He goes to the living room to mingle with Vanessa

He is on his second drink when she appears at his elbow. No preamble, no excuse. She simply materializes from somewhere in the crowd, still in the black dress, looking like she traded the formal version of herself for something considerably more interesting the moment she walked through the door.

She nods toward the living room.

Vanessa: Come.

Not a question. He follows.

The living room is packed and dark and the music is the kind that makes thinking optional. She leads him to the middle of the floor, turns around, and steps back against him without any particular ceremony. Her hands find his and place them on her hips.

They move.

She rolls her hips slowly against him, unhurried and deliberate, completely at ease in her own body. He tightens his hands on her waist and she presses back slightly in response.

Vanessa: A prom king should know how to treat his queen properly.

Miles: And does he?

She tilts her head back against his shoulder, her lips close to his jaw.

Vanessa: So far.

Miles: Just so far?

Vanessa: She glances back at him. The night is still young.

She turns to face him, one hand flat against his chest.

Vanessa: I want to talk to you later. Alone.

Miles: About?

She steps back into the crowd with a small smile.

Vanessa: You will find out.