“Hello.”

Glynda turned away from her locker. Standing there to her left, looking like he would bolt at any moment, was a boy, dark haired and rather lanky, though he had a solid looking jaw, Glynda noted.

“Yes,” she said, “what is it?”

The boy fidgeted, not bothering to meet her gaze.

“Well, since the dance is coming up, and I was wondering if you wanted…not that I expect you to say yes…but if you wanted to…”

“Spit it out.” Glynda said, trying not to be curt as she closed her locker.

The boy took a deep breath, composing himself, and then looked her dead in the eye.

“Would you like to go to the dance with me?”

Would she? No-one had asked her and Glynda had resolved to spend the night in her dorm studying. But then again, most of the people she knew would be there, so…

“Alright.”

“I guess I shou—wait what?”

“I said yes. Don’t look so surprised.”

The boy’s face shifted into a wide grin, one that threw Glynda for a loop. How could someone’s smile make them that attractive.

“That—that’s great!” the boy said, “I’ll come to your dorm at seven. How’s that sound?”

“Seven’s fine,” Glynda said, trying to will her heart to stop it’s acrobatics.

The boy turned and jogged down the hallway. What had she gotten herself into? She’d have to find a dress, eat crow since she’d told her friends she wasn’t going…

Wait, she didn’t even know that boy’s name!

“I can’t believe it,” she overheard a fellow student say, “James Ironwood asked Grumpy Glynda Goodwitch to the dance.”

James Ironwood. So that was his name.

And who were they calling grumpy?