"You too, huh?"

The girl smiled, swirling the liquid in her cup in a lazy motion but one as melancholy as Soul felt. "How can you tell?"

"It's been five minutes since you came to the table and yet you're still hovered over the punch. Normally people would be picking off food, not glaring at the dance floor." He moved in to grab punch of his own but the girl beat him to it, handing an empty cup to him. She waited for Soul to tilt his cup just slightly before filling it half way with a sigh.

"I'm not used to this. Normally I would be in that crowd," she nodded to the center of the room, "but the girl I came with ditched me for another person." Her fingers gripped the plastic tighter and she took another sip, grimacing at the stale taste.

Soul shook his head solemnly, knowing the feeling well since his own date left his side with someone else. But he didn't feel the need to voice his complaints to a stranger, even if she seemed more than open to talk to. Why did he start in the first place? It was unlike himself to say the first word so he blamed his action for sole fact that she happened to have positioned herself in an inconvenient place just over the drinks. Still, he felt like it was necessary to say something in reply.

"I'm kinda used to it. I, uh, don't dance to this music." He rubbed the back of his head. "It's natural for someone to find someone else more... willing, I guess."

"Why? What's wrong with this song?" The girl was side eyeing him, her interest growing. "It peeled half of the sit-downs from the walls and it's better than Chill Trap music.

They were standing close enough that they didn't have to shout to be heard, but Soul found the beat to be too jarring. It banged against his brain and gave him headaches rather than something to enjoy. He moved towards the macaroons with the girl following him to be able to hear his low voice. "I prefer slower songs."

"Fair enough. I'll be pleased to inform you that one more your speed will be playing soon from an inside source."

"And who would that be?"

"Me."

"Ah, committee member?"

"Head."

Soul popped a lemon flavored macaroon into his mouth, waving his hand in a circular motion for her to continue, a silent question asking for her name.

She smiled in response with an eyebrow raised. "Don't tell me you don't know who I am."

Well, shit.

"Am I supposed to?"

He could barely hear the giggles, but her eyes squeezed together and she lifted a hand to cover the full smile on her face. "I guess not." She pointed at the pistachio macaroon in his hand. "Take a guess?"

"You're named after a pastry?"

She snatched it before he could bite down. "Maka. You won't believe the shit I got when we ordered these. 'They match your eyes' they said."

"I can imagine, though it's not as bad as a name like Soul."

Before Maka could respond, the song hushed, transitioning into a slow song just as she said it would. Soul picked out the cream from his teeth using his tongue as he watched couples suddenly emerging from mass, snorting at some of them took "make room for Jesus" too seriously and rolling his eyes at those on their way to see Satan. He was just about to say his goodbyes to Maka and escape to the bathrooms until he spied his date dancing with another girl.

"And there she is. Pfft, what a surprise," he grimaced.

"Tell me about it," Maka said with a sarcastic tone of her own. "Figures Kim would find Jackie in this mess."

Soul raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Kim Diehl? You went with our treasurer?"

"The risk I took was calculated but between you and me, I'm bad at math."

"Nah, I went with Jackie." His eyes met with Maka's. "You wanna-"

"Dance? Oh hell yeah, this is revenge." Once again, she beat him to the punch. Maka set down her empty classy cup and held out her hand for Soul. "You don't happen to know how to tango, do you?"

"Nope. I can lead you in a waltz though."

"Good enough."