Hannah Griffith (
argyle_princess) wrote2007-01-23 10:41 pm
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Winter Formal, Neptune High School
Even before they reach the dance, in the dressed up Neptune High School Gym, they can hear it, a jumble of voices and laughter over something that passes for music.
(The band, it must be confessed, is really nothing all that impressive. The lyrics, if they were intelligible, would be quite forgettable. The music is, however, basically danceable.)
This year's theme, whatever it is, seems to have called for a great deal of pale blue and silver streamers and balloons, though only so much can be done to disguise the fact that the room is really intended more for basketball than dancing. But the Winter Formal Committee has tried. And what the room looks like doesn't matter nearly as much as who wore what and who showed up with whom. It's hard to get quality gossip out of crepe paper.
(The band, it must be confessed, is really nothing all that impressive. The lyrics, if they were intelligible, would be quite forgettable. The music is, however, basically danceable.)
This year's theme, whatever it is, seems to have called for a great deal of pale blue and silver streamers and balloons, though only so much can be done to disguise the fact that the room is really intended more for basketball than dancing. But the Winter Formal Committee has tried. And what the room looks like doesn't matter nearly as much as who wore what and who showed up with whom. It's hard to get quality gossip out of crepe paper.
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"'Shore leave', so to say."
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"You wore a brown sweater that matched your eyes."
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"Ah. You wore something... lovely, like you always do. And we both thoroughly thought we were going to be bored out of our wits with these people our relatives were meeting up with."
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"And instead we were pleasantly surprised," she says. "In Montpelier, of all places."
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He grins. "Given that there's nothing to do in Montpelier, or even the whole of Vermont." Wellard can be quite good at this, when he is enjoying the situation.
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"Except, of course, to enjoy the company you meet. Without, you know, outside distractions."
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Rather British.
Pretty chivalrous.
Very Henry.
There's a moment, and then a very slow smile.
"Dance with me?" she says, not quite the way she said it earlier. It's an invitation this time.
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"You only need to ask."
And he has no doubts that she will, now or in the future.