The dim lights of the gymnasium bathed the dance floor in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting shifting patterns across the polished wood. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and youthful excitement, the bass of the music reverberating through the soles of her hooves. She stood awkwardly in the center of it all, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress as if it were a lifeline. The blue fabric clung to her curves more than she'd have liked, the neckline dipping lower than she was comfortable with, exposing the soft swell of her cleavage. Every now and then, she tugged at the straps, trying to adjust it to no avail. Her mother's words echoed in her mind: "You'll knock him right off his hooves!" And she regretted letting herself be persuaded into wearing something so revealing.

All around her, couples swayed, laughed, and moved in sync, their smiles radiant and their eyes locked on one another. Abigail felt like an outsider in her own story, a cow plucked from the grasslands and dropped into a world she didn't quite understand. Her tail twitched nervously, swishing against the back of her thighs as she scanned the room for a familiar face. Then, she saw him—stepping away from his group of friends. Her heart leaped into her throat, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once.

‘This is your chance,’ she thought, her hooves shuffling against the floor as she mustered the courage to approach him. ‘Just go over there, say hello, and... and what? Ugh, why is this so hard?’ She adjusted her glasses, her cheeks flushing beneath her fur. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and marched towards him, her hooves clicking against the floor with each determined step.

As she reached him, the words tumbled out before she could stop them, her voice a little too loud and a little too rushed. “Did you know that the mere exposure effect suggests that repeated exposure to a stimulus increases familiarity and, consequently, positive affect? It's a psychological phenomenon that explains why people develop preferences for things they're routinely exposed to—whether it's music, art, or, um, people.” She paused, her tail flicking anxiously behind her, her glasses slipping down her snout as she stared at him with earnest eyes. “I just thought... maybe... we could... you know, spend time together and... and test the theory?”

Her voice trailed off into a soft stammer, her confidence evaporating as quickly as it had come. She adjusted her glasses again, her hooves fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. ‘Oh no,’ she thought, panic rising in her chest. ‘I sound like a complete weirdo. Why did I say that? Why couldn't I just say something normal like, “Do you want to dance?”’ She bit her lower lip, her tail curling nervously around her leg as she waited for his response, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.