THE SCHOOL DANCE STRESSES ME out. and it's NOT because I won't have a date.

It is actually because school dances highlight the dictation of a dominating society on a youthful generation to locate a suitable partner of similar social standing with whom to spend the evening, not based on intellectual or personality compatibility, but on visual attraction alone. School dances are a staple of the dominant ideology in which we live, serving only the interest of a certain elite platform of students to exert their superiority and their peer influence, thus maintaining the existing state of the school's social context.

OKAY, FINE, it's because I'll never find a date.

Ever since the semester started, everyone has been talking about this Beatus dance, which takes place at the end of the spring semester. It's for grades six to eight and apparently is kind of like a smaller version of the prom.

"What on earth is the Betty dance?" I'd asked Jess one afternoon when I overheard for the third time that day someone in the bathroom talking about who was going to be elected for the committee.

"It's the Beatus dance, you mongoose." Jess laughed.

"It means 'blessed' or 'fortunate' in Medieval Latin, Anna," Danny explained gently, giving Jess a shove. This was typical Danny behavior, always on hand to remind Jess when to be a little more patient.

I once told him that I thought he was probably one of the nicest people I had ever met. "And your hair complements that." I smiled.

"Huh?" He automatically ran a hand through his thick blond curls that really are spectacular.

"I think when it comes to you, Danny," I'd said matter-of-factly, "your hair reflects your kindness and comforting nature."

That didn't actually go down too well. It turns out boys don't really strive to be kind and comforting. Danny, Jess had informed me after he'd left grumpily, gets tired of always being "the nice one" who girls want to be friends with.

The very next day after the curls comment I made sure to say, immediately as he walked in, "Danny! You look very rugged today. I think it's the way you're carrying your backpack on one shoulder." I ignored the muffled snigger of Jess next to me and continued with the confidence boost. "Seriously, something very manly going on there."

He looked surprised-but I've noticed he's carried his backpack on one shoulder ever since.

"It used to be called the spring dance for lower grades," Danny had continued.

Meanwhile Jess smiled at me and muttered, "Betty dance. Honestly!" under her breath.

"Our last principal picked the name because, as she continually reminded us, the lower grades were very lucky to have a dance at all when most schools just have a senior dance."

"She had to give it a Latin name to try to make it sound boring and educational." Jess grinned.

"Sounds fun to me."

"Not really." Jess shrugged. "It's really just an excuse for people like Sophie Parker to show off."

"Oh come on." Danny laughed. "You had a good time last year."

"The highlight was when you fell over on the dance floor."

"I did not fall over," Danny protested, going bright red. "I was doing the worm."

"Do you go with a . . . date?" I asked timidly, pretending not to really care.

"Most people do. Danny and I just went together." Jess sighed. "Although I pretended I didn't know him when he fell over."

"I told you, I was doing the worm!"

"It didn't look like the worm. It looked like you fell over and had hurt your hip or something."

I had worried about the dance all during Christmas vacation. If Jess and Danny were going to go together again, who would I go with? They weren't going to want a tagalong.

Now that I've set a girl on fire, I don't think my chances of getting a date are much improved.

I did consider putting a bow tie on Dog and going down the comedy route, but then I decided that I should play it safe, and if I was going to bring anyone they should probably be human.

Sophie Parker and Josie Graham are representing our grade on the Beatus committee of course. This means that they have to give up some of their lunch breaks to stand behind a table and sell raffle tickets to try to raise money for the dance budget. The prize is a two-week internship over spring break with Brendan's mom, who is a photographer.

"Your dad should have offered an internship," Jess commented, as we watched Sophie and Josie giggle with some other pretty girls in our grade who were buying plenty of tickets each. "Everyone would have bought tickets then, not just the school's princess contingent."

I snorted. "Sadly you exaggerate. I hardly think anyone at this school is interested in tanks."

"Whatever-he interviews celebrities all the time."

"I guess." I shrugged. "Most of the time he just sits at home yelling about writer's block and standing still with his forehead against the wall. He says it helps him think. He can stand there for about half an hour. Once I stood with him with my forehead against the wall to see what happened. I got no inspiration whatsoever. We both just stood there in silence with our heads touching the wall until I finally got hungry and left him to it. Not sure an intern would be a good idea."

"They're so embarrassing." Jess shook her head as Josie took out a pocket mirror and admired herself. "I bet Sophie has already bought half the tickets. The idea of getting in there with Brendan's family will be the only thing she cares about. She couldn't care less about the internship."

"Why don't you buy a raffle ticket? You're pretty good at photography."

Jess burst out laughing. "Yeah, on my camera phone. Not sure that counts."

"Go on, it's only a dollar a ticket, and if you win, I bet you'd get to go on some cool fashion shoots too. You'd be great!"

I wasn't lying. Jess is good at photography; she has a framed photo on her wall at home that she won a competition with when she was younger. Plus she is artistic too; her mom has shown me some of her paintings.

I made sure that when Jess came over to my house for the first time, Dad hid my pottery attempts that he usually displays on the mantel. Not proudly, he always likes to tease me, but because they are excellent conversation starters. I don't protest this. My Christmas robin is quite literally a blob of clay with a red circle in the middle.

"Anna." Jess sighed. "They won't be looking for someone like me, will they? I'm sure Brendan's mom will be much happier with someone like Sophie who can hang on to her every word and look the part."

"You look the perfect part," I said sharply. "Come on; if you don't get one, then I'll buy one for you."

She finally gave in to my pestering, and we made our way over to the table. Sophie saw us approaching and nudged Josie in the ribs, who looked up and immediately scowled. "What do you want?" she spat, folding her arms.

"I'm so sorry about chemistry, Josie," I squeaked, feeling genuinely bad. "If there's anything I can do-"

"Personally," Jess interrupted chirpily, "I think your hair looks much better that length, Josie."

"That hardly makes things okay," Sophie replied angrily, tilting her head.

"Yes." Josie pouted, taking her cue as ever from Queen Sophie. "There's nothing you can do about it now."

"Great, glad that's all sorted," Jess said firmly. "Now, I'd like to buy a raffle ticket please."

Sophie's mouth dropped open. "You. You would like to buy a raffle ticket."

"Yes, one please."

"But"-Josie sniggered, looking her up and down-"you clearly don't care about . . . the way things look."

Jess's cheeks started to go red.

"I'm not really sure it's your thing, Jess," Sophie said with a tone of mock regret and then shrugged. "I wouldn't bother buying a ticket. It's professional photography."

Jess looked at the ground, embarrassed, and I'm really not quite sure what came over me, but suddenly words were coming out of my mouth.

"Ten tickets please."

They all stared at me in shock. "Yeah, ten." I repeated in a squeakier tone than I would have liked. I reached into my purse and held out the money.

Sophie snorted and Josie followed suit, but there was now a small line beginning to form behind me. Josie looked at Sophie for instruction. Sophie pursed her lips and gave a curt nod. Josie snatched the money and shoved the tickets across the table.

I walked away triumphantly, my heart slamming against my chest.

"Well, what do you know." Jess grinned as I passed her the tickets. She gave me a small grateful nudge. "Thanks."

Sitting in French later that afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about the Beatus dance. What would happen if they didn't let me in because I didn't have a date? Even worse, what would happen if they did let me in, but then everyone was dancing in pairs and I was the ONLY one not dancing?! What would happen if everyone started pointing and laughing at me because I was so pathetic?! WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I GENUINELY DID HAVE TO BRING DOG AS MY DATE?!

This called for emergency note passing with Jess.

Hey-can I ask you a question?

Anna, you're passing notes in French? Are you crazy?! She'll catch us! Ms. Brockley is very smart-she does archery in her spare time.

It's important.

Okay, go on then, ask away.

Would you date me?

What?

If you were a boy, would you date me?

This is uncomfortable.

No it's not. I need to know.

Well I don't know. Probably not.

WHAT? WHY NOT?.

Because of your obsession with your dog. He's cute and everything but you're out of control.

Do I talk about Dog a lot?

Yes. But maybe not so much around boys so they might not know about the obsession, which is a good thing. You could keep it under wraps until you marry the guy and then, BOOM. Let out the truth about your weirdness.

Oh. Okay.

Why does it bother you so much that you don't have a date? It's just a dance. Who cares?

It is not just a dance. Everyone is talking about it. And it's only the beginning of the semester so it will get worse leading up to it.

I don't have a date.

You have Danny. And anyway you CHOOSE not to have a date. I bet every boy in our grade would do anything to be your date to the Beatus dance.

You have Danny too. We'll go as a trio.

What about the slow dances?

What ABOUT the slow dances?

We can't dance as a trio!

Why not?

BECAUSE. That would look weird. How would you even do that?

We could all hold hands in a circle and sway.

Like some kind of cult? I don't think that would go over very well.

We could chant too.

I can tell you're making fun of me now. I don't know whether you've noticed but I am actually being serious.

Why do you get so worked up about stupid things like this? It's a DANCE. Only people like Sophie get worked up about stupid things like this.

People like Sophie never get worked up about things like this. They don't need to. She doesn't need to ever worry about having a date. I bet she's going with Brendan Dakers.

Word on the street is that he hasn't asked her. Anyway, forget about Queen Sophie. Why don't you take Dog as your date?

Ha! Jess, you really do have the most bizarre brain! As if that would even occur to me as an idea!

You considered it, didn't you?

What?! You're ridiculous. Of course I did not consider taking Dog as my date to the Beatus dance.