Today was a busy one, and as soon as the play was over it was time to dash back to the dorms to make all the last-minute touch-ups for the party. It was as beachified as someplace in the dorms could be, there were plenty of (non-alcoholic) tropical drinks, and glitter everywhere
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Not that this meant anything to him - at least not when it was a high school party - but his policy on social events at this school had always been to show up at least long enough to convince people he wasn't a recluse doing strange things in his room by himself, like trying to take over the world.
So: there he was, in a nice shirt and pants, eyeballing the glitter with the look of the post-traumatic.
Or at least the post-Oz-on-a-weird-weekend.
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Rebecca sauntered over to him a respectable amount of time after he'd arrived. "Good thing I didn't put money on this," she remarked. "I wouldn't've pegged you for deigning to make an appearance at this kind of thing."
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Because that was enticing like whoa.
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And, for those inclined, it was pretty easy to trace the path she'd taken as her hair trailed out through the balls in random directions.
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