14
"Oh," breathed Emily once they were in the gym. She put a hand to her throat. "Oh. This is beautiful. Magical."
That was stretching it just a little, in Victor's opinion. Dozens of tinfoil stars hung from the ceiling, and white streamers flew from the basketball hoops. The tables around the periphery of the gym were swathed in dark blue cloths, the centerpieces filled with glitter. It was pretty enough. He was glad Emily was impressed.
"Stars, just like you said!" she remarked happily, noticing the ones hanging above them.
They'd made it just in time for the prom king and queen to be announced. All attention and all the lighting was focused on the little dais the prom committee had put up at the far side of the gym for the band. Victor and Emily edged along the outside of the crowd, keeping to the shadows. No one even turned to look at them. Laughter and chatter filled the air.
At last they found a good spot by the bleachers, out of the way but with a good view. They applauded along with everyone else when, to no one's surprise, Bob Vanderven and Betty Vandergrift were named king and queen.
"Do you know them?" Emily leaned in to ask. Victor nearly snorted. Bob and Betty were about as far outside his circle, such as it was, as it was possible to get.
"No," he replied. "Just of them."
They really were a golden couple. Life magazine would have chosen them for the perfect representatives of American youth. Fresh-faced and nice looking, blond, student council members, honor students, impeccably but not overly dressed, fake crowns on their heads, waving to the crowd. Emily leaned against him, gazing up at Bob and Betty on the dais. Was it envy in her face? Personally, Victor didn't envy them at all. He was happy right where he was, happy with the girl he was with, too.
"Just look at her dress," said Emily, almost to herself. "Beautiful. She looks like a queen." Victor noticed the way she held up a few tatters of her own now-old-fashioned gown, moth-eaten and rotted through. Victor gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. A moment later he realized she couldn't feel it. But she saw his movement, and smiled up at him.
The band re-took the stage and announced the coronation dance. On the count of three, after Bob and Betty had got into position on the gym floor, they struck up a tune. An old-fashioned kind of tune, a waltz. Bob and Betty started off the dance, and soon other couples joined in. Emily fluttered her lashes at him.
"Remember your lesson?" she asked flirtatiously.
"I think so," he replied, trying to match her tone.
Arms about each other, they worked out a simple step. Emily rested her head on his shoulder. Victor, surprised, hesitantly rested his chin lightly against her hair, which smelled faintly of stagnant water. There in the shadows they swayed, not really waltzing at all. Aside from water, Emily smelled of dead leaves and just the slightest sweet smell of something pungent, but Victor didn't let it bother him. He let himself move with the music, with Emily, there in the dark shadows on the fringes of the crowd. Victor looked up at the ceiling.
Away from the crowd and light, the tinfoil stars did look a little magical.
0–0
"Oh no," Victoria groaned once she got a look at herself in the mirror in the ladies room. She bit her lip. No wonder Mayhew had looked so worried and shocked.
She looked as if she'd tumbled down a hill. Her hair was frizzed and going every which way, the way it looked after a fitful night's sleep. Her lipstick had all rubbed off, leaving a smudgy ring around her mouth. Sweat had made her eye makeup smudge, such that she looked like a raccoon. Yet again her dress had slipped down, revealing more cleavage as well as the top of her bra-girdle. Victoria blushed bright red at the memory of the look Mayhew had given her. What must he have thought?
Only now did Victoria notice her dress was still a little unzipped. A gentleman would've taken care of that for her, she figured crossly. With a bit of twisting she managed to pull it part of the way back up. Enough to keep her dress up, anyway. She hoped.
Most mortifying of all, though, were the little marks on her neck. They were faint but definitely noticeable. They looked like little bruises. She leaned in over the sink, closer to the mirror.
"Oh no," she said again. While Victoria was inexperienced and was not popular at her school, she'd still overheard enough conversations in her dormitory to know what she was seeing. One just beneath her ear, one on her shoulder, and one more where Barry had kissed her last, right at the base of her neck. Quickly she fumbled for her handbag, and pulled out her powder compact. After a moment of dabbing, though, she gave it up as useless. The little marks shone like beacons through the powder to show what she'd been up to.
Victoria turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face. From the dispenser she grabbed a fistful of paper towels, and she scrubbed at her face until she was finally free of all the paint Mother had caked on her. Then she started in on her neck, trying to get the powder and the aftershave mell off.
Maybe once she was clean she'd feel like herself again.
0-0
When the song ended, Victor and Emily stood embracing for a moment. Applause and a few cheers filled the air around them. At last, Emily lifted her head to smile up at him. That's when he noticed it.
"What? What's wrong?" Emily asked, seeing his look.
"Uh, it's just..." Victor said, pointing to her cheek, "you've lost a bit of...I mean...you've got a...thing. Missing."
The new split in the flesh of her good cheek, which had been growing all night, had finally opened all the way up. There mustn't have been much muscle left underneath her gray skin, because now her teeth were visible through the gash, just as they were on the other side of her face. A strip of skin dangled limply. Some, he noticed, had been left behind on his lapel. He tried not to gag.
Emily put up a hand and touched the new hole in her cheek. Her fingers found the hanging bit of skin.
"How's that for a mood-killer?" Emily asked sadly. Figuring she was being rhetorical, Victor didn't reply. He just discreetly flicked the flesh she'd left behind off of his coat.
"Let me just go to the powder room," she added, as if she just needed to comb her hair or put on more lipstick. "I'll see if I can fix it."
"Okay," Victor replied hesitantly. Should he chaperone her to the bathroom? Would that be weird? Couldn't she wait? He shook off his bad feeling. The dance was nearly over, the band had announced there would be one more short set. It was nearly ten.
"Do you remember where the bathroom is?" Victor thought to ask. Emily waved a hand carelessly.
"I'll find it," she assured him. "I'll be quick. Save the last dance for me!"
Gracefully Emily slipped into the shadows on the edges of the crowd, making for the doors where they'd come in. None of the couples she passed noticed her. From a distance, in the dark, she could almost be taken for alive.
He smiled, but a sad and wistful one. Then he sighed. At least she got her prom night, he reasoned. She looked so happy.
"There he is!" came a voice, carrying over the music. Victor turned to see Mary. She had Mr. Hemmler with her.
Mr. Hemmler, rumpled and tired, his green chaperone badge crooked, sighed. He was using his cane tonight, Victor noticed. "Mr. Van Dort, Miss Stickley here is a little upset. She-"
"Upset?!" Mary asked incredulously. Hands on hips, she faced Victor, looking up at him with a queer mix of annoyance and fear. Victor looked down at her. She was so short it hurt his neck to do so after a couple of seconds. He looked at Mr. Hemmler for help.
"She seems to think she saw a ghost," Mr. Hemmler said, sounding uncertain. Mary sputtered.
"Not a ghost!" she said indignantly, her glasses sliding down her nose. "A corpse! In a dress! With makeup on."
Victor kept his mouth shut. Mary pushed her glasses back up into place. Mr. Hemmler sighed. The band played on. A few curious kids, the few not dancing nor preparing to leave, had stopped to listen. Victor was starting to sweat a little.
"I saw her!" Mary cried. "A dead girl! Rotting and gross. Victor brought a corpse to the prom!"