Her face was shining, a bright light. “Thanks.”
He released her, reluctantly, then gestured with his head towards the gym floor. “Guess we better go start packing up.”
She nodded. “Guess so.” They began walking towards the stage stairs.
“I wouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Wells will want your piece for her personal
art gallery,” Peter said, trying to be encouraging.
Katie's eyebrows raised. “You think so?”
They'd reached their tables. Peter walked over to her mobile, still spinning slowly, delicately. He nodded. “Absolutely. Who knows? Some wealthy
industrialist might see it, offer you a thousand dollars.”
“Only a thousand?” she joked.
“Sorry, one hundred thousand. And a tour of Europe.”
“That's more like it,” she said, approaching his table with the rocket that had
earned him second prize.
Having her here, so close, beaming at him, felt like a much bigger prize. She
looked like a field of yellow flowers. He could feel her warmth as she stood a foot from him, smelling like heaven. Lucky You.
You got that right. It was all very unscientific and unnerving and fantastic.
She was waiting, smiling, glowing in her victory. Do it now, he thought.
What better possible time could there be?
“So, um…” he began, then swallowed. Her face was the picture of
expectancy, eyebrows up slightly, brown eyes sparkling. “I was wondering, if you weren't already going…with someone else…if you wanted to go to
homecoming? With me?”
Her face beamed brighter, if that were possible. She nodded. “Yes—” she started to say.
There was a commotion behind them. He looked past Katie's shoulder.
Penny Fitch was talking with two of the judges at Katie's table. They were
bent towards her, faces intent, nodding as they listened.
He heard the words “Peter Clark” and “rules” and possibly “disqualified.”
Something danced and dropped in his stomach. Katie must have seen his face because her own lost its smile.
“Miss Brady? Mr. Clark? Could you come here, please?” One of the judges,
Mr. Riley, the football coach, was motioning them over.
Peter looked at Katie, then walked over, feeling as if he were being asked into the principal's office. Which had never happened. Katie followed beside him, face puzzled.
Mr. Riley gestured at Penny, who was standing next to him and to another judge, Mrs. Wells. Penny was looking everywhere except at Peter and Katie.
“We have to ask you a few questions, Peter. You too, Katie.”
“Okay,” Peter said, sweat breaking out on his palms.
Mr. Riley rubbed the back of his neck and focused on Peter. “Miss Fitch has
informed us that you may have, willingly or unwillingly, broken one of the rules
of the fair.”
Katie's eyes widened. “What rule?” she asked, her body tensing.
Mr. Riley looked at Mrs. Wells, who only smiled weakly and wrung her
hands in front of her.
“The rule about having utilized outside help,” Mr. Riley said.
Katie lifted her chin. “Peter wouldn't do anything wrong with his project.”
