Parker watched her from across the room. While her friends were around her, she was chatting, animated and laughing. During the upbeat songs, they were on the dance floor in a group. As the tempo of the songs slowed, guys asked her friends to dance, leaving her alone. She either stood leaning against the wall or sat in a chair in a corner. She watched the couples with her arms crossed. She rubbed her arms with her hands.

He held his breath as he watched her rise and take a deep breath. She walked to the right side of the room and stopped in front of a young man. She spoke, the young man spoke and she turned away, her face flushed and downcast as she returned to a chair in the corner. No sooner had she sat down, then the young man she had spoken to entered the dance floor with another girl.

He released his breath. What was the problem? She wasn’t repulsive. Of course, she wasn’t what all of the magazines wanted guys to believe was “the perfect” girl either. But she was pretty.

When her friends returned, they spoke and she shook her head. This time she remained seated as her friends danced in a group.

When the next slow song began, he pulled himself away from the wall he had been leaning on and walked across the room. He stopped in front of her. When she looked up, he smiled and reached a hand toward her. “Would you like to dance?”

His heart lurched as she hesitated. “Are you sure?” Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

“I am quite sure.” He took her hand, led her to the dance floor and held her in his arms.