“It’s okay.” I knew better than to share my churning thoughts, but I had the feeling he’d picked up on my discomfort anyway because he was quiet on the way to the car and slumped in the passenger seat until I parked at the upscale hotel that was hosting the ball.

“My car makes the others look like they’re slumming it tonight.” Jasper laughed, but he was right—his beaten-up, dusty car was in between a BMW and a Lexus.

“Yeah,” I said weakly. Maybe Jasper was slumming it too. I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but it fit. Jasper went to a near-Ivy, had rich friends like Kellan and others, and had a stadium-lights bright future waiting for him. He wouldn’t drive a crap car forever. He didn’t belong with a guy with limited prospects like me. Now I was the quiet one as we made our way to the grand ballroom and checked our coats at the coat-check room.

“Wow.” Jasper inhaled sharply at the entrance to the ball. The place looked like a very upscale prom—lots of silver and gold decorations, multiple areas for taking pictures, tables for the silent auction items, a dance floor, sitting areas, and a fleet of waiters circulating with appetizers. Even the guests’ costumes were classy—lots of flappers and 1930s-era suits and elaborate celebrity look-alikes. More women than men were in costume, with a lot of older men in classic suits and tuxes hanging out in clumps. They exuded a wealthy vibe, as if they were too important for costumes.

We’d been told by Ned’s assistant that we’d be mainly working the photo areas, hanging out if people wanted pictures, encouraging people to check out the silent auction items. A couple of other charitable cosplay groups were also working the event. A number of Star Wars characters and popular superheroes were already hanging out near where people were snapping pictures. We met up with Kellan and the rest of the group, and I relaxed a little, feeling less like all eyeballs were on me.

The group was a little smaller than usual, a few people having had other obligations and April having not come because she’d had a low-grade fever Thursday and Jasper’s mom was worried about potential germs at a gathering this size. I felt bad that she’d had to miss this as she probably would have appreciated all the fancy stuff more than I could.

“Oh, honey, come here. I want a picture with Toga Guy.” A slightly tipsy woman a little younger than my mom in a silver dress dragged a guy in an elegant black tux over to where we stood. It took me a second to realize that I was Toga Guy. Jasper made a go-ahead motion, and I went to stand next to them by some columns and a gold backdrop.