Part 20 (1/2)

Some people were disappointed that the homecoming dance didn't have a live band or a cutting-edge light system.

Not me.

Nothing could spoil my perfect evening. Not the canned music, not the c.r.a.ppy food, not the high-level security of teachers and parents making sure no couples got close on the dance floor, let alone got jiggy. But I was too busy shaking my dress and my stuff. In the small s.p.a.ce between Jared's tuxedoed body and heaven.

It didn't get any better than this-or so I thought.

The DJ's voice cut through the speakers. ”We have a request for an oldie,” he said, and the overhead lights flickered a couple of times. ”From one best friend to another.” Without a musical intro came the oh-so-familiar voice of Paul McCartney.

A laugh snaked its way up my throat, and I scanned the sea of faces for a particularly familiar one, undoubtedly smiling under her beauty-parlor halo of red curls.

Jared pulled me and my scrumptious layers of crinoline to his chest. One hundred percent oblivious to the song's pity party significance to me. And driving home the fact that even though Jared and I had been A Recognized Couple for almost a month, Alison and I still had our best-friend secrets.

His body moved in rhythm with the music, with me, with my heart. Snuffing out the painful memories by making new ones.

I closed my eyes. No more thinking.

When the song ended, I opened them to see Alison smirking at me. ”I thought you'd like that,” she said, and grabbed my arm, laughing. ”Come on, let's go to the girls' room.”

A doubtful frown creased Jared's brow, and he looked at Alison's date, Chas Zachary. (After making next to no official progress with Chas, Alison had finally asked him to the homecoming dance. And he'd been hanging on her like a lovesick puppy ever since. Which goes to show that sometimes crushes are made, not born.) ”Why do I feel like I'm missing something?” Jared asked Chas.

Chas shrugged.

Alison's smile widened. ”Girl stuff.”

I gave Jared's arm a be-right-back squeeze and followed her through the gyrating bodies.

The cool hallway air was a welcome relief on my skin, but the bathroom was packed, with some girls primping in front of sinks and mirrors, others in a wiggling line for the stalls. Still, it was fun to see everyone so decked out, to examine one another's dresses in full light.

While we waited, Alison told me that Harrison had gotten his b.u.t.t thrown out for being drunk. I hadn't seen it but didn't doubt it, either. I'd smelled alcohol on a bunch of people tonight.

Which was plain stupid to me. Was it really worth the risk of being thrown out?

A stall opened. A vision in fluffy lavender emerged-in a dress so captivating that it took me several seconds to glance at the face attached to it. To recognize Zoe.

”OmiG.o.d, Zoe, you look so beautiful!” I gushed, and gave her a quick hug.

She beamed. ”So do you!”

I leaned in, lowering my voice to confidentially low. ”I'm so glad the dance worked out for you.”

She smiled. ”Almost didn't. The dress, I mean.” She leaned in closer. ”I got lucky-”

A retch and spew from inside one of the stalls stopped our conversation-and all noise. Gazes raced around the bathroom. Arched brows. Smiles. And then names being silently mouthed.

I nudged Alison. She shrugged.

Then a voice, high and loud. ”My dress! Oh G.o.d, my dress!” The stall door cracked open.

Heath Ledger himself couldn't have pulled me from my front-row seat. I was pretty sure I recognized that voice. ...

Kylie staggered out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Littered over a beaded top and flowing chiffon were brown stains and ... chunks. ”This is a disaster, a frigging disaster!” she slurred. ”What if I'm homecoming queen?”

I laughed. Out loud. Then covered my mouth. Real quick. And then I turned to Alison. ”Where's your camera phone now?”