“Afraid I left that back at home,” Knox said.

“I guess we’ll have to catch up tomorrow before school starts. Knox…” Anamae asked.

“Turner,” he said.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning, Knox Turner.” She gave him a playful smile before turning away. When we were halfway down the path, she burst into uncontrollable giggles that carried deep into the woods.

“Okay,” Anamae said between snorts. “How could you have possibly forgotten about that Uh-Huh?”

Another Anamae-ism. It was her way of letting me know the obvious. Knox was hot. “I guess he’s not so bad when you realize he’s not a serial killer.”

“Yeah, I might have been a little premature in jumping to that conclusion. But girl, have you ever seen such blue eyes?” she asked, climbing into her car.

“I guess this means I’m off the hook, since you have a date?” I asked hopefully.

“What? No way. Knox seems harmless enough, but I don’t even know him,” Anamae said. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” She gave the perfect expression of outrage, which I knew was false.

“The kind of girl who asks a total stranger to prom, of course,” I said.

“Suppose so,” Anamae said. “Seriously, I still want you there.”

“Because if he is a serial killer, it’ll take both of us to fight him off?”

“I know, right?” Anamae said. “All those delicious muscles. Easy to see why Victor was jealous of him.”

Shopping went better than I’d expected; well, at least my portion of the event. I bought the first dress I tried on. It met both of my requirements. It fit, and it wasn’t a horrid color. I already had a pair of shoes that worked, so for my part, shopping was over within thirty minutes.

Anamae, however…

The problem with being as beautiful as Anamae was that everything looked good on her. We bounced from boutique to boutique as Anamae tried on every color under the sun. When she finally decided on going with a midnight blue, she couldn’t find a style in the color she liked. After first begging and then demanding, she consented to the briefest of breaks so we could choke down a very late lunch.

I’d pretty much checked out by late afternoon, barely participating in her quest for the perfect dress. Occasionally, I’d give a noncommittal nod. Thankfully, Anamae found an ally in a tiny boutique that was new to us. The eager salesgirl had Anamae in a slinky midnight blue dress and matching shoes within fifteen minutes of our arrival. After Anamae paid, we were finally on our way home.

What an odd day it had been. I leaned against the headrest, thinking of the boy we’d met in the woods. An image of blue eyes, hidden by camouflage paint, swam to the front of my mind.

That’s not right.