"But you're a ballerina," he says. "You dance." 
 I stare at him. "How did you know that? Did you read my mind about that, too?" 
 He scoffs. "No. I listened. With my ears, and stuff. You told me, last year at prom. Which I thought was strange since you kept stepping on my feet." 
 Hello, embarrassing. "Well, I never said I was a good dancer." 
 omg