From the author: Holy heck we're at Homecoming at last! This was a very fun part to write. :D
The gymnasium had been transformed by pink floodlights and ribbons into something almost fleshy. A gastrointestinal pageant.
The room was sparsely populated as yet, loose clusters of kids in finery surrounded by empty dancefloor and skimming disco light. Myrtle gasped at the already thick smell of teenage hormones. Ian paused at her side, holding her arm tight. "Yeah," he said, grinning wide.
There was Armwood, by the punchbowl, tapping his wrist. "There's Timecop." Armwood had insisted on a...