That night, we danced our hearts out, paying no heed to anyone else. We swayed to the music, You and Me emanating from the speakers. I heard the words, It’s You and Me, and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to prove. But I heard past the lyrics. I heard their meaning. It was me and Liz, and everyone else was insignificant. Their lives were meaningless in comparison. I felt as if a union between me and Liz was forming, a sacred bond. I felt as if we died that night, and were reborn as calmer, kinder entities.

As we danced to the wonderfully romantic song that wafted above our heads, we smiled to each other. The night passed so quickly, a blur of swaying and smiling. At the end, a lot of people had gone home. But we remained. And that song came back on, You and Me, And on an impulse, I pulled her into a deep, heartfelt kiss, oblivious to the few other stragglers who remained at the dance. I had advanced from the nervous wreck, unable to ask out a girl. I had changed because of her, my Liz.