“I know that.” Arden shifted in her chair. “I just thought Mary might want to do the whole thing. Get dressed up, wear a corsage, take lots of pictures—”
“Awkward slow dancing,” Lydia suggested.
The corner of Arden’s mouth twitched. “Exactly. A night to remember.”
Lydia sat back sharply. “Tell me that’s not the theme.”
“No.” Arden rolled her eyes. “They used that for prom last year. They’re not going to repeat the same thing. That would be sad.”
“Sadder,” Lydia said under her breath.
“What is the theme?” Terry asked.
“The Cold War. Since it’sWinterFormal.”
Lydia stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Ha! Got you.” Arden patted herself on the back.
“That would actually be kind of cool though,” Terry said. “Kind of grim and eighties.”
“They could decorate the gym like the Berlin Wall,” Lydia suggested.
“What’s the real theme?” My question was partly intended to keep Arden from having an aneurysm, but I was also keen to know.
“Winter in Paris. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Do I have to wear a beret?” Lydia asked.
“Of course not.” Arden shook her juice box, frowning at its emptiness. She reached for a scone instead, ripping off the tip. “You don’t have to carry a baguette around either. Though I’m pushing for macarons on the refreshment table.”
Lydia grabbed the remainder of Arden’s scone. “So the only accessory I need is a date?”
“Ideally.” Arden darted a glance at Lydia’s face, as though hardly daring to believe she’d given in so easily. “It doesn’t have to be your soulmate or anything, just someone you can have fun with for a couple of hours.”
“And it doesn’t matter how or where we find them,” Lydia pressed.
Theyeswas already forming on Arden’s lips when she hesitated. “Are you talking about aPretty Womanthing?”
It was Lydia’s turn to stare in consternation. “No, I’m not planning topaysomeone to be my date. Which, not even speaking of the legal issues, why would you assume I need an escort service?”
“I don’t. I’m trying to figure out where your brain is on this.” She tapped the side of her head.
“I’m just saying it’s getting a little Cinderella up in here. Someday my prince will come.” Lydia stuck out her tongue.
Arden’s eyes widened in understanding. “I don’t care whether you go with a prince or a princess or whatever. I’m operating with the information I have, okay? I saw how Mary was checking out Mall Guy, and then Terry almost went out with you-know-who, and now you’re talking about this other person—”
“Pittaya,” I supplied.
“Who is a boy.” Arden held out a hand to me for confirmation and I nodded, thinking about how she’d been observing us all along, figuring out what we liked and trying to make it happen. Lydia and Terry noticed things too, in their crime-spotting way, and I’d always considered myself a student of human nature. For a moment, the connection among the four of us felt like a tangible thing, an invisible cord tying us together. Maybe we were destined to meet.
“Unless there’s something you want to tell me?” Arden directed the question to the table at large. “Personal preferences, stuff I can work with?”
Terry and I shook our heads in unison.Nothing to see here!
Lydia made a slashing motion with the side of her hand. “A human, with a pulse. Or a really top-shelf AI. You can put that on my profile.”
“And no criminal record,” Terry added.
