“Connie,” I say in the most solemn voice I can manage as I grip her hands tight, “I would love to be your girlfriend.” She’s beaming at me, and as if on cue, we both start squealing at exactly the same time. I straighten up and pull her to her feet. We throw ourselves into a hug, jumping up and down on the creaky floorboards and drowning out the dull thump of the music inside.
