably just say, "Me too." Talking to him about things was like talking to a really good friend. Except the good friend also happened to be really cute. And made your hands go really clammy.

I really hoped I could make things okay with him too. Because even if he did like my best friend-well, hopefully best friend if she'd still have me-it didn't mean that we couldn't still hang out. Even if he did make my hands clammy. I was sure I could get the clammy hands thing to stop if he and Jess did start dating. I mean, my hands go clammy whenever I watch Andy Murray play tennis, so I don't think it's a sign of anything much.

I started listing these things to Dog in an effort to get another opinion (put off leaving), and he burped in my face. I knew then it was time to go. I swear no other dogs in the world burp. How come I got stuck with the one who does?

When we pulled up outside the school, I could see all the colored disco lights flashing through the windows and hear the low rumble of the music. I gulped. "Maybe we should go home. I'm already a bit late anyway."

"Nice try, Anna," Dad said, clutching the steering wheel. "Get out of the car and go have a good night. You look lovely."

"Promise you'll pick me up if it all goes wrong and I want to leave in ten minutes?"

"Remember our agreement. You have to give it at least half an hour." He looked at me sternly.

"Fine." I opened the door and climbed out. Just before I shut it, Dad leaned over.

"Good luck, honey," he said with a thumbs-up.

"Dad. Honey? Did you just call me honey?"

"Yeah, I tried to see if I could pull it off, but I can't. It didn't work."

I gave him a weird look, he gave me a weird look in return, and then I shut the door, knowing that he wouldn't leave until I was inside the building.

I couldn't believe how different the school looked when I walked in. It had been completely transformed. The walls were covered in decorations, and on one side of the room there were all these tables with flowers and lanterns. On the right-hand corner of the stage there was a DJ who was bopping to the music and trying to encourage everyone to dance by saying things into the microphone every so often like, "Are we having a good night, party people?"

No one was responding.

I saw Brendan Dakers standing near the entrance with Sophie and a group of boys, his hair gelled back and looking very handsome in his suit and tie. Sophie was wearing a VERY short dress and long sparkly earrings with her hair up. She was watching Brendan as he delivered the punchline to a story he was telling, and she laughed right on cue. For once, I really didn't envy her.

Brendan noticed me walk in and looked mildly ashamed, and for a moment I thought he might come over. So I walked in the opposite direction around the side of the room toward the drinks table. Mrs. Ginnwell was standing with a large bowl of punch.

"What's in this?" I asked cautiously, looking at the purple liquid.

"Enough chemicals to make your brain melt," she said, gesturing to all the multicolored bottles of fizzy drinks and juice behind her. "I threw pretty much a bit of everything in there. You want some?"

I blinked at her and poured myself a normal-looking lemonade. "I'll pass."

I suddenly spotted Jess and Danny at a table. Jess looked absolutely stunning in a black knee-length dress, and she had put her hair up loosely so that strands were falling gracefully around her face. It looked like Danny had not even bothered to tame his hair as it was particularly wild and curly. He was sporting a purple and luminous-green polka-dot bow tie.

I took a deep breath and started walking over. I saw Connor come from behind them and pull out the chair next to Jess. He said something and Jess burst out laughing, leaning in close to him to reply. I stopped in my tracks.

I'd been right. They liked each other, and it was all my fault. I tried to ignore the sick feeling in my tummy and concentrate on the fact that I was here to make it up to Jess. Whatever had happened, that was the important thing tonight.

I stood awkwardly on my own, clutching my lemonade.

"Why are you staring really obviously at those people like some kind of stalker?" a voice said in my ear suddenly.

I spun around to see Marianne. "You're here!" I cried, forgetting myself and lunging at her into a hug.

She patted me on the back, clearly prompting me to loosen my grip. "Of course I'm here. Do you like my disguise? I didn't want to attract too much attention."

I looked her up and down. "Well, you're wearing a long dark coat . . ."

"And hardly any makeup," she pointed out, clearly very pleased with herself. "Plus I have my sunglasses in my pocket just in case."

"I think you'll be okay since it's quite dark in here."

Marianne looked a little disappointed.

"But!" I began enthusiastically. "I'm glad you took precautions. Good work."

I looked back over my shoulder at Jess. "That's who we're here for."

Marianne looked across. "I recognize Jess and Danny from your photos. Who's that guy sitting next to Jess? Is that her date?"

"Um. That's . . . that's Connor."

"Ah, the elusive Connor. Not her date then."

"I don't know actually." I shuffled my feet.

Marianne frowned. "You okay?"

"Yeah, course." I smiled. "So, are they here?"

"They're waiting outside this side door." She pointed to a door by the stage. "You just do your thing."

"I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this. I can't believe it's happening. I hope it works."

"Course it will. And don't worry about it, it's nothing."

I smiled at her gratefully and, after she had given me an encouraging squeeze on my arm, I headed over to Ms. Duke, who was looking sternly around the room, daring someone with her narrowed eyes to break a rule. We spoke, and then she walked onto the stage and brought the DJ to an abrupt stop. Everyone in the hall looked around in confusion. Ms. Duke gave me a sharp nod.

Oh geez. What had I gotten myself into? I glanced briefly toward Jess's table. They were staring toward the stage, trying to work out what was going on. I caught Connor's eye and tried not to get too dizzy as he held my gaze. Then Jess tapped his shoulder and asked him something. Guess I had nothing to lose.

I took a deep breath and stumbled clumsily onto the stage, to the microphone Ms. Duke had placed in the center. I tapped it. It squealed horribly.

"Uh. Hello."

Silence roared through the room. I gulped as the student body stared curiously up at me.

Wow, there were a LOT of people down there.

"I . . . um . . ." I stopped. My whole body was tense. I had completely frozen. I had to do this. Otherwise I was never going to be friends with Jess again. I just had to. "I wanted to announce that in honor of Jess Delby, On the Rox is right outside and will be playing a set for the evening."

Suddenly there was a ripple of whispers, gasps, and giggles. I waited for more excitement to surge toward me, but mostly people looked dubious.

"No really, they're right outside. My stepsister, sort of stepsister, Marianne, whatever. She's just over there. See, she's in the big coat." I pointed at Marianne, who gave a slightly awkward wave. "She helped me to get On the Rox to play here . . . in honor of Jess who . . . who wasn't able to attend their show. Which was my fault. So yeah. Cool."

There was a whoop from a table. Danny was on his feet clapping loudly. Everyone else started to join in, and there was an eruption of applause and chatter as people realized I was telling the truth.

Jess wasn't talking to Connor anymore and instead had slowly leaned back in her seat, arms folded, looking uncertain, skeptical even, about what was going on. She wasn't smiling, but at least she was looking at me.

The more difficult part was still to come. It was now or never.

"Before they come and set up, I wanted to give something to Jess. So here it is." I stood in silence for a moment as everyone waited expectantly. I closed my eyes, pretended that I wasn't about to do what I was about to do, and then took another deep breath.

And then I, Anna Huntley, in front of grades six to eight at the Beatus dance, without backing music or any kind of help except a microphone, started singing the title song "Fame" from Fame the Musical.

SPONTANEOUSLY SINGING IN PUBLIC: MOVIES versus Real Life 1. In movies, everyone usually smiles widely, acknowledging how endearing you are. They know that you're making a big gesture. In real life, no one smiles sweetly at you. They look at you like you're a crazy person and beg you to stop just with their eyes.

2. In movies, everyone else joins in. It becomes a wonderful, spontaneous moment of community, euphoria, and affection for those around you, strangers and all. In real life, no one joins in. You continue to sing the entire theme song to Fame the Musical on your own.

3. In movies, the person you're singing to runs up and hugs you/joins in with you/cries poignant tears of gratitude. In real life, the person you're singing to, aka Jess Delby, doesn't do any of the above but instead just starts laughing.

4. In movies, the boy it has taken you all this time to realize you are meant to be with looks at you with love. In real life, the boy you think you are meant to be with, aka Connor Lawrence, looks a bit shocked. And not in a good way.

5. In movies, at the end of the song, everyone applauds you, and there is so much happiness and goodwill that no matter what happens, you, and all those around you who have witnessed this heart-rending and inspirational gesture, know everything is going to be okay. In real life, at the end of the song it is still silent. You nod. Say, "Well that's that. I'm going to leave the stage now," and then you walk off, tripping over your dress as you go. You wonder whether your idea to win back your friends has not only failed but made you lose your dignity as well. You are right to wonder this. It most likely is true.

It was the worst experience of my life. And that includes the time I went on the rapids ride in that water park. Why anyone enjoys being hurled about uncontrollably in water and feeling like they're drowning the entire time is a mystery to me.

It felt like the post-performance silence went on forever. It did go on for a quite a bit, until Marianne ushered in On the Rox and the hall immediately erupted, distracted by the super famous band on stage.

I was shoved to the side as whooping and screaming students literally clambered past each other, trying to get to the front-Brendan Dakers among them, having had plenty of crowd-pushing practice. Tom Kyzer asked everyone to be quiet and then said, "We're here to give you an exclusive performance." The crowd went wild. "But not too long-we can only play a few songs and then we have to hit the road."

Which, you know, kind of took the magic out of the whole thing but whatever. The drummer crashed the cymbals, and they rocketed into their first song of the set.

I craned my neck, looking for Jess among the crowd, but it turned out I was looking in the wrong direction, because she crept up on me from behind, grabbing my arm and spinning me around, crying she was laughing so hard. "What on earth were you THINKING?"

"In case you didn't notice," I said, still very red in the face from my recent humiliation, "I did that for your benefit."

"Well, I have to say you were right. You're a terrible performer. I mean terrible." She smiled.

"Jess, I need to explain about what happened-"

"Don't worry about it." Jess cut me off gently. "Danny talked me through your deranged reasoning. I get what happened and, you know, this totally makes up for the whole show thing. You brought them to my school. Oh and your set was interesting too," she snorted.

"Well, I can't take credit for the band really." I nodded toward Marianne, who Tom Kyzer seemed to be directing all of the song at. "I think the lead singer has a thing for her."

"I think you may be right."

"So, are we . . . okay?" I asked carefully.

"After that display of derangement? Are you kidding? You are a much better entertainer than that guy in the chicken suit who lived next door to Danny." She went quiet, and we both stood there awkwardly, smiling goofily. "Forgiven and forgotten."