Chasing Butterflies Chapter 37: A Night to Remember (Patreon)

“Heyyyy! Olivia!”

Chrissy waved emphatically from a place near the front of the line, her mermaid-scaled dress shimmering with the movements. Luna stood quietly beside her, the dark blue of her own dress doing its best to hide her amidst the shadows of the gym’s exterior wall.

Olivia returned the wave and hurried toward the pair. As she approached, Chrissy’s mouth dropped open in a gasp. “Olivia! Oh my gosh, your dress!”

She scratched her neck with a touch of embarrassment. “You like it?”

“Like it? It’s amazing!” Chrissy flitted about her like a hummingbird, drinking in every detail with astonishment. “Where in the world did you find it?”

“Lucky thrift store find,” she partially lied. “I’m glad you like it. You look awesome, too.”

Olivia had obviously seen the agreeable girl in this dress during their shopping trip. However, Chrissy had pinned up her hair with a nice mother-of-pearl clip that really added to her appearance. Combined with some shimmery aqua and purple eyeshadow, she really did look like some sort of mermaid from a story. All she was missing was a shell bikini.

“Thanks!” The girl spun in place with a grin. “I was worried I was going to be late. It took me longer to get ready than I thought…”

“Late?” Olivia looked at the few dozen people ahead of them. “Seems to me like you were one of the first ones here. They’re not even going to let people in for, what, another ten minutes?”

“Well, sure, but someone’s gotta save us a spot, right?” Chrissy gestured to the long line that disappeared around the corner of the gym. “Otherwise, we’d be waiting in line for like half the dance! No one wants that!”

Olivia chuckled. Chrissy planned ahead better than many adults she’d known. She wondered if the girl would keep that as she grew older?

If she has kids, that’ll really put it to the test. Building in extra time for getting them ready to go took a long time to get right…

She turned to Luna and smiled. “You look really nice too, Luna. Especially your hair.”

The dark color of Luna’s dress did enable her tendency to hide. However, the shy girl’s platinum blonde hair reflected enough moonlight to make up for it. It fell in straight waves past her shoulders, with bangs swept to the side and pinned up to reveal her eyes.

Luna shifted slightly. “Thanks. You, too.”

They continued chatting idly as they waited—about band, the dance, and school in general. Most of the conversation was carried by Olivia herself and Chrissy, with Luna only chiming in on occasion. But the fact she spoke at all made Olivia happier than she would openly admit. Especially as she saw the girl’s body language slowly start to relax.

The line was just beginning to move when she spotted another figure approaching from the parking lot. A purple mess of ruffles and sequins so bright that it almost made Olivia squint, even in the early evening.

“Heyyyy! Emma!”

Chrissy began waving enthusiastically once more at the freshman flutes’ ringleader. Emma grinned and made a beeline in their direction, bounding toward the group like a peacock showing off her sparkling feathers.

Olivia silently thanked her past self for intervening on Luna’s behalf. Seeing the poor girl subjected to such dresses in the store had been bad enough. Seeing her wear them in public? Forget being shy, the blonde would’ve been trying to physically melt into the nearest wall—and completely failing to do so, seeing how impossible it was to take her eyes off of Emma’s own abomination.

The flute had been torn about what color of dress to wear. Eventually, she’d settled on an answer—all of them.

Emma grinned widely as her technicolor form slipped into line alongside them. “Hey! Looks like I made it right on time!”

“You did!” Chrissy agreed. “They just started letting people in. The line’s moving so slow, though.”

Emma turned to regard the other two members of her group. When she saw Olivia’s dress, her eyebrows rose. “Woah. I don’t remember seeing that one.”

“I found it after everyone else went home,” Olivia explained again. “Thrift shop.”

By Emma’s look, she wasn’t nearly as impressed with the piece as Chrissy had been. Which, given her fashion sense, wasn’t particularly surprising. But her brow furrowed further at her words. “You kept going? That’s no fun. I thought you were gonna pick something you’d already tried.”

Olivia shrugged. “I said I was going to look around a bit longer, didn’t I? And besides, it was just one more place.”

A way cheaper place, too.

Emma looked her over again and sighed. “Whatever. It’s fine.”

Olivia tilted her head. “What?”

“Huh? I said it’s fine.”

Olivia met the girl’s gaze. “Something’s clearly bothering you. If you don’t like the dress, I can understand that. It’s not exactly your style. But this seems like something deeper.”

It was possibly a bit too direct of a challenge. Emma’s thinning lips certainly indicated that was the case. But after a moment, the other freshman rolled her eyes and relented. “I mean, we went shopping to get dresses together. Isn’t that the point? It’s kinda weird if you go and get your own later.”

Olivia blinked in surprise. “I thought the point was to have fun and hang out.”

“Well, yeah, that too, but still.”

She couldn’t help but stare at the sparkly purple flute. It was such a strange thing to get hung up on. Petty, too. Were these really the kinds of minor inconveniences that bothered teenagers?

No wonder they’re always upset about something. If things being even slightly off from how you expect them to be ruins your day… I wonder if that’s just hormones, immaturity, or a combination of both?

Unfortunately, she knew plenty of women who had never quite grown out of that mindset as well.

Chrissy looked between the two, her brow furrowed. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but couldn’t figure out which side to take. Luna also remained quiet, content to fade into the background during the discussion.

Luckily, they were spared from further disagreement by the approach of more familiar faces. “Hey! Are those my flutes?”

They looked up in unison. A group of four dolled-up girls walked toward them, with Alyssa the section leader at the head. She was accompanied by one of the junior flutes, an upperclassman from colorguard, and—most surprising of all—Madison. The last freshman in the section, the one who’d declined their dress shopping invitation.

I guess I know what her other plans were, now. I honestly thought she’d had a date or something, but apparently not.

It didn’t particularly matter to her. But that seemed like the kind of choice that had political consequences among high schoolers.

Regardless, if Emma harbored any animosity over the snub, she didn’t show it. The freshman ringleader just grinned. “Hey! Oh my gosh, you all look sooo nice!”

“Thanks!” Alyssa scanned their group. Her smile took on a touch of amusement at Emma’s dress, then lingered on Olivia’s for a bit longer than the others. “You, too. Say, can we hop in line with you guys?”

“Of course!” Emma immediately agreed, not even waiting for Chrissy’s or anyone else’s input. “Come on in!”

Just like that, their group doubled in size. At this point, they were quite close to the front of the line, close enough that such a maneuver earned them nasty glares from the high schoolers behind them. But if Emma and Alyssa noticed, they certainly didn’t care. Olivia did see Luna and Chrissy shift a little uncomfortably, though.

They chatted away in relative harmony until they reached the entrance. The dull pulse of muffled music leaked through the doors, blaring to life as each group stepped through the doors. A quick ID and ticket check later, Olivia’s group followed suit.

It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the gym’s interior. The overhead lights were off, their fluorescent glow replaced with more colorful ones that spun and danced across the floor and walls. Music blared over the speakers, filling the space with the sound of a screeching guitar and drums. Already the interior was starting to fill with a respectably-sized crowd, making Olivia wonder if it would truly be able to fit everyone.

Immediately Olivia found herself bobbing her head to the song. Hey, this is Fall in Girls. I was just listening to this before I got sent back. She paused. Wait… is this song really twenty years old? There’s no way.

“Oh, hey! There’s the clarinets!” Alyssa shouted over the music and pointed. “And some brass, too!”

Immediately, she and her group broke off and started heading toward the group. Only the other junior flute spared a backward glance and an apologetic smile for the freshmen.

“See you around!”

“Oh! Right, see you!” Emma waved. The girl seemed to dim slightly, but didn’t make a move to pursue. The other freshmen just looked at the retreating group in confusion.

Wow. That’s… kind of a jerk thing to do. Just latch on to skip the line, then dip as soon as you’re inside? Come on.

Olivia was really starting to get fed up with teenage girl behavior.

“C’mon.” She nodded toward the group. “Let’s go say hi, too.”

“Huh?” Chrissy blinked. “But she just—”

“We’re in band too, remember? So there shouldn’t be a problem.” Olivia shrugged. “Besides, I think I see Danny over there. Aren’t you friends with him, Chrissy?”

Chrissy looked over, eyes brightening as she nodded. “Oh! You’re right!”

“Well, that settles it!” Emma puffed out her chest and nodded. “Let’s go!”

Olivia let the purple-clad girl lead the way. They stepped toward a group of about a dozen band kids, the girls arrayed in gemstone hued dresses while the boys wore button-down shirts and slacks. Their wardrobes saw considerably less variation, as was to be expected, but there were still a fair amount of colors even in this small group.

A trumpet with a green tie waved them down as they approached. “Hey! Chrissy! C’mon over!”

Alyssa glanced behind her, the senior obviously surprised at being followed. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she didn’t say anything as Olivia’s group melded into the larger one.

From there, Olivia honestly didn’t know what to expect. Dancing, obviously, but… Well, what else did people do at events like these? She honestly couldn’t remember.

As an adult, the closest approximation to a high school dance was ironically a club, which really only worked because there was alcohol involved. But sober? And among teenagers, an age group known for their spectacular levels of social anxiety? She rather suspected that it would end up being a bit of a dumpster fire.

But to her surprise, no one else seemed to see it that way. They talked, shouting over the music at each other and just generally having a great time. There was dancing, of course, though the usage of the term was a bit generous. In reality, the band kids tended to bounce or sway awkwardly in place. Except for the trio of class clowns, who made a show of enthusiastically acting out incredibly dated dance moves.

At least, she hoped it was ironic. The alternative was accepting that the sprinkler and the twist were actually in vogue. But considering the reputation of the boys she saw, she really doubted it.

I’m shocked that no one’s doing the Dougie. Unless that isn’t a thing yet. It has to be, right?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the song changed, the last of a woman’s falsetto fading away into a driving drum and synth beat. It sounded familiar, but she didn’t manage to fully place the melody until a man began rapping over the beat.

Ok, wow. I know all of these songs apparently. She frowned as the recognizable throwback hits kept on coming. I know this was my childhood, so it makes sense. But not all the music I listen to is this dated… right?

This whole event was making her feel her age quite acutely. More so than anything else so far. But looking around, she also couldn’t help but smile at the infectious happiness of the dancing kids around her. Even Luna seemed to be enjoying herself, though her own movements veered rather strongly toward the “awkward bobbing” end of the spectrum.

Their group grew and grew as more kids flooded into the dance, shrinking and expanding as pieces of the group broke off and rejoined the main mass. Despite Olivia’s misgivings. The gym proved up to the task of containing the sheer number of students pouring in. Though she did start to notice a distinct lack of personal space around her.

Another song came on, one of those universal party songs that came with instructions baked into the lyrics. It was the kind of thing that sent groans through any self-respecting adult. But as she eyed the crowd with amusement, Olivia felt a tug at her elbow.

“C’mon! You gotta dance, too!”

Chrissy grinned at her, eyes shining with enthusiasm. Olivia realized that she really hadn’t been taking part much in the festivities. She’d simply been an observer, watching everything with the detached interest of someone looking at a zoo exhibit.

She sighed and smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

And so she did. She joined in as the majority of the band kids stopped to participate in the choreographed dance, feeling like a complete and utter fool as she did. A fool that was having a lot of fun.

If Jason could see me now.

***

The cool night air filled Olivia’s lungs, chasing away the cloying stuffiness of the gym’s interior. She hadn’t honestly realized just how warm it was in there. But as more and more kids added themselves to the press of bodies, the temperature had risen like water in the old frog in a boiling pot analogy.

She wiped a slight sheen of sweat from her forehead, ridding herself of the now icy bits of moisture before setting off in search of something to drink. The back exit of the gym had been fenced off to form a small pavilion, an escape for overheated students and those seeking just a slight bit of a reprieve from the music and festivities inside. Long tables covered in white cloth bore a collection of small refreshments—cookies, brownies, and other snacks that contained far too much sugar for her to even consider trying. Nearby sat rows of little cups filled with clear, brown, or orange liquid.

Olivia stepped toward one. She lifted the cup to her lips, closing her eyes as she tipped the clear liquid back—then froze.

Dangit. This is also soda.

She grimaced and eyed the table again. Was everything here filled with sugar?

For a moment, Olivia considered spitting out the bare mouthful, but decided against it. That would’ve been more than a little gross. Instead, she renewed her search, peeking between the other students milling about with a careful eye to identify carbonation.

“Hey.”

She froze in place. Olivia stayed perfectly still, like a prey animal doing its best to avoid detection. Maybe the voice hadn’t been addressing her. Maybe she really was that lucky.

“Hey. Olivia, right?”

The faint wisp of hope evaporated like mist. Woodenly, she turned to face the speaker, already knowing who she’d see.

It was a tall boy, lean with dark, curly hair. He wore a light lavender shirt beneath a darker vest and slacks, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A thin white scar bisected one of his eyebrows and his nose was ever so slightly hooked, enough to be noticeable but not the most prominent feature on his face. That distinction belonged to his stunningly emerald eyes.

He stood, smiling at her with casual confidence. This was someone used to people, used to getting along with them. And getting what he wanted from them.

Of course, she knew exactly who he was. He was Lance Vincent. Junior, current section leader of the tenor saxophones, and all-around charismatic guy. Especially among the band kids.

He was also Olivia’s first boyfriend.