Chapter XVI

"Well, I've got awful news for you two," Abby says, striding over to where Otis and Maeve are mocking the posters for the dance the next morning. "We're all going."

"What," Maeve says. "I mean, you can drag him there, but not me. I'm..."

"...Going to watch me do my first DJ set ever," Abby finishes. "Come on, don't look so grim. Everyone has to suffer through one ugly school dance or corporate party in their lives. It's an unfortunate law of western civilization."

"Are corporate parties even a thing anymore," Otis asks.

"Probably not, but the universe is an ugly place that enforces this inanity," Abby says. "So, if you two don't come tonight, the chances of corporate party in your futures will be going way up. Besides, if you don't come watch me spin my first set, you'll suffer from the guilt for the rest of your lives."

"Ah, but you see, I have been to a disaster like this before," Otis explains. "The year seven disco."

"Otis," Abby sighs. "Over the last few days, I have risked life and limb sleeping in your bed past seven o' clock, shimmying down a tree, and running home because you are needy and I have an admitted weakness for that stupid pouty face you do. So you owe me one."

Maeve pats Otis' shoulder, amused. "Have fun at the dance, buddy," she says, starting to walk away. "You've got an eight thirty."

"And Maeve," Abby calls out. "If you don't come to this dance, you will eventually be forced to see me perform at some awful London club filled with neon lights and bankers on their night off, so in retrospect, the Happily Ever After dance will look like Xanadu!"

"Yeah, but that club has alcohol, so fair trade," she yells back continuing to walk away.

"Boo," Abby shouts at her back, laughing before turning to Otis. "Anyway, 8:30's Liam. Again."

Otis heaves a sigh. "And you see that? If you weren't on the turntables at the dance, people like Liam would be a key reason in why I want nothing to do with this whole affair."

"Aw, buck up," Abby says. "One day, when you're giving a TED talk in, like, the Sahara desert or somewhere else environmentally problematic, you can remind me of this and I'll have to be there."

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Maeve grabs Abby by the arm as they walk out of English class. "Well, apparently, I am going to the dance, and I need to buy a dress," she says. "You coming?"

"Maeve, I needed you to help me pick out party clothes," Abby points out. "How am I going to be of any assistance?"

"Because you know stuff about buying dresses," Maeve says. "Like...cost and that."

"No, I don't," Abby says. "I know about the expensive dresses my mom buys for award shows that could cost the equivalent of buying a small island in the Maldives. Seeing as I've never had a dance to go to, I know nothing about mall dresses or...well, anything to do with brick-and-mortar shopping. I buy all my clothes online, and I use the mall to buy food, books, music, and, now apparently, underwear."

"What food are you buying at the mall," Maeve asks.

"There's a Tescos in the mall," Abby says.

"That doesn't count," Maeve argues. "It's just attached to the mall."

"It's in the directory, so it counts," Abby says. "Anyway, do you know what dress you want?"

"No," Maeve says. "Because I haven't been shopping yet."

"I could lend you something," Abby says.

"No offense, but I really don't think we have the same style. I'm not really the floral type," Maeve replies. "As the whole 'meeting Jackson's parents' fiasco illustrates."

"Fair enough," Abby says. "We can go shopping after school. How's that sound?"

"Kind of torturous, considering you'll be able to buy whatever you want," Maeve says. "And I don't want you buying a dress for me, so keep that thought to yourself."

"Oh, I already have a dress," Abby says. "Well, not like a ballgown, but this is in the auditorium, and I'll be standing behind a DJ booth, and my boyfriend is only going by mild coercion, so I don't think finding the 'perfect' dress is really that relevant to me. Now, you...Jackson probably has expectations or whatever."

"Thanks for the reminder," Maeve says, scowling.

"Don't worry," Abby says. "If things really come down to it, my aunt left tons of dresses in the attic when she fled to Australia."

"And when did your aunt graduate?"

"...1997."

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Abby and Maeve walk back to the caravan park to pick up her wallet, and see Sean having a smoke on one of the deck chair outside. "Maeve," he calls out. "Gwynnie!"

Abby flips him off and flops into the chair next to him. "Hiya, shithead," she says. "How goes things?"

"Oh, man, frogface," he says. "You picked up the whole toy aisle. Action Man, Barbie...what'd you do, rob a Hamleys?"

"Ooh, nice," Abby says. "See if I ever give you free Starbucks again."

Maeve comes back out of the caravan with her wallet, and tells Abby, "Okay, let's go."

As Abby gets up, so does Sean. "Where are we going, ladies," he asks.

"There's a ball," Abby starts and Sean cracks up.

"A school dance," he says. "Really?"

"I'm the DJ," Abby says. "Also, don't act surprised like Jackson wasn't going to ask her."

"I have to see this," he says, following them.

Maeve grabs Abby by the arm. "Why did you have to tell him," she hisses.

"Look, there's a chance he knows more about this kind of thing than me," Abby whispers back. "We might as well give him a chance."

About an hour later, they end up in a small dress shop in Pineland called Harleys. Sean picks out a decent selection of dresses, with some assistance from Abby, and Maeve begins trying them on. She first comes out in a purple velvet bodycon dress, which gets the comment, "you look like an angry aubergine" for Sean, and a quick "maybe" from Abby, who's absentmindedly flipping through the pages of The Feminine Mystique.

"Jesus, if you're going to be here, at least pay attention," Sean says.

Abby looks up, and winces. "You're right. I'm sorry, Maeve. It's definitely not that one."

Maeve rolls her eyes. "It's too expensive, anyway," she says.

Maeve sighs angrily and takes the next dress, a lacy black knee-length one. When she comes out, Abby drops her book on the floor. "That's it," she squeals. "That's the one! It's perfect and fabulous and spectacular and amazing, and every other adjective that's been used in a comic book title!"

"Well, it's too bad, because there's no one I can afford this one either," she says, glaring at Sean.

"I've got this," he says, leaving the dressing room. Abby pats Maeve's shoulder.

"Maybe we can buy some lace and take one of my aunt's dresses and make a dress ourselves," she says.

"Except this isn't Pretty in Pink and neither of us can sew," Maeve points out.

"Damn it," Abby says. "Maybe home ec and woodshop should be mandatory. If we have an apocalypse, we're all really unprepared."

"Why would we need to make a dress during the apocalypse," Maeve asks, starting to grin.

"We'll need something gorgeous to wear to the public executions," Abby says. "And we'd need woodshop to build houses in the woods where the mad dictator can't find us."

Maeve grins as the PA chimes and Sean's voice comes out from the speakers. "Hello, I am so sorry for interrupting your shopping today, but my little sister Maeve..."

"Oh, God, no," Maeve says, running towards the front of the store, Abby on her heels.

"...Is going to her first school dance tonight and she has just found the perfect dress." Sean looks over and sees Abby and Maeve standing behind the curtain and waves. "There she is! Come on out, Maeve! Come on!" Maeve wearily pulls back the curtain and walks out.

"Doesn't she look so pretty," Sean goes on. He switches from his usual jovial tone to a more subdued voice as he says, "Except, the problem is, we can't afford this dress, because recently...we were orphaned."

The surrounding shoppers' faces stare back in shock and sympathy as Sean continues. "Earlier this year, our dad, who served this country bravely, died in combat and our mum passed shortly after." He lowers his voice to a pained whisper, as he says, "Cancer."

Abby's eyes widen. "I don't think I've seen this level of bullshit artistry," she whispers to Maeve. "He's got a gift."

"But if they had been here today to see my little sister, they would have been proud of their little girl. Now, I know it's unorthodox, but if you could give anything, then we might be able to help my sister get the dress of her dreams. Thank you."

And to Abby's surprise, people genuinely start handing over money.

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"So, you're going to the dance tonight, right," Eric asks as soon as Otis picks up the phone.

"I thought your dad took your phone away after he caught you talking to Abby," Otis says.

"Yeah, and then my mum got him to give it back," Eric explains. "So you're going, right?"

"Yeah, but only because Abby's DJing," Otis says. "I mean, it'd be one thing if you were there..."

"No, it wouldn't," Eric says. "Technically, I could go. I've got permission and all. But, uh, school dances aren't the place for people like me."

"What are you talking about," Otis says. "You love stuff like this. Plus, if Abby knew you got permission, she'd be banging on your door to make you see her set."

"Yeah, but I mean...it wouldn't make sense for me to be there," Eric says. "It's not really my scene. Just...it's a lot."

"Well," Otis says, slightly concerned. "It's okay if you don't want to. It'd be really fun if you were there, though."

"Thanks," Eric says. "I'm sure you'll have a great time." After they say their goodbyes and hang up, he slides his phone in his pocket and keeps walking home. A car slows down next to him blaring gospel music, and Eric is floored when he looks at the driver. The man has on dangly heart shaped earrings with a cross design hanging at the bottom, and a leopard print coat just like the one he'd worn the night of his birthday.

"Hey, man, do you know how to get to Ellencot," the man in the leopard coat asks Eric. "I'm trying to get to a wedding reception and my GPS totally screwed me."

"Um...yeah," Eric manages, taken aback by the stranger. "Yeah, you're going in the right direction. Um, it's that way, about fifteen minutes. Take a left at the primary school."

The man in the car nods. "Thanks, man," he says.

"Uh..." Eric looks down at the hands clutching the wheel and smiles. "Your nails are fierce."

"Thanks, kid," the guy says with a nod and a smile. He quickly looks Eric up and down. "Want my advice? Stick to the jewel tones."

As the man laughs and drives off, Eric can feel that, slowly but surely, his spirit is starting to heal.

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After getting dressed for the dance, Otis comes down to the steps to a surprise. Ola is sitting on his living room couch, next to his mum, while her father can be heard in the kitchen, fixing the sink.

"Uh, hi, Ola," he says, confused.

"Your mum told me there was a dance tonight," she explains. "And I'm applying to Moordale, and she, uh, suggested it would be cool if we went together. Like, as friends."

"Oh," Otis says. "Mum, can we please go talk on the patio?" He tries his best to grin at Ola. "Don't worry, I'd be happy to take you to the dance. It's a good chance to meet some people and all. You'll have a good time."

Jean gets up and follows out onto the deck and as soon as she closes the sliding doors, Otis turns around and glares at her. "What the actual fuck is this," he says.

"Otis," Jean gasps. "Modulate your tone. Take a few breaths and..."

"You know about Abby sleeping here, don't you," he asks. "And this is your clever little plan to break us up."

"Otis," she replies, annoyed. "That's not it at all. Although you are only sixteen, and you've been seeing far too much of her."

"What's wrong with her," Otis asks. "Why don't you like her?"

"Well, considering you felt the need to hide her from me until she drunkenly broke in, I've been asking myself 'what's wrong with her' quite a bit," Jean says. "And again, you are only sixteen. I don't understand why you're so attached to this girl that you can't possibly go out with another girl."

"It's my life," Otis says. "That's why!"

"Look, someday you'll thank me for this," Jean says. "I...knew her father in school, and he made a real habit of taking advantage of inexperienced..."

"So she has to be exactly like her dad, then," Otis barks back. "What about her nan? Who, by the way, only had nice things to say about you."

"No, look, we need to stop talking in circles about this," Jean says. "There are more important things in the world than your little puppy love romance, alright?"

"Like...oh my God, you did this to impress Jakob, didn't you," Otis asks.

The look on Jean's face says it all. "Look, Ola is transferring in the middle of the semester," Jean says, "and I thought it would be a kind gesture..."

"...If you had asked me about it," Otis shoots back. "You can't just use me as a pawn for your love life. And you think Abby's the problem? At least I never broke the sink chasing her."

"I don't appreciate the accusation that..."

Otis storms off, and Jean asks, "Where are you going?"

"To take Ola to the dance," he says. "Where I'll be seeing Abby and probably coming home with her."

"Otis, I understand my behavior may be a bit...irrational," Jean starts as Otis slides the door open and closes it behind him.

She sighs and reopens the door, following in after him.

"Hi," he says to Ola. "Ready to go?"

"Sure," she says, grinning. He leads her out the door, and she calls back, "Bye, Dad!" and Otis says absolutely nothing to Jean.

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As Adam ties his tie in the mirror, Michael comes in behind him, with a dour look on his face.

"Hi, Dad," he says, forcing himself to laugh. "What's up? Thinking about bunking off the dance?"

Michael stares down at him. "Adam, I know that wasn't your essay," he says, and Adam's face falls.

"Oh," Adam manages.

"I didn't want to break your mother's heart by telling her the truth," Michael says. "To think my son is a cheater. I've never been so ashamed of anything in  my life."

"Oh, sweetheart, she's beautiful," Maureen coos as soon as she meets Charity at their doorstep.

Adam looks down at the floorboards. "Enjoy tonight," Michael goes on. "It'll be one of your last hurrahs."

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As soon as Otis and Ola run into Jackson and Maeve, he knows there's trouble. "Hi," Maeve says, her eyes flickering over to Ola. "Who's this?"

"Oh, I'm Ola," Ola says, holding out her hand. Maeve simply glares at it, so Jackson shakes her hand instead. "I'm Jackson," he replies.

"Do you mind if I...borrow your date for a moment," Maeve asks. "Thanks."

She grabs Otis by the hand and drags him down the hall. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing," she asks.

"Oh, uh, is Abby here yet," he asks, nervously looking away.

"You're worried about that," Maeve asks. "Considering you just waltzed in with some strange girl, I would assume you didn't give a shit."

"Look, it's not a date, okay? My mum..."

"Oh, wow, your mum," Maeve says. "Abby's least favorite topic."

"Look, when I came downstairs, Ola was already there," Otis says. "And she's transferring here next semester. What was I supposed to say?"

"No," Maeve says. "N-O. Simple!"

"Look, I'm just escorting her," Otis says. "It's really not a big deal. Abby will..."

"Otis," her voice calls out. He turns around and sees Abby herself, in a black dress with a cross front top and a daisy patterned skirt. She runs up and kisses him. "You look great," she says. "Right now, the band's playing, so if you want, we can dance or talk or whatever."

"I..."

At that point, Ola walks up and holds out her hand to Abby. "You must be Otis' girlfriend," she says with a grin. "From what I gathered on the patio, I'm the date his mother set him up with in the hopes he'd be spontaneously inspired to break up with you. Or so she could shag my father."

Abby possessively keeps her arms wrapped around the nape of Otis' neck. "Not to worry," Ola goes on. "I'm not particularly interested. I've been checking out Moordale as my school's closing, and I just thought this was a good way to meet people."

"Oh, that's nice," Abby manages. "Uh, I'm new too, actually. If I wasn't, I'd show you around, but...if you know Otis and you've met Maeve, you pretty much already know everyone I know." She loosens her grip on Otis and shakes Ola's hand.

"I'm sorry," Ola says. "This is...a pretty awkward situation."

"We can just pretend it isn't," Abby says. "I mean, it's not your fault." She looks around. "Do you dance?"

"Yeah," Ola says.

"Great," Abby says. "We'll set Otis up with a table and then we can hit the floor."

"Okay," Ola says. "See you out there?"

"Totally," Abby says, watching Ola walk toward the auditorium.

"You took that well," Maeve notes.

"It's not her fault," Abby repeats. "It's not her fault at all that Otis' mom is an overcontrolling, obsessive..." She cuts herself off, looking at Otis. "I'm sorry."

"No, please, go on," he says. "She's also manipulative, stubborn, and hypocritical."

"I'm sorry," Abby says. "Let's not let it ruin our night."

"Maeve," Jackson calls out. "Photos?"

Maeve rolls her eyes. "He's been pestering me about those since we got here," she says. "Besides, we lost my brother. I'll see you guys later." She walks over to Jackson, as Abby squeezes Otis' hand.

"Let's just get in there," she says, smiling wanly. "Might as well make your first and only school dance special. Hell, by the end of the evening, you might even dance once."

Otis smiles back. "I doubt it."

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After a few insistent requests from both Ola and Abby, Otis finds himself doing the robot alongside Ola as Abby throws herself into a series of New Jack Swing-inspired dance moves, taking the motto "Dance like no one's watching" as seriously as possible.

What they don't notice is Adam staring at them miserably. "Isn't that your friend Abby," Charity asks, pointing at them from the table they're parked at.

"She's not my friend," Adam says. "Wrecked that. Just like I wreck everything else."

"Have you tried saying you're sorry," Charity asks.

"It's not worth it," Adam says.

"Well, I'm going to see what's up with the cute girl in the tux," Charity says, smoothing her spaghetti-strapped glittering silver dress. "Don't wait up."

Adam slumps in his chair, as he looks over at Aimee and her new boyfriend Steve, having the time of their lives. Everyone here is living it up, and here he is. Last hurrah? More like time in solitary confinement before his inevitable death sentence.

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"Who's that," Ola says, looking over her shoulder at the girl with red textured hair and a glittering dress giving her the eyes as she sips punch across the room.

"I don't know her," Otis admits as Abby sighs.

"That's Charity," she explains. "She goes to St. Agnes. She's...a lot. Really flirty and comes on very strong. If you're her target, get ready for excessive..."

"She's really gorgeous," Ola says earnestly, following her with her eyes.

"Look, she's a lot like that Moto Moto meme," Abby goes on. "Her eyes basically have a lock-on target function. I'm surprised she hasn't already..."

"Ouch," one girl shouts as Charity makes a beeline towards them, knocking her out the way.

"Heyyyyy," Charity trills, placing a hand on Ola's shoulder. "I'm Charity. What's your name?"

"Ola," Ola says, biting her lip slightly.

"My date's being a sadsack," Charity says. "Will you dance with me?"

"Okay," Ola says, nodding enthusiastically.

"You wanna take a break," Abby asks Otis and he nods, as they slowly back away from Charity throwing it back so hard multiple people have to move.

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"Look, Maeve, you shouldn't worry," Abby says as she and Maeve walk into the girls' room. "Sean probably hasn't done anything too bad...hopefully."

At that moment, they hear the sound of two people giggling, and then Charity and Ola exit one of the stalls. Ola's lipstick is smeared across her face, and she shoots finger guns at Charity. "See you back out there, yeah?"

"Totally," Charity coos, watching Ola walk away.

"Hi," Abby says. "Sorry to interrupt."

Charity rolls her eyes. "You didn't interrupt anything," she says. "She only wanted to...kiss. Boring. May as well have stuck with Adam." She starts washing her hands and looks Maeve up and down. "Hello."

"Hi," Maeve says. "Not available."

Charity sniffs. "Frigid," she scoffs. She finishes washing her hands and starts fixing her mascara. "So do any kids who go to school here put out? 'Cos I may as well be at one of the St. Ignatius mixers."

"Yeah," Abby says. "Not gonna help you there."

"Whatever," Charity says. "By the way, Adam's all bent out of shape about your fight. Can you just forgive him so he'll stop being such a bummer?"

"It's not that simple," Abby says.

"Of course it's not," Charity says. "This whole dance is a waste of time. I wasn't expecting 'happily ever after,' but this whole event is bereft of quick 'happy endings' as well. False advertising."

Charity saunters toward the exit as the other two finish washing their hands. She turns her head back around. "By the way," she adds, "if your brother is that adorable scruffy guy with the brown hair who turned me down for being 'too young', he's in the hallway running his mouth to the headmaster."

"Shit," Maeve says, turning and running after him.

"Thanks," Abby says to Charity as she follows after her. "Very helpful."

Upon exiting the bathroom, Mr. Hendricks sticks his head out of the auditorium doors. "Come on, Abby," he shouts. "It's time. The band's on break and the natives are getting restless."

"Alright," she calls. She turns to where Maeve is looking at her brother. "Do you need..."

"It'll be fine," Maeve says. "Go."

"Alright," Abby says. "But text me if something's wrong. I can trade off with Hendricks." She jogs back into the auditorium and runs up onto the stage.

"And now introducing...in her first live appearance...the one and only legendary...Abby Hammond," Mr. Hendricks announces. She looks out into the crowd, sees Otis giving her a thumbs up and smiles.

The first forty two minutes go by all too quick, as Abby plays some of her favorite mashups: "Everybody's Victorious," "Bills Will Roll," "Shaxicula," and "Dr. Dinosaur." And even when she considers that the tracks she uses might combine songs too outdated to be relevant to her peers and too jarring to hear mixed together, the crowd seems to be loving it. Even the Untouchables are dancing. Then, when it's time for the last track, she swallows her pride, and cues it up, before leaning into the mic.

"So," Abby says. "I kind of hate doing this, but...it's time to slow it down. So, uh, here's 'Every Car You Chase.'"

She starts playing the song and steps down from the booth, crossing the floor over to Otis. She looks up at him and grins. "So...wanna dance?"

"Yeah, dummy," he says, and she puts her head in his shoulder. And no, they don't share a dramatic, brief kiss, and the floor doesn't clear so they're the only ones dancing, but as far as Abby can say, this is still her dream come true.