May 1969

He just wanted to wear his dad's good suit. That's all he wanted. It would have made this simpler and definitely lessen the humiliation he was feeling.

Harry was stood in the Sears suit department watching Jillian make ugly faces at all the drab suits.

"Not one of them can be a color?" She'd looked at Harry standing there holding several checked jackets and sighed.

"I'm really fine with grey or blue." He'd shrugged. Those were colors. And as for the plaid in his hand, his dad had several tweed coats he was  pretty sure he'd grown into. He was as tall as him now, maybe a hair taller. Or his hair ''twas taller. And a little broader. His posture was just band, mostly because  he wanted to fold in on himself like a dinner napkin a lot of the time. Like right now. Not only was he going to Prom as her and Will's third wheel. He was going to stand out like the star in a play if Jillian got her way about his attire. He was really more of a background character.

Harry was elated when Jillian just huffed and took all the jackets out of his hand and gave him the blue suit. He'd been eyeing it for a while now. It was not navy, decidedly, but it was blue. Blue was safe, but it had small details he liked, the lapels and the flares leg. It was, well, groovy would be Jillian's description, was.

"You sure your don't want to try on the green suit?" She picked up the mossy suit one more time.

Harry wasn't sure what the difference was between a blue suit and a green one, the green just seemed, loud. "I think it's a little much." He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses at the fabric.

"But it's corduroy." She smiled like that made the difference. It did, just not the way she thought it did.

"Maybe that's why I think it's a little much." He inclined his forehead at her.

"I think you play it too safe." She shrugged.

He very much did play it safe. Not just with clothes. But, "the pants of the blue one are belled." That seemed relevant and like she needed a reminder.

Jillian trilled her musical laugh. "Oh, alright, I dig it. We have reached your limit on cool. Go try it on." He walked into the dressing room and could hear her giggling outside.

"What are you plotting?" He nearly tripped over his own pants, thankfully since he couldn't afford a suit and extra pants, when the corduroy hit his head.

"I wanna see you in it. You're gonna look groovy. Your eyes will be green like jade man!" His heart soared. "Trina Lewis said she's just noticed how pretty the color was the other day, when you were cleaning your glasses." And it sunk.

"Who's Trini Lewis?"

"She's in English with us. And Trina, doof." She laughed. "She moved here last year. Kinda quiet really curly blonde hair, brown eyes."

"Where does she sit?" He didn't care, he was simply stalling.

"She sits one back and two over from me, so three from you." That's why he'd never noticed, he looked forward in class, certainly no further back than Jillian.

"Why are we talking about Trini—"

"Trina." She giggled.

"Trina, any how?" He stepped out in the blue suit expecting to continue sparring with her.

She was quiet. It was strange, so Harry only caught a glimpse of himself before he redirected his attention to her. Jillian's eyes always took up a bit more than their fair share of her face, or he focused on them most to avoid looking at her mouth.

Sitting on the round tufted avocado stool, they were shooter marble big. And her mouth was caught on whatever explanation she was gonna give about the blonde in their English class. Trini? It was hard to remember anyone else's name when she was looking up at him, especially like that.

Something broke when she blinked, the moment, his heart, it was hard to say. "What?" He finally asked to break the tension. The hairs on his arm were standing on end.

"Nothing," she swallowed loud. "where are your glasses?"

"Oh, I took them off to get my sweater over my head, forgot to pop them back on."

"Your hair looks different too. I um,"
She fidgeted with her hair, "I, um, didn't know it had gotten so long." It sounded like a compliment, though the words weren't complimentary exactly. He'd take it. He wasn't sure about the way she was gazing at him; it looked like she'd been staring at the sun, like when you see black spots because you stared too directly.

Seemed fair, he often felt like he watched her like the moon through a telescope trying to map her geography.

His hair was longer than normal. It seemed fashionable, though he still did it in his usual fashion, so no one had noticed, he just pushed it back after showers. He wasn't sure it was worth it, the growth. Plus, his hair was getting hard to pomade so he was just about ready to cut it.

Harry was pretty sure he'd let it go until it touched his shoulders now.

Jillian loved long hair, he knew it. It was a very uncommon sight still in their small town. It might have been his unnamed motivation.

"Yeah, I thought I'd try it." For California. But he still hadn't had time to share with her. They hung out, not as much as they used to, and her mom was having a long stitch of singleness, so Jillian slept at home. He hoped to tell her. He'd hoped to continue planning together. He wondered if he hadn't been able to get it out because he was afraid she'd changed her mind. Time had passed, and well, Will. Will was still around, but Harry still hoped for forever. And that meant California, just the two
Of them. Her eyes said maybe

He had a little hope, maybe they could find some sweet romance after all.

"It looks really nice." Jillian finally said. Her voice a little higher than normal. There was a pause. "You know, I thought you'd grown out of your curls." She gestured to the mirror and rushed through the next question. "Do you like the blue?"

Harry realized the mirror was still there and looked at himself. He looked really tall in these bell bottoms. He supposed he was kind of taller than most of the boys at school. He'd need a boot, maybe with a bit of a heel, he may have a loafer that would work. The shirt was a bit ruffly. "I like the blue, maybe not the shirt. The pants are groovy." He put his leg up to let the flare open. "Do people grow out of their curls?" He ran his hand through his hair, ruffled it up. He could feel her eyes and it was such a nice boomerang of his feelings and attention on her; he preened a little.

"Should I try the green?" He walked a few steps closer to peer at his eyes. He never really thought about their color, he supposed they were really green. He was partial to blue, blue eyes and the blue sight. He hunkered down next to her, sitting on his heels, and bumped her shoulder. "Or have we found the one? Though I'd prefer a different shirt."

She kept her head forward and he was slightly miffed she didn't slide her forehead over his. He thought about breathing her condensed breath on his bench seat in January a lot. That was a sense memory, it smarted that it was coupled with silently committing to friendship for life. If she would just turn to him now, maybe....

"I think the shirt makes it, but the flares are far out  enough for me.  You should try the green, at least see how it looks." He rolled his head to the light and stood up. She wasn't gonna breathe on him, despite their earlier moment.

He sighed. "Ok." Once he got in the room he looked at his choices. He was already exhausted, and this was his first suit. "How many dresses did you have to try on?"

"Oh, I'm gonna wear the dress you bought me. The pink one?" She sounded nonchalant on purpose, it didn't quite work.

"Are you supposed to do that? Rewear dresses to big events?" He had money from his dad for the suit. Started checking price tags. The blue was more than the brown. But the green was most expensive.

"I just really like the dress."

He barely had the shirt on when he stepped out. And Jillian swallowed once her gaze reached his face while he was buttoning up. It had started at his navel where his fingers had fumbled. He needed to see her face. He felt like there were things she wasn't saying. He knew there were, but if she bit her lip or cut her eyes away quick, he'd know she was lying.

She did the second when he got the jacket on. "Listen, go get some dresses. Look at the sale racks, or we can try Mel's again."

"The pink was a treasure find, Harry."

"There's gotta be a better thrift shop here in Syracuse. We could try another one. I'll get the blue instead of the green, then I can use the difference in cash to pick it up for you?" He just felt like she needed a new dress.

"I don't care if people notice Harry." Did he? Maybe. He already heard troubling things about her. The high school rumor mill was very busy trying to figure out what Will was doing with Jillian 8 months on. They figured he hadn't gotten what he was after. What Jillian was trying to get outta Will was less discussed. Everyone assumed his family's money and social status, but Harry confused them further.

Jillian still rode to school with Harry often, or had since they'd made up, and she occasionally ate with him in the library. The supposed triangle made people feel sorry, for him.

He'd heard back up boyfriend a time or two again. It always felt like a slap. May always feel that way.

But that wasn't Jillian, that was just high school dicks.

"Don't you wanna look? It  couldn't hurt."

"I'll look, if you wear the ruffled shirt." She turned her face sideways, her cheekbones shone fetchingly, even in the harsh department store lighting.

"You drive a hard bargain. But I'll do it." He wanted to reverse their positions of the last hour. It seemed like she saw him anew today. He looked at her new with each day. In pretty dresses couldn't hurt, they were memories he could hoard up like treasure. Her in her prom dress, his date or not, smiling at him and pleased with herself.

"That's not the whole bargain. I also want you to ask Trina to the dance."

"The dance is in a week!" He squawked and was getting back into his own clothes. He forewent the sweater vest. He was hot from all the changing so much his hair was definitely curling up from the damp, so he just pushed it back and over. "Won't that offend her?"

He had no excuses for why he left the glasses off. He'd never even realized how green his eyes were, either.

"Nah, she's not got a date, it'll give her a reason to buy a dress. She wants to go. She wants to go with you." They were walking out by now. The line had been minimal and they'd only done quick pleasantries while they were embroiled in their current debate.

He opened her car door. And she slid in and reached over to unlock his. Harry thought about it as he walked around. He was sure Trini was nice, Trina, and it would save him from an awkward dynamic. When they were all around each other, Will mostly ignored him, but Prom was long compared to moments at Dairy Barn or in the halls. That may be nice.

The problem was, he wanted to go with Jillian. Even as the strange tripod that she, he and Will had developed. She was changing their dynamic. It was disappointing, but he was sure she envisioned some double date scenario. A partner of his own may distract him from her and Will kissing. Or whatever. He could see the merits of the idea more and more. Harry was ready to agree, but needed to confirm the terms.

"So," he looked at her across the bench seat. He felt taller when she looked him in the eye today. He was gonna have to put the glasses on to drive, but he was gonna wait until the engine purred to life. "If I ask Trina to the dance and wear that ever so slightly cheaper suit with the ruffled blouse."

"It's not a blouse." She insisted.

"It's a blouse." He kept talking, over her interruption and through his grinning teeth. "Then we can search some thrift shops and find you a dress? A new one?"

She chewed her lip. Jillian wanted to say no, but she also wanted him to go with Trina, or she really liked the blouse. He wasn't sure which. "Yes." She said and screwed up her mouth like she'd eaten a load of salt and vinegar chips, which he loved and she tolerated. She'd liked the Worcester chips his dad got when he went to New York and found a specialty shop much better. They could get them next month before or after The Beach Boys show.

He'd also heard there was gonna be a big music show nearby this summer. Maybe they could go? He'd ask her after he got her in a dress. Though questions usually preceded gowns.

"I would shake your hand, but I'm driving." He looked at her grinning. "Can you be trusted?"

She just stared at him and he was confused by her mood.

"Can we listen to the radio?" She leaned forward without him saying yes. That was the obvious answer. They sang together, always. He headed to the area around the university. He remembered there being a charity shop there with good stuff.

She was singing softly to "The Zombies." He got caught up in the moment of it, and his voice dropped off the chorus. She could carry it. The lyrics carried his away. This was a season; winter was ending and they were headed for years long spring. He was just about to tell her. All his plans. He wasn't sure why he hadn't yet. Every time he went to share, he found himself saying something else. Like he was sure that forever didn't extend past August and she was really just shining him on until she could leave. That she was gonna marry Will in a year and have a baby, like so many girls they knew, or the worst. That she wanted California on her own, and only faux planned with him to placate him. He hated being placated.

He really hated thinking these thoughts.

Maybe that's why he said, "what color dress you gonna get?" Instead of anything important, everything important.

She looked at him then, in that way she had. Like he was made of glass, but she'd only reply to the reflection, blurry on top. Not what she saw deeper. He appreciated that she didn't force candor, it seemed she always knew without him saying.

"When you thrift shop, you can't be as picky. It'll do if we find something that fits and is somewhat appropriate."

"Appropriate?" He laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "For a dance."

"I feel like it's the only time they let you guys dress in anything remotely inappropriate." He glanced quick to catch her expression. He had the mirror, but in motion was better. "Remember last year when they got you for that mini skirt?"

"Ugh, it was not that short."

He bit his laugh off. It was pretty short. He zigged to a new subject. "How's this place look?" He gestured at the store he had in mind. The front window was full of shawls and bell bottoms, a tie dye tapestry peaking out behind.

"Far Out, Hardy!"

"You haven't called me that in forever." He jumped down and lit up further when she slipped her arm through his. She was touchy like when they were younger today. After her dad left, well, it was nice for it to be back.

"You haven't earned it! When was the last time you found me pretty Beetles?"

"I find you Beatles albums."

"Not as good," She shook her head and bowed  like the Hare Krishnas in Central Park when he opened the door for her.

"That's not what you said when I found Sgt.Pepper early for you."

"Well, maybe that one should have gotten a Hardy."

"Your giddy scream was enough." They'd made it to the dress section while they were bantering.

It looked like a pastel bomb went off. There were a lot of flounces. Jillian stayed away from the most complicated pieces and chose darker colors. It surprised him.

The black dress was drab and everything was so low cut, she'd claimed even on prom night they'd kick her out.

She might have even been right, he was almost hyperventilating and shifting his erection to his waistband after that dark blue one shift dress. He didn't know people who weren't Cher wore necklines like that. Jillian was not shaped like Cher. Harry had wandered to distract himself from seeing her in anything else that would make him feel like he ran the hurdles in gym. It was in a random spot he found her dress. It was white, with ruffled cap sleeves and little hippie flowers. The front wouldn't get her kicked out, but it would set his heart to racing.

Will's too.

But it was too beautiful to not bring it to her.

Jillian's eyes widened, it was his favorite face, when he surprised her with something she loved. She was the great gift giver and he tried to get on her level every birthday and Christmas. He'd succeeded a few times, The Beach Boys tickets, the headband that looked just like the one the girl on the cover of Life had worn when they put out the issue on hippies. Her bike when he'd fixed it after she thought it was broken for good at 11.

This was better. Because she slipped the dress from his fingers like it was worth rubies, not $4 as the tag said. She held it lightly, but immediately walked into the dressing room. His eyes widened in a mirror image of her in Sears when she walked out of the dressing room.

"Wow." Was all he could muster. "You look....."

"Yeah?" It's groovy?" She looked like she believed it, and just needed him to back her, like he always did.

"It's far out, Jill." He called her that when he was overcome. Or she was crying. She looked a little misty. He swallowed over the lump in his throat. "You can wear some flowers in your hair too. You'll look so pretty. I'll go look for some."

He found some fake potted plant for .25 and took off buds. He wasn't sure how she'd do it. But he could see the halo of white flowers around her face. It was a window to his future. This dress, flowers in her hair, the alameda county court house.

"How's this?" He held out the handful of flowers and she looked up. He wanted to receive that benediction again and again. Harry didn't know she liked getting flowers, he'd never given her a living thing as a gift. He would now. He'd bring her real flowers home when they had a place. He liked learning new things about her.

"Perfect, they're perfect." She took the buds and pulled her hair up messily, the silky tresses falling through her fingers and the band she had. The hard green parts of the fake petals stuck in between and stayed for put for enough seconds to get an idea of what she'd look like Saturday. Harry stood behind her and gazed in the glass with her.

His heart pounded, and if she was facing him, he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep from kissing her.

"Do you think Will will like it?"

The bubble filling where his heart should be burst. He rubbed over his chest to warm the ice that comment induced, and did what best friends do, "How could he not? You look like an angel."

"An angel of the morning?" She grinned. He wanted to return it. They'd sung it en route. Before the suits. It was hard to smile back though. She always looked like an angel in the morning, especially in the morning. But, was she asking because of Will? Because he might see her just after dawn?

"An angel at anytime." He assured her. Will was staying in New York. And they were going to California. He was gonna give her the dream, he reminded himself. God he loved her and was so scared she was gonna spend the night with Will. Like really spend the night, not just share a bed, no matter how small.

It was prom. There was a strange expectation. Lots of the boys had been talking about the hotel rooms they'd gotten. The dance was all the way in Syracuse, at the college. A couple groups were staying in the dorms or frats with older siblings. He hadn't heard Will talking about hotel rooms, but Steve was, and his plans for it. Though to hear him tell it, he'd had his girlfriend in his truck many a time.

It always made Harry grit his teeth.

Especially when Steve talked about Jillian's tits and Will smiled and laughed. He'd seen Will give an approximation with the cupped palms of his hands and say, "She goes crazy," and lick his lips that time.

Harry couldn't tell that to Jillian, about Will talking about her like that, not without ulterior motives. It was her decision anyhow. And he couldn't bring himself to ask about it. They didn't talk about her and Will, not really, just surface stuff. Though he spent plenty of time worrying about it, and loathing himself for it. Fear and loathing in New York.

"Um, I think this is the one. I'll go pay." He reached to the top of her back and took the tag off.  His finger tips coasted over her skin for just a pleasant second. He ignored the chill bumps that rose. He must have startled her. "You look beautiful." He said as he left.

He was blinded by her smile and nearly crushed the little handwritten tag on his way to pay for that dress for her to go to a dance with someone else.

But he dreamed of her wearing it with real flowers in her hair and saying loving words and long term vows to him as sunlight broke through fog.

The week was a bit of a blur. Trini, no Trina, said yes, she squealed and hugged him. There were tests and end of year activities, and it felt like the ending of a movie you knew had a sequel. He was really excited for the next chapter.

He felt like a new man. Looked it, too. He was only wearing his glasses in class and had let his growing hair loose. His physics teacher didn't recognize him on Wednesday. Which made him both really confused and a little smug.

His da had stopped him on Saturday. "You lost your glasses then?"

Harry'd quirked his head to the side and pulled them from his jean's pocket and slipped them up his nose.

"No?"

"Good. You wear them to drive?"

Harry had nodded.

"Good. It's nice to see your mother's eyes." And he'd taken his mug of tea and hid out from all the emotion in his study.

That was when he was leaving to get Jillian from the early shift at work. They were getting ready at his house, he'd drop her at Will's and then find Trina's house on the way. Shouldn't be too hard, their town only had one stop light.

He gave her the bathroom. The spicy smells coming from under the bathroom door where new and altogether pleasant. He knocked. "New perfume?"

"Um, yeah. Will bought it for me. Its Opium."

"It's nice." He complimented and leaned his forehead as softly as possible against the wood grain.

"It's alright. I miss my Love's." He'd bought that one birthday, liked the powdery scent . It just seemed like Jillian to him. He missed it too.

She'd been in the bathroom, long after he was in his suit. The new look was easier, he didn't have to pomade his hair and try to subdue it. He just let it curl around his ears and neck and forehead. He needed to get in to splash on some after shave, for scent, he'd never really needed to shave. Harry didn't want to rush her, but..... He listened to small movement and soft sighs. He was just about to say something, then.

For a second, he thought he heard a sob. "You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Her voice was thick. "I keep having to redo my eyeliner. I wanted to try that Sharon Tate thing. It's hard. I'm frustrated."

Over explaining, not a good sign. "Can I come in."

"Um no, I'm in my underwear."

Harry groaned, but bit off the sound. "Did something happen?"

"My um, my mom, she didn't come home last night. I guess I'm a little worried." Her voice sounded close.  Like they were both speaking through the hinges.

"Do you want to go by and check on her? Or.." he squared his shoulders. "Or we can drive by the bar?"

"That's, that would be really good, Harry." She opened the door and he almost fell in. Jillian peeked at him, and their faces were so close. "Thanks." She kissed his cheek and her breath smelled sweet. Even over the strong perfume that didn't fit her.

"We need to hurry then. I don't want to be late to Trina, seems rude." His voice was sheer, thin as the overlay of her dress.

"K, I'll hurry."

"Leave the eyes alone." They were misty, it would run. "You look perfect."

She nodded and smiled. Then closed the door softly. He could feel the grain of the wood on the heel of his hand when he placed it there.

She came out 10 minutes later. He wee'd and splashed on his scent. Well, His dad's.

He was trying to push down the ruffles when he came out.

"Stop that!" Her laugh tickled his ears like questing fingers under blankets. She re ruffled him.

They needed to get out of here, all her casual affection was affecting him. He couldn't take it.

It was worse when his dad insisted on pictures, like they were going together, like she was his date. Like it was his dream.Standing behind her, with his arms around her waist, her unfamiliar smell going to his head and her bum resting too close for comfort on his pelvis, he focused on his anguish, and the periodic table, so he wouldn't embarrass himself.

"You guys look lovely. That will be a framer." He swore his dad was crying, in a very British way. He was fussing about behind him with the camera at his desk.

"We're going da." He tried to get his attention. Get him to turn around. So he could check his hunch.

"Oh, quite right. Wouldn't want you to be late. Have a good time. Don't worry about curfew." Harry's mouth dropped open. "Enjoy yourselves."

He was keeping his eyes firmly on the road. Though he could feel Jillian's on him. His dad looked, funny. He had never seen him so emotional. He let his mind run on that while the seat he'd for her parent. Jillian got uncomfortable and quiet when her mom let her down. He let her feel it. He'd snap her out of it after they figured out what exactly was going in. He kinda knew where she was.

Jillian's mom wasn't at their house.

But her beat up pick up was outside the VFW she sometimes called work.

"Look, she's just down the pub. It's ok. Do you want to go in so she can see you?" She really should. If only to shame the devil for probably not even knowing it was prom.

Jillian scanned parking lot. Her gaze stuttered over a black camaro at the end. It looked very familiar, but Harry couldn't place it.

He went to switch off the engine. Jillian grabbed Harry's wrist to stop his motion. Another casual touch that felt committed, and said, "no, I don't want to be late for Will."

"You don't think your mom would want to see you?" She didn't deserve it, but it would be merciful.

"If it was important to her, she would have helped me get ready, instead of not even coming home." Her face had the blank look it got when she shut down. Jillian wasn't always merciful.

He knew better but, "But."

"No, Harry. Let's go." He eased his foot off the break and obeyed.

She didn't touch him again, just kept her hands folded on her lap. There was a corsage on the seat. It wasn't for her.

He watched her walk into Will's, but didn't see the corsage, a pink set of carnations, until he and Trina arrived at the dance.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised, but Jillian and Will sat at another table altogether than him and Trina. At first, embarrassingly, he felt close to tears over it. Suddenly, his dad's reaction made sense. He wished he had a desk and camera to fuss with. He consoles himself with reason.

It made sense, both Will and Jillian on court, it was closer to the stage, he reminded himself. He told himself this while he put a smile on like a kid pastes cut outs on a test page.

They didn't win, and he didn't like who he was that he felt a swelling in his chest at it. Despite Jillian's crestfallen face. It was one of the few moments he was surprised about one of her reactions. A few months ago he would have been surprised she cared to win at all.

It was the second to last dance when he saw Jillian coming towards him. He had to admit, he had had a lovely time with Trina. They could be good friends, even if he hadn't been in love with someone else, he believed he would have felt the same.

He hoped.

"Trina, do you mind if I cut in." She'd tapped his date's shoulder. He'd kept turning his date from 'take time to know her' to 'angel of the morning.'

Both described Jillian to him. But he was glad she got to dance with him to the latter.

He spared a second's thought for Trina, but he was pretty sure she felt the same, about them being better suited as friends. She was chatting with Simon, from history, he thought. Then dancing.

He had tunnel vision he guessed. For lessons at school. For Jillian now. For California in three months. "You having fun?" He opened with, as formal as his ruffled shirt.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm a little sad we lost." She screwed up her face in a way that told him she was as surprised as him.

"I saw that!" He made a face at her.

"I know. I'm surprised too. I didn't even know I wanted to win."

"Well, I've won. Since I get to dance with the prettiest girl here. Real prom queen."

She blushed. She rarely did that near him. It somehow changed the color of the lights above and her dress below. Everything glowing a soft pink.

"What's going on after this?" Harry wasn't really sure of after dance procedures. This was only his second. The last one she'd left separately, and this time they hadn't attended together.

"Oh, some party upstairs." Jillian explained.

"Here? At the hotel?" Wow, some people lived completely different lives.

"Yeah, I'll bet you can come. I'll ask Will." She offered.

He wanted to go, just to extend this night, with her and that dress and the rose glow. Even if it was with two other people between them.

"Yeah, ok."

Which was how he found himself watching Steven Adler get increasingly drunk and obnoxious.

"Hey, what's your name?" He'd asked about an hour into hotel time.

"Harry, Harry Styles."

"Who invited you?" He said like the words meant nothing to him. Although he'd suggested at one point they, meaning the football team, tape Harry's butt cheeks together, to see if he lived up to his name. Apparently it would hurt a lot more if he was hairy Harry.

They'd surrounded him in the shower. He hadn't been Hairy enough to bother, and the dick jokes had run to awe. He didn't have a comparison.

Steven has known his name two weeks ago.

After that, Harry kept himself to himself. He hadn't seen much of Jillian. But Trina seemed happy, hanging on the couch with a beer in her hands and chuckles in her mouth.

An hour later, Trina was ready to go. And truly, Harry was too. But, he needed to see Jillian first. To make sure she wanted to stay, here, at the hotel, with Will. Where everybody had an agenda for after the dance.

He was going from room to room in the hallway the athletes had seemed to have planned to take up. All the doors were opened and people spilled out. None of them Jillian.

It took him 20 minutes of panic to find her. She was coming out of the last room. Her cheeks were tear stained, and her eyes were bloodshot. Grass maybe was his first thought. He knew she'd been experimenting, that they had talked about.

"Harry!" Her voice broke with relief and over a sob like wave.

"Jillian!bWhat's wrong?"

She just shook her head. There were too many people around.

"Where's Will?"

Her chin lifted then. "In his room, alone." The last word was so final he just paused, and moved into a new paragraph.

"Let's find Trina. So we can get out of here?"

Jillian bit her nails near the elevator bank, looking toward the end of the hallway and back to the room across from it where Harry had left Trina. He could feel her eyes on him as he searched.

Luckily, his date was where he had left her. Talking to classmates and smiling drunkenly.

"Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, let me grab my purse. Everything cool, man?"

"Yeah, fine. Just late." He demurred.

The ride home nobody spoke. Too tired or caught up in their emotions. It was half an hour and the girls were drooping on each other's shoulders when he reached Trina's.

She was past the turn off for Jillian's, and he hoped nobody noticed. He tried not to think much about it. But, he wanted to ask his best girl where she wanted to go. And he wanted to know why she'd not been in the party rooms, why she left Will, and most importantly why she'd been crying?

He hugged Trina at the door, and they decided to go bowling together the week after. "You should ask Jillian." Trina had said as he headed down the walk.

"Yeah, if she's off, and not with Will." He'd shrugged as he turned back with his hands in his pockets.

"No, Harry." She leveled sober eyes on him. "You should ask Jillian, whatever it is you need to ask her. Forget Will." She suggested and grinned drunkenly before swaying through her door and closing it too loud for 2 am.

Ask Jillian. Forget Will.