أمل.

“Nate came into the room and kicked the door half closed behind him. "Here's the thing. You've gone kind of psycho. I have never willingly gone to a dance in my life. But I am doing this because you are my friend, okay? And something is wrong with you. I don't want to go to this, obviously. And you don't want to go to this. I'm doing this for you, for your own good. This is the one and only time I'm offering to do something like this. Sometimes you have to leave the fucking Shire, Frodo. If we're friends, get up, and come with me now. And you should take that seriously, because you are kind of losing friends all over the place."
He extended his hand to her.
"You're serious."
"I'm serious."
She looked down at her lists and up at Nate.
"You're wearing a tie," she said.
"I know."
"Is that a dance thing?"
"How would I know? Do I look like I go to a lot of dances?"
Stevie felt like she was made of concrete and attached to the floor. But seeing Nate there, seeing the effort he was going to, she felt her moorings come loose.”
― Maureen Johnson, Truly, Devious