She turned left at the corner and into the hallway that led down the gym. The
corridor was dim where she was, just the light coming under the doors from the
classrooms. But she could see flashing lights at the end of the hall by the gym entrance.
Police cars? No, these were multicolored lights, like Christmas lights but brighter and bigger.
The music grew louder the closer she walked. It was clearly coming from the
gym. Still no sign of anyone. All she needed was a fog machine, and she'd be in
a cheap horror movie.
She approached the doorway, saw someone silhouetted in it. They didn't
have an ax or a running chainsaw, so that ruled out horror movie. And they were
definitely taller than Carol.
The music was loud now, the bass thumping. She could feel it in her chest.
Or was it her heart?
Why you gotta leave me low, honey? Why you gotta steal my fun?
The silhouette didn't move, just stood with his hands crossed in front of him.
It was a man, she could tell now, and even though she couldn't see his face, she
knew he was smiling. She wasn't sure how she knew. Oh. Yes, now she was sure.
Don't do your love, don't do your love, don't dooooooooooooo…your love.
The song finished, but the sound reverberated down the hall for a few
moments before evaporating. A new song started, this one slower and softer, a ballad. Keyboards, lots of bass. Another eighties song?
She was about twenty feet from the figure in the doorway. She could see he
was wearing a suit…no, not a suit. A tuxedo. A white tuxedo. A white tuxedo with wide black-edged lapels, black satin stripes down the pants. Hair parted in
the middle and feathered to the sides. And underneath the smiling face and the
crooked smile was a huge black butterfly bow tie.
It was hideous. It was the eighties. It was beautiful.
It was Peter.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The music bumped and swirled as a more upbeat part of the song kicked in. The
lights behind Peter dimmed, and she could more clearly see the rest of the gym.
Twisted streamers hung from the old basketball hoops, arcing across to the
rafters, where cardboard cutouts of PacMan, Rubik's cubes, and records slowly
turned in the air. Multicolored lights mounted on poles randomly blinked on and
off while a disco ball hanging from the old scoreboard in the center of the ceiling rotated colored squares of light around the room.
“Welcome to the Golden Grove High School Homecoming Dance,” Peter
said. He cocked his head. “Are you arriving without a date, miss?”
Kate had her hand on her mouth, looking left and right, still taking it all in.
“I guess so,” she said.
He stuck out his elbow. “Then it would be totally awesome and rad if you might extend to me the honor of the pleasure of accompanying me to the dance,
which is happening now at”—he checked his watch—“three fifty-five.”
“Post meridium.”
“Post meridium.”
