“How exactly are we going to do this? Get inside there, I mean?”

I gestured to the school gym, where crowds of fancily dressed students were now entering. The sun had already started to set, and we all looked too conspicuous milling around the Wilburton High School parking lot in our street clothes. Someone needed to make a decision about how we would accomplish our recruiting mission, and soon.

It didn’t surprise me that Annabel had her own overly confident idea.

“We just do it,” she said brashly. “Barge in and get as many people to follow us outside as we can.”

“Including half the faculty?” I asked, shaking my head. “If we just go ahead and crash the prom like we’re a freaking biker gang, we’re going to draw way more attention than we want.”

Annabel scowled at me, but I could tell that she also saw my point. We were still staring each other down when someone else interjected an idea.

“Why don’t we just wait here, and Amelia and Joshua go inside? They can pretend to attend the dance for a little while and then lure our friends outside to the keg.”

Everyone turned to Jillian, who was leaning against Scott’s car with her arms folded across her chest. Her suggestion was simple and therefore perfect. Why overwhelm our possible helpers with unfamiliar faces, when we could just give them Joshua? That way, we at least had a shot at recruiting the girls of Wilburton High.

Everyone else began to nod agreement. Yet Jillian herself didn’t look pleased with her own idea—she frowned heavily, and her eyes occasionally darted to Scott with a clear look of yearning.

“Why don’t four of us go?” I suggested with feigned indifference. “Jillian and Scott, me and Joshua? That way we can cover more ground once we’re inside.”

“Even better,” Jillian said quickly, and a little too eagerly. When the rest of the group gave their assent, she flashed me a small, barely concealed smile. I just nodded in response; it was the least I could do, considering what I would ask of her in a few hours.

As Annabel and her crew took their positions between Joshua’s truck and their nearby cars, I slipped my arm through Joshua’s and then glanced up at him. He smiled down at me, but the expression was tinged with too much sadness for me to return it. So I tugged him onward, looking back every now and then to make sure Jillian and Scott followed.

Although we made it across the parking lot without incident, we encountered our first problem at the entrance to prom. There, a vaguely familiar woman occupied the gym’s ticket booth, allowing those students who had prepaid inside and charging a slightly higher admission to those who hadn’t. When Joshua approached her with enough money for four tickets, the woman scowled down at him.

“Mr. Mayhew,” she said disdainfully, “I see you’ve put as much effort into tonight’s outfit as you normally put into your homework.”

I recognized her then: it was Ms. Wolters, Joshua’s surly Calculus teacher. I hadn’t seen her in person since I helped him through a differential equation last fall, although I’d seen plenty of her brutal homework assignments.

Joshua was still mumbling an excuse about our clothing when I plucked the money from his hands. Releasing my arm from his, I strolled up to the ticket booth with a saccharine smile.

“Ms. Wolters, is it? Joshua has told me so much about you—particularly about your class, in which he now holds the highest grade.”

The old woman eyed me suspiciously. “So far. But graduation is still a month off.”

“Well, with your excellent teaching skills, I don’t doubt that he’ll maintain that grade.” Then I leaned forward and lowered my voice so that only she could hear it. “And if he doesn’t . . . well, maybe the school board needs to know about that bottle of booze in your desk drawer?”

I had no idea whether or not Ms. Wolters drank on the job—it was just a blind guess. And a lucky one, judging by the stricken look in her eyes. Still wearing a sickly sweet smile, I slid Joshua’s money across the counter toward her.

“Four tickets to the prom, please,” I said loudly.

Ms. Wolters’s hands shook slightly as she took the cash, but I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for her. I flashed her one more sugary smile—as a warning—and then rejoined my companions to move toward the prom entrance.

When we were out of earshot, Joshua whispered, “What did you say to her to make her shut up so fast?”

I laughed softly and took his hand in mine. “I just told her that if she needed help counting the bills, you could do it. Since you’re so good at math and all.”

Joshua laughed like he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he pulled me closer and guided me through the double doors into his high school gym.

Although it had started getting darker outside, it still took my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer interior of the building. Once they did, I let out a small gasp of awe.

On some level, I knew that Joshua and I now stood in the Wilburton High gym, staring at a spectacle made mostly out of Mylar and strings of old Christmas bulbs. But if I squinted just right, this place was pure magic—a fairyland of shimmering dresses, twinkling lights, glitter-strewn tabletops, and oversized arrangements of white carnations.

“Wow,” I breathed as Joshua and I wove our way through the already-crowded tables near the dance floor, with Jillian and Scott following closely behind. “Is the prom always this pretty?”

“I don’t know,” he called out above the thumping music. “I’ve never seen one before.”

I glanced quickly at him, surprised. “Really? You didn’t go to prom your junior year?”

“Really.”

“Why not?”

“Because you and I didn’t meet until this fall.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes and pretending like he didn’t just make me go a little gooey-happy inside. Not that it was too hard a task for Joshua to accomplish.

Even knowing what lay in store, I couldn’t help but notice how deep the midnight blue of his eyes looked under the sparkling lights that hung in swoops above the gym floor.

With a sigh, I moved closer to him as he led our group toward a long, banquet-style table near the back of the gym, where Kaylen, O’Reilly, and their respective entourages had set up camp. We were still a few feet away but I could see two of the girls I’d met at Kaylen’s party, flanking boys who already looked a little drunk. Chelsea, under her layers of pink tulle and sequins, kept leaning forward to share annoyed glances with Mya, who looked lovely in an understated blue silk sheath dress.

Their glances shifted from annoyed to surprised when they caught sight of us approaching the table. I could almost feel their amused appraisal of my top, my jeans, my boots: nothing I wore tonight was prom appropriate, and we all knew it.

Luckily, Joshua’s guy friends couldn’t have cared less what he wore to prom; they were obviously pleased that he’d actually decided to come. O’Reilly waved to us first, booming loudly across the table.

“Mayhew, dude! And Scott, and Jilly-bean! Why don’t y’all grab some seats with us?”

Joshua and I exchanged a look, and I shrugged. What could it hurt if we stayed, just for a few minutes?

As if he’d read my thoughts, Joshua pulled out a free chair across from Kaylen and O’Reilly, who apparently had come to prom together. Good for O’Reilly, I thought, settling into my seat as Joshua took the one next to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jillian rush over to chat with Chelsea and Mya; noticing how happy Jillian looked just to be here, I smiled a little.

While Joshua chatted with his friends, he reached over casually and wrapped his arm around my waist so that he could drag my chair—and me—closer to him. He left his hand at my waist, so I reached for it, entwining my fingers with his. I laid my head on his shoulder, absently listening to his conversation and gazing around the sparkling gym.