He was making her feel small again. She wanted to shrink down into her mug, where he couldn't look at her anymore - not that he was looking at her, anyways. Zelda flicked her gaze over past the railing. It seemed as if everyone else was having fun, and then there was just her, desperately saddened (yet again!) by a man who would forget her in just a few days.

Maybe it was that he was talking about dancing. After the summer and fall, dancing just reminded her of Mr. Jameshill... And she was trying very hard not to think about him anymore, no matter what the situation with Mr. Darrow was.

So she took a sip of her mug before she replied. "I haven't yet," she admitted, "I'm usually rather skittish about dancing."

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