Chapter Fourteen
I waited on the fourth floor by the unused common room, absently staring out the window as night fell. The windows faced east, and the pine forest below me was glowing orange, reflecting what must have been a magnificent sunset in the west.
Nothing had been scheduled after class, and dinner was postponed to be included with the dance. We’d had nothing to do but sit in the dorms. Fortunately, anticipation seemed to quell the earlier unrest. I hadn’t seen Isaiah all day, and even Havoc was calm.
Almost all of the V guys were just wearing their uniforms to the dance, though most were a little more cleaned up than usual. Curtis had bought a sports coat and wore it over his usual shirt and tie.
I didn’t want to spend my few points on clothes, but I’d got my tie as straight as I could, and I’d borrowed Curtis’s polish kit to shine my shoes. Now, standing and waiting for Jane, I kind of wished I could have done more.
I heard the click of footsteps behind me.
It was Jane, and she was gorgeous. Her dress was brown and lustrous, like melted chocolate, and it gave her skin a golden hue. Her red hair was pulled up on top of her head, and she wore heels, emphasizing her slender legs. She put the sunset to shame.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“You look good.”
“You too.”
I exhaled and glanced down at my uniform. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t have anything else.”
Jane stepped toward me and I caught a scent of her perfume. It was sweet and subtle, almost like vanilla or honey, but more floral. She didn’t always wear it, but I loved when she did. “I think you look great.”
“Thanks.”
She kissed my cheek and slipped her arm through mine. “Can I hang on to you?” she asked with a giggle. “I’ve never worn heels before.”
I laughed. “You can definitely hang on to me. And you should wear them more often.”
We descended the stairs slowly. Feeling Jane on my arm made me forget about my problems.
That feeling was shattered when we got to the cafeteria. As expected, the banner was a major source of controversy, and just as we were walking in the door Isaiah was standing on a chair to tear it down. He was too late, of course—almost everyone was already at the dance and had seen it. Jane and I smiled and walked into the room.
Music was playing, loud enough that it was a little hard to hear each other. I didn’t know most of the songs, but I didn’t care. Jane and I walked out onto the dance floor and she put her arms around my neck.
“I’ve never been to a dance back in the real world,” she said. To be able to hear her I had to keep my cheek almost against hers. “Is this anything like those?”
“Not sure,” I said. “I went to a few of the casual dances, but never anything like prom.”
“How come?”
I shrugged. “Never had a girlfriend.”
As I said it, I wondered what that sentence implied. If I’d never been to a dance because I didn’t have a girlfriend, but I came to this dance…
It suddenly struck me that there was no way the security cameras or microphones could hear what we were talking about. We could say anything. We could plan an escape or talk about what detention really was. She could tell me about those fifteen people who had been here when she’d come—I’d never asked her.
It could wait. I held her a little tighter.
Even on the dance floor, all the students stayed with their gangs. The V’s hung out at the back by the outside doors—someone had propped them open to let the cool night air inside. The girls had all spent points on dresses, and they all looked completely different without their usual uniforms. Gabby wore something blue and shimmery that showed off her legs. Tapti’s clothes were traditional, from whatever country she was from; I had no idea which. Carrie was gorgeous, all smiles and laughter. No one could have guessed we were all prisoners.
The other gangs were dressed up, too. The Society, which always looked a little overdone to begin with, now looked like characters in an old black-and-white gangster movie. The girls wore long elegant gowns and perfect, intricate hairdos, and the guys were all in tuxedos. It must have cost a lot of points.
Havoc wasn’t as uniform in their style, but almost all of them had new, intricate tattoos and too much jewelry.
But the longer we danced the less I cared. I wasn’t looking around the room anymore, nervously watching for Oakland or Skiver or trying to count Isaiah’s guards. It felt less important now. My arms were around Jane, my hands on her soft, warm back. I could feel her breath on my neck, her cheek brushing mine.
When the lights turned up a little brighter and dinner was announced, we didn’t move. Even when the music was shut off, Jane and I stayed on the dance floor, not wanting it to end.
Jane sighed, and I squeezed her tightly, pulling her against me.
“Time to eat,” I finally said.
“Do we have to?”
“I think they’re waiting for us.”
Dinner was served on a long table at the side of the hall. Understandably, Havoc hadn’t wanted to spend time in the kitchen, so most of the food had been pre-prepared and was served cold—several kinds of salads, finger sandwiches, fresh fruit, cheese plates. It didn’t seem like a typical formal dinner, but we weren’t going to complain. As I looked up and down the table, I hadn’t ever seen this many Maxfield students looking this happy.
After dessert was served, Curtis stood and shouted for everyone to be quiet.
He raised his drink. We were all drinking soda, which was a luxury. “I’d like to propose a toast,” he said, as the group quieted. I glanced at Isaiah, halfway down the table. Not surprisingly, he looked suspicious.
“To Havoc for this awesome dinner,” Curtis began. After a moment of astonishment, cheers erupted up and down the table.
“To the Society, for handling the administration of all this,” he continued. I had no idea what he meant, and I don’t think anyone else really did either, but people cheered. Maybe it was the best compliment he could give them—something vague.
“And to Carrie,” he said. There were cheers and laughs, and Skiver made a gagging noise.
Mouse stood up, raising her cup. Her dance attire was somewhere in between a dress and lingerie. I definitely hadn’t seen it in the catalog—she must have made it. “And to the V’s for the decorations.” More applause.
Jane was on her feet before I knew it. “And to Lily Paterson.”
The table exploded, many standing and cheering, and others booing and yelling. I stood and put my arm around Jane’s waist and joined her in the toast. It was too chaotic now for anyone to drink in unison—many in the Society section had put their cups down—but Jane and I clinked our glasses. A few moments later, the relative calm of the dinner lost, the table was pushed back to the side of the hall and the music resumed.
I was helping shift chairs in the crowd when someone touched my arm. I turned to see Becky. She was wearing a floor-length black dress, her hair curled and twisted like springs.
“Hey, Becky,” I said, as I continued to move the chairs.
“Hi, Bense.” She took my arm to stop me.
I looked back at her, waiting for her to say something, but she seemed reluctant.
“What’s up?” I said, having to shout a little to be heard over the music.
She leaned in. “I just wanted to say that I agree with you and Jane. Some people think that Lily deserved it, but I don’t.”
I looked into her eyes and she stared back.
She stammered. “I—I just wanted you to know.”
Before I could reply, she’d turned and left, pushing her way through the crowd.
