Mark rolled his black wheelchair into the school cafeteria, casting furtive glances at those around him as he admired the Christmas decorations. The school was flouting current anti-holiday laws, but they didn't care. Christmas was a time to celebrate, a time of joy. And Mark, for one, was extremely impressed by the middle school's principled stand.

He rolled into the cafeteria, nodding at those who looked at him, but otherwise ignoring them. it was always thus. The boy, so different, had built a shell around himself, one that he could not break down lest he end up hurt. It was best this way, he felt. He was different. Lame. Not good enough. He'd heard it his entire life.

Then he saw her, standing by the Christmas tree with its tinsel and ornaments. Dark haired, smiling, she wore a light shirt and blue jeans. His heart beat quickly in his chest, and he started to roll in the other direction. "Mark!" he suddenly heard. He pretended to ignore her. "MARK!" the call came again, louder.

Suddenly, he felt a hard push against his back, felt her body against the back of his head and her hands on his armrests. "Where are you going?" the girl, Amanda, demanded. "Come dance with me," she ordered. Mark looked up at her, blinked, and blushed. She pushed him onto the dance floor.