Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Hmm,” Pie says.
Hmm indeed.
We walk under the stream of flickering light, following it into the forest. And then, after we come around a bend and pass a large tree, we find our door.
It’s made of fireflies.
“Wow.” Pie smiles, her face lit up with the power of her inner glow. “That’s actually kinda cool.”
It is. I can’t deny it. There must be millions and millions of fireflies all bustling together to make that door.
“How do we open it?” Pie asks. But before I can answer, she’s already reaching forward with the hand I’m not holding. The fireflies continue to pour out, but they don’t mesh into the door. They make a handle.
Something tells me this door is for her, and her alone. Pie doesn’t hesitate. She leans forward and then we’re walking through. I just barely have enough time to wonder if the door will let me pass when we’re already on the other side.
Music blaring. Bodies moving to the beat. Little dots of flashing lights are spinning around the ballroom and when I look up, I get lost in the constellations being thrown off a disco ball.
“Wow.” Pie laughs this word out. Then she looks down at herself. “Oh, my God. What the hell am I wearing?”
I chuckle. Maybe I don’t recognize the exact year, but I know the decade. But then I see the banner on the other side of the room and all the details slip into place. “Look.” I point at it. “You are the height of nineteen eighty-two fashion.”
She laughs now. A full-on laugh. “This is the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen!”
She is wearing a greenish-blue—let’s go with iridescent turquoise—mini ruffle dress with a ruched bodice and puff arms. Her long human legs are covered in black, diamond-patterned tights and her shoes are the same color as the dress, but have giant black bows on them. I hide my smile with my hand, not wanting to laugh, but she is fuckin’ adorable in retro glam.
“Hey!” She slaps my arm playfully. But then she points at me with narrowed eyes. “Why do the gods dress me up like a joke every single time and you always look so hot?”
I look down at myself, not feeling very hot, but then shrug. “The tux is eternal. But look.” I lift up my iridescent turquoise silk tie. “We match.”
“Oh, my God, we do. We’re too cute, Pell.” Pie’s shoulders relax and she smiles as she takes in the room. The whole place is decorated in midnight blue and silver. Streamers, balloons, and more teenage bodies than I’ve ever been in one room with before.
“Oh!” Pie exclaims. “I get it! It’s prom!” She looks at me, very excited. “I never went to prom.”
I know what prom is. I’ve been around. But I’ve never been to one, so I just shrug. “Me either.”
Pie hooks her arm in mine. “This is fucking awesome!” She tilts her head up and looks at the ceiling. “Thank you, hallway gods!” Then she squeals. “Look!” The perimeter of the room is rectangular, like most ballrooms. And the outer edge is lined with dozens and dozens of sparkling chandeliers. But all down the middle there is a domed ceiling and it has been painted to look like the midnight sky splattered with silver stars. But that’s not what she’s pointing at. “There they are! The fireflies are here. And you know what that means?”
There are indeed fireflies up there. Thousands of them. All happily twinkling like they’re not caught in a fake sky. “We should find the next door?”
“What?” Pie looks crushed. “You don’t want to stay?”
“I do.” This is a lie. “But… there are some pressing matters to take care of, Pie. Should we—”
“We should. Look!” She points to other side of the room where the banner is. “The theme is ‘Firefly Nights.’ And the fireflies are up in the ceiling. This is a sign. Pell! A sign!”
“A sign of what?”
“It means we have work to do here.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You just want to go to prom.”
She deflates a little and pouts her lips. I really hate deflated Pie, so I immediately give in. “OK. Fine. We’ll go to prom.”
“No.” Now she’s moping. She’s doing that posture she calls the monkey walk. “Forget it. We don’t have to stay. It’s dumb.”
I spin her towards me. All the kids around us are bopping their heads around and playing their air guitars like… well, like it’s the Eighties. I place both my hands on Pie’s cheeks and smile at her. Immediately, her posture changes.
“Pie. Would you like to go to prom with me?”
Her whole face brightens, but then falls a little. “Not if you’re gonna hate it.”
“I’m not gonna hate it. I’m gonna love it. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never been to prom. It wasn’t a thing in my day. We did a little blood sacrifice to celebrate our coming of age—”