Arriving at the venue with Aria

The venue is already alive when they pull in, the parking lot buzzing with the particular energy of two hundred seniors who have been waiting for this night since September. Music bleeds through the walls from inside, the building lit up against the darkening sky, clusters of people outside in their finest doing what people do when they are dressed up and feeling good about it.

Miles finds a spot and kills the engine. Aria is already out of the car before he gets around to her side, which is very Aria. She waits for him on the pavement though, which he notices.

Aria: stop looking so impressed that I can open a door.

Miles: I wasn't.

Aria: you were a little.

He offers his arm. She takes it without making a thing of it, which from Aria is practically a declaration.

They walk toward the entrance together, her heels putting her almost at his shoulder, the red dress catching every light source they pass. People notice her. They always do. She is aware of it and unbothered by it in equal measure, moving through the crowd with the easy confidence of someone who has never once questioned whether she belongs in a room.

Their friend group is clustered near the entrance, phones already out. They fold into it naturally, the usual reshuffling and repositioning for photos. Maya is already there in a deep green dress, her date somewhere in the background. She catches Miles's eye the moment he arrives and smiles, warm and unhurried. As the group shuffles for a photo she steps in close behind him adjusting something on his tux that does not need adjusting, her fingers grazing his shoulder briefly.

Maya: She says it quietly, eyes forward, smiling for the camera. You both look great tonight.

She steps back before Aria can clock it. Or almost before.

Aria glances sideways at Miles with an expression that does not quite commit to suspicion but files something away regardless.

The photos take another ten minutes. Miles is mid conversation when he sees her.

Janice.

She is near the main entrance with her date, someone from the lacrosse team, tall and broad shouldered in a well fitted navy suit. She is in that floor length deep navy dress, the slit catching the light as she moves, her hair up, a few loose strands around her face. She looks exactly the way he knew she would look tonight and it lands the way he knew it would land, somewhere in his chest, quiet and inconvenient.

Her date leans down and says something in her ear. She laughs, genuinely, tilting her head back slightly. Then as if she felt him looking she turns and finds him across the courtyard without any apparent effort. Their eyes meet.

She holds it for a moment. Then she turns back to her date and kisses him, slow and deliberate, one hand flat against his chest.

When she pulls back she smooths his lapel and does not look back at Miles at all.

Which is somehow worse than if she had.

Aria's hand tightens slightly on his arm.

Aria: Her voice is light, unbothered, entirely unconvincing. She looks good.

Miles: yeah.

Aria: She looks up at him with those sharp dark eyes. So do I.

Miles: He looks down at her. You really do.

Something in her expression settles. She turns back toward the venue entrance and pulls him gently forward by the arm.

Aria: good. Now take me inside. I want to dance.

He follows her in, the warmth of her hand on his arm, the image of Janice's eyes finding him across a crowded courtyard sitting somewhere in the back of his mind where he cannot quite reach it.

The night has not even started yet.