The school dance.

The school was lit up like a Christmas tree when we arrived. Coloured lights flashed through the windows of the gymnasium, and the bass from the music was already vibrating through the pavement outside.

A group of students stood around the entrance, taking photos and adjusting their outfits. Some had arrived in limousines, others in cars packed with friends, and a few were still scrambling to fix their hair in the reflection of their phone screens.

Michael climbed out of the car behind me and stretched his arms. “Finally! I’ve been waiting all day to embarrass myself in front of people I have to see on Monday.”

“You don’t need a dance for that,” Lyndsay told him.

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, mate.”

I turned towards Kat, who had been checking her reflection in her phone. Her black dress, studded choker, and matching cuff looked even better beneath the lights outside the school. The corsage on her wrist completed the look. “You look amazing,” I told her.

She glanced up, and her smile was immediate. “Careful. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you actually want to be here.”

“I do want to be here.”

“Good answer.” She slipped her arm through mine, and we headed towards the entrance with the others.

Rebecca walked on my other side, with Carla beside her. I’d expected Rebecca to be her usual bubbly self, but she’d been unusually quiet since we left her house. Every now and then, I caught her looking at Kat’s hand resting on my arm. When she noticed me watching, she quickly looked away.

“You okay?” I asked her.

“Fine.” It was the sort of answer that meant anything but fine.

“You sure?”

Rebecca gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Before I could think of an answer, Carla nudged her and pointed towards the entrance. “Come on. If we don’t get inside soon, Michael’s going to start dancing out here.”

“I have been known to perform for a crowd,” Michael announced.

“Against their will,” Lyndsay added.

We joined the queue at the doors. A couple of seniors were checking names against a list, while a teacher stood nearby keeping an eye on everyone arriving. Then I recognised her. Ms. Holmes. Our media teacher stood beside the entrance in a fitted mint dress, her dark hair breaking free from its pins on just one shoulder. She looked completely different from how she did in the classroom. There, she was usually dressed in long dresses and blouses, with her hair tied back while she moved between the editing stations. Tonight, she looked like she belonged at the sort of event where people spent more time watching her than whatever was happening on stage.

Michael noticed her at the same moment I did. “Oh, this is unfair,” he muttered.

“Behave,” Lyndsay warned him.

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Yet.”

Ms Holmes looked up from the clipboard she was holding. “Gentlemen. I trust you’re planning to behave yourselves tonight?”

“Absolutely, Ma'am,” Michael said, suddenly standing straighter.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “That sounded remarkably unconvincing.”

“I'm wounded.”

“Try not to make me regret letting you in.” She checked our names, then waved us through. “Enjoy yourselves. And remember, I’m a teacher even when I’m not standing in front of a classroom.”

“Yes, Ma'am,” I said.

As we passed, Michael leaned towards me. “I’m going to remember this night for the rest of my life.”

“Because of the dance?”

“Because she spoke directly to me.”

Lyndsay groaned.

Inside, the gymnasium had been transformed. The basketball hoops were hidden behind dark curtains, strings of lights ran along the walls, and a makeshift dance floor occupied the centre of the room. A DJ stood behind a table at one end, mixing music while coloured spotlights swept over the crowd. The place was already packed.

Kat turned towards me, her eyes bright. “Come on. Let’s get a photo before everyone starts sweating.”

She pulled me towards a decorated backdrop near the entrance. Carla followed, dragging Rebecca along with her. Michael and Lyndsay immediately began arguing over who had to stand in the middle. We eventually managed to get everyone lined up. Kat stood beside me, her arm around my waist. I put mine around her shoulders. Rebecca stood on my other side. Just before the photo was taken, I noticed she’d moved a little closer to me than she needed to.

The camera flashed.

“Let me see!” Carla demanded.

Everyone crowded around the screen. Kat laughed at the picture, pointing out Michael’s ridiculous expression, while Lyndsay complained that he’d ruined what would otherwise have been a perfectly good photo.

Rebecca barely looked at it. “You two look good together,” she said, nodding towards Kat and me.

“Thanks,” Kat replied, sounding pleased.

Rebecca’s smile tightened. “I just meant the outfits. Very coordinated.”

“Total accident,” I said.

“Sure.” She turned away before I could read anything more into her expression.

I watched her go, feeling an uncomfortable tug of guilt. I’d done nothing wrong. Kat was my date, and Rebecca had known that from the beginning. So why did I feel as though I’d disappointed her?

“Hey.” Kat squeezed my hand. “You promised me a good night.”

I looked back at her. “I did.”

“Then stop looking like you’ve lost your wallet.”

I laughed, and she pulled me towards the dance floor. For a while, I let myself forget about Rebecca. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and Kat was smiling at me. I allowed myself to get swept up in the music and the moment. Kat did too. Dancing closer than I’d expected until we were practically joined as one.

When the music switched from up tempo pop songs to something a little bit slower, Kat and I took the chance to escape the dancefloor for now. We were both sweating from our movements and the heat coming from everyone around us. I tried to fan some air down the front of my dress shirt as Kat wafted her hand against her glistening forehead. Moving away, I leaned against the wall beside the entrance, grateful for the cooler air drifting in every time someone opened the doors.

“Okay,” Kat said, fanning herself again. “I take back every bad thing I said about your dancing.”

“Every bad thing? That’s a pretty low bar.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

She smiled and leaned back against the wall beside me. Her cheeks were flushed from dancing, and a few strands of dark hair had escaped whatever arrangement she’d spent time putting together earlier.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” she said.

I looked at her. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“I thought you might find some excuse to disappear. You did seem pretty keen to forget the dance existed.”

“Yeah. I deserved that.”

“You did.” She nudged my shoulder with hers. “But you made an effort. The outfit, the flower, actually showing up. I noticed.”

I felt myself smiling. “Well, I’m glad.”

Across the room, Rebecca stood with Carla near the drinks table. Carla was talking animatedly, but Rebecca’s attention seemed to be elsewhere. When she caught me looking, she turned away and took a drink.

Kat followed my gaze. “Are you going to spend the whole night checking on her?”

The question caught me off guard.