Bass thumped through the walls. "It's no Rattlesnake Creek," Lilith said, "but I guess we'll make do."
"We can do better than that," Cam said. "We can rock this place so hard its walls come tumbling down. It'll be the fall of Rome all over again."
"My, you're ambitious," Lilith teased, taking his arm.
"Thanks for the lift, Roland." Cam turned to the demon, who closed the limo door behind him.
"Break a leg, brother," Roland called to his friend.
Cam and Lilith entered the faux Colosseum through a long arch made of gold and silver balloons. On the other side they found the party in full swing. Students clustered around candlelit cocktail tables, laughing, flirting, snacking on cheese cubes, and sipping punch. Others danced to fast pop songs on a big parquet dance floor that was open to the stars.
Cam's gaze was drawn to the back of the Colosseum, where a grand stage had been erected, rising twenty feet above the rest of prom. Red velvet curtains created a backstage area where the other bands could wait before they played. Off to one side was a small judges' table over which hung a banner: TRUMBULL PREP WELCOMES THE FOUR HORSEMEN.
Lilith nudged Cam and pointed at the dance floor. "Check out Luis."
Cam followed her finger to find their drummer, wearing a white tuxedo and strutting like a chicken around Karen Walker, who was burying her face in her hands.
"Work it, Luis!" Lilith called out.
"What?" Luis shouted at her over the music. "This is my jam. I need to move my feet."
Just then, Dean Miller walked up to Lilith and Cam. He wore a dark tux with a thin black tie that ran like a stripe down his chest. "Tarkenton's been looking for you all night." He handed Cam a folded blue cloth. "Prom court. You have to wear it. You'd know that if you'd bothered to show up to our last meeting."
Lilith buried a laugh in the crook of her elbow as Cam held up a pastel-blue satin sash with his name printed across it in white block letters. Dean wore a matching sash over his tux that read Dean Miller.
"Great." Cam raised the sash. "Good luck tonight, man."
"Thanks, but unlike you, I don't need it," Dean said with a smirk as Chloe King came up and slipped her arm through his.
"Dean, I need you for a photo--"
"Chloe," Lilith said. "Hi."
Chloe looked at Lilith's dress, clearly impressed. "Did you hire a stylist or something? Because you actually look nice."
"Thanks, I guess," Lilith said. "You look nice, too."
Chloe turned to Cam and narrowed her eyes. "You'd better treat her right," she said before leading Dean away.
"Since when are you and Chloe King friends?" Cam asked.
"I don't know if I'd say friends," Lilith said, "but we hashed some stuff out the other day. She's not so bad. And she's right." Lilith raised an eyebrow. "You'd better treat me right."
"I know," Cam said. It was the thing he felt most committed to in the universe.
Lilith took his blue prom-court sash and pitched it into a nearby trash can. "Now that that's settled, let's make a plan." She glanced at her watch. "The battle starts in twenty minutes. I think we have time for a dance before we have to get ready."
"You're the boss," Cam said, drawing Lilith close and moving toward the dance floor.
Luckily the next song was a slow one, the kind that seemed to make everyone want to wrap their arms around someone. Soon, Lilith and Cam were surrounded by couples, the dance floor bright with jewel-colored dresses and elegantly contrasting tuxedos. Kids Cam had passed a dozen times in the forgettable halls of Trumbull now looked extraordinary under the starlight, smiling as they swayed to the music. It tormented Cam that everyone here felt like they were on the brink of everything, when in fact they were only on the brink of the end.
He drew Lilith close. He focused on her only. He loved the light touch of her fingers on his shoulders. He loved the way her iris corsage smelled against her skin and the heat of her against him. He closed his eyes and let the rest of Crossroads disappear, imagining they were alone together.
They had only danced together once before last night at Rattlesnake Creek, in Canaan, by the river, right after Cam had proposed. He remembered how Lilith had seemed featherlight that first time they had danced, rising off the ground with the slightest sway of Cam's body.
She felt the same right now. Her feet skimmed the dance floor, and she looked up at Cam with pure delight in her eyes. She was happy. He could feel it. He was, too. He closed his eyes and let his memory take them back to Canaan, where they'd once been so open and free.
"I love you," he whispered before he could stop himself.
"What'd you say?" Lilith shouted, her voice barely louder than the music. "You're looking for the bathroom?" She pulled away and glanced around, looking for signs for the men's room.
"No, no," Cam said, drawing her back into his arms, wishing he hadn't spoiled the mood. "I said"--but he couldn't, not now, not yet--"I said nice moves."
"Enjoy 'em while they last," she shouted. "We gotta get backstage."
The song ended, and everyone turned toward the stage as Tarkenton strode up the steps. He wore a navy tuxedo with a red rose pinned to his lapel. He tweaked his mustache and nervously cleared his throat as he approached the microphone.
"All contestants in tonight's Battle of the Bands should now have reported backstage," he said, casting his gaze around the prom. "This is the last call for all contestants in the Battle of the Bands. Please use the door at stage left."
"We're cutting it close," Lilith said, grabbing Cam's hand and pulling him through the throng of students, closer to the stage.
"Don't I know it," Cam muttered to himself.
They cut left, scooting around a girl and boy who were kissing as if they were the only ones in the room, then finding the black door at stage left where the contestants were supposed to check in.
Cam held it open for Lilith. On the other side was a dimly lit, narrow hallway.
"This way." Lilith took his hand, gesturing to a poster with an arrow. They took a left and then a right, then found the row of dressing rooms with labeled doors: Love and Idleness, Death of the Author, the Perceived Slights, the Four Horsemen, and, at the end of the hall, Revenge. Lilith turned the knob.
Inside, Luis sat in a director's chair, shoveling peanut M&M's into his mouth, his feet up on a vanity. He had changed into a black cowboy shirt and white slacks, with a black fedora tilted low. His eyes were closed, and he was rehearing the backup harmonies to "Somebody's Other Blues" under his breath.
On a couch in the corner, Jean was making out with his girlfriend Kimi, who looked great in her long cranberry satin dress. He broke away from their kiss for a moment to look up and give Cam and Lilith a peace sign.
"Ready to rock, man?" he said, adjusting the tan leather fringed vest he'd found at the Salvation Army.
Behind them, Cam's guitar was propped against Jean's synth, next to Jean and Luis's tuxedos, which had been removed and hung up carefully--clearly by Jean's girlfriend.
Kimi stood up and straightened her dress. "Time for me to scoot," she said. From the dressing-room door, she blew Jean a kiss. "Make me proud."
Jean reached up to catch the air kiss, which made Cam and Lilith burst out laughing.
"It's our thing," Jean said. "Do I make fun of you guys for getting into fights every fifteen minutes? I do not, because that's your thing."
Cam glanced at Lilith. "We haven't fought in at least half an hour."
"We're overdue," Lilith agreed. Then she put her hand on Jean's shoulder. "Hey, thanks for putting up with all of our drama."
"Nah," Jean said. "You should see how Kimi gets when I don't return her texts in under sixty seconds."
"It's prom!" Luis said. "When in the history of the world has the lead-up to prom not inspired major drama?" He pulled his drumsticks from his back pocket and practiced a drum roll on his thighs.
"Two minutes to show," a voice called from the hallway. Cam leaned his head out to find L
uc idling outside with a clipboard and a headset. He flashed Cam a lupine grin and lowered his voice to its true pitch. "You ready for this, Cambriel?"
"Born ready," Cam said. Of course, that wasn't true. He hadn't even felt close to ready to win the wager against Lucifer until he'd held Lilith in his arms last night.
The devil laughed, popping a few of the lightbulbs in the ceiling with a cackle so grating it was inaudible to everyone but Cam. His voice went back to its fake smoothness when he announced, "All bands, report to your positions in the wings."
Cam came back into the dressing room and closed the door, hoping the others couldn't tell he was riled. He glanced at Luis in the mirror. The drummer's complexion had turned sallow.
"You okay?" Cam asked.
"I think I'm going to be sick," Luis said.
"I told you not to eat all those M&M's," Jean said, shaking his head.
"It's not that." Luis was breathing shallowly, resting his palms on the vanity. "None of you guys get stage fright?"
"I do," Lilith said, and Cam looked over to find her trembling. "Two weeks ago I would never have thought I'd be standing here. Now that I am, I want to be great. I don't want to screw up because I'm nervous. I don't want to throw it all away."
"The thing about performing music no one's heard before," Jean said, tucking his Moog under his arm, "is no one knows if you screw up."
"But I would know," Lilith said.
Cam sat down on the vanity, facing Lilith. He touched her chin and said softly, "We just go out there and do our best."
"What if my best isn't good enough?" Lilith asked, looking down. "What if this was all a mistake?"
Cam put his hands on her shoulders. "The measure of this band is not a three-minute performance at prom. The measure of this band is all the steps it took us to get here. You writing those songs. Us learning to play them together. All our practices. Our trip to the Salvation Army. The lyrics contest you won."
He looked from Lilith to Jean to Luis and found them hanging on his words, so he kept going. "It's the fact that we all actually like each other now. And every time you threw me out of the band. And every time you graciously let me back in. That's Revenge. As long as we remember that, nothing can stop us." He took a deep breath, hoping the others didn't notice the tremor in his voice. "And if we don't succeed, at least we'll have had this time together. Even if this is the end, it was worth it to get to play with you for a little while."
Lilith tilted her head at Cam and gazed deep into his eyes. She mouthed something Cam didn't quite catch. His heart soared as he leaned close to her lips.
"What did you say?"
"I said thank you. I feel better now. I'm ready."
Well, that was something. But would it be enough?
Cam lifted his guitar off its stand. "Let's go."
The four members of Revenge gathered in a corner of the wings, instruments tucked under their arms. They were all supposed to enter from stage left, and there were no curtains separating the various acts, so the performers just huddled in little cliques. There was a certain electricity backstage, made of nerves and anticipation and hair spray. Everyone could feel it.
From behind the curtain, Cam peeked out at the crowd on the dance floor. With the stage lights off, he could see them clearly. They were restless but excited, jostling each other, flirting, giggling over nothing, one boy bodysurfing through the mass of kids. Even the faculty hovering at the edges of the crowd seemed cheerful. Cam knew a band was lucky to have an audience in this mood. They wanted something from the show, something that matched their own energy that night, which was supercharged.
At the judges' table to the right of the stage, Tarkenton was trying to converse with four punk-rock boys. Cam had almost forgotten that Ike Ligon was judging this thing, and he was amused to see what passed for a "rock star" in Lilith's Hell. The lead singer of the band was pouty enough, with spiky blond hair and long, lean limbs, but the other three looked like they had about two brain cells between them. Cam reminded himself that this was Lilith's favorite band and told himself that maybe they looked better onstage.
A flash of movement behind the judges' table caught Cam's attention. Arriane and Roland were there, setting up folding chairs for Lilith's mother and brother. Arriane caught Cam's eye and pointed: Look up. He glanced overhead and was cheered to see that she had somehow hung the disco ball from the rafters above the stage.
He looked back to Arriane and gestured his applause. Nice, he mouthed. Cam thought of all that his friends had done for him last night at Rattlesnake Creek, and wondered if he could have gotten this far with Lilith without them.
Roland looked up at the stars, worry straining his smooth brow. Cam's gaze followed his friend's. The starlight, which seemed strangely bright tonight, wasn't starlight at all. Instead, Lucifer's demons had gathered high in the firmament above. It was their eyes that shone like stars through the wildfire smoke. Cam bristled, knowing they were here to see what would become of him. The Trumbull kids weren't the only ones eager for a big performance tonight.
The houselights went out.
The crowd fell silent as a spotlight found Luc. He had changed into a blue pin-striped suit, wing-tip shoes, and a fuchsia pocket square. He held a gold-plated microphone and smiled at a teleprompter.
"Welcome to the Trumbull prom," his voice boomed. Whoops rose from the audience until Luc waved one hand and silenced the crowd. "I am honored to play a role in this momentous occasion. I know you're all eager to know who will be crowned prom king and queen. Coach Burroughs is backstage now, tallying your votes. First, we will commence with the much-anticipated Battle of the Bands."
"We love you, Chloe!" a few kids screamed from the front row.
"Some of the bands you'll hear are fan favorites," Luc said. "Some are relative unknowns, even to their relatives..." He waited for laughter, but instead, a half-full can of soda landed at his feet.
"Some," Luc continued, his voice darkening, "have never stood a chance." He turned and winked at Cam. "Here to fire the first shot, Love and Idleness!"
The audience sounded its approval as two sophomore girls dragged stools onto the stage. They looked like sisters, with dark skin, freckles, and pale blue eyes. One had white-blond curls and the other had a dyed black bob. They raised their ukuleles.
Cam was impressed to recognize the opening chords of an obscure folk song that had been passed down through time in dark speakeasies. It was called "Silver Dagger," and the first time he'd heard it had been a couple of hundred years ago, aboard a boat being tossed around a high sea in heavy blackness.
"She's badass," Jean said.
"Which one?" Luis said.
"Both of 'em," Jean said.
"You have a girlfriend," Luis said.
"Shhh," Jean said.
Cam tried to catch Lilith's eye, but she was locked in on the performance.
Love and Idleness was good and seemed to know it. But they would never know how well they had chosen their song, or that they were singing to ten thousand pairs of immortal ears that had been present when the song was first performed off the Barbary Coast. Cam knew some of the demons would be chanting along from above.
He stood behind Lilith, wrapped his arms around her waist, and swayed, singing softly in her ear.
"My daddy is a handsome devil..."
"You know this song?" Lilith asked, turning her head slightly so her cheek brushed Cam's lips. "It's catchy."
"Lilith," he said, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you."
Now she turned fully, as if she could hear the intensity in his voice.
"I don't know if it's the right time, but I have to let you know that--"
"Hey," a voice interrupted Cam, and a moment later Luc shoved Cam aside to stand in front of Lilith. "Have you kids signed the waiver yet? Every performer has to sign the waiver."
Lilith glanced at the densely printed document. "What's it say? It's hard to read in here."
"Just that you
won't sue King Media, and that we can use your image for promotional materials after the show."
"Really, Luc?" Cam said. "We have to do this right now?"
"Can't go onstage unless you do."
Cam speed-read the document to make sure he wasn't locking himself into any darker deal with Lucifer. It seemed, though, that it was nothing but a way to interrupt the moment. Cam dashed out his signature. "It's fine," he told Lilith, and watched as she signed, too.
Cam shoved the documents back at Lucifer, who slipped them in his pocket and grinned. By then, the performance was over and the applause for Love and Idleness had diminished.
Luc strode back onto the stage. "Provocative." He smirked. "Without further ado, our next band: Death of the Author!"
The crowd cheered weakly as a short kid named Jerry and his three friends strutted onto the stage. Cam cringed as Jerry tried to adjust the shared drum kit to fit his small stature. After a few painful moments, Lilith nudged Cam.
"We should help them," she said.
Cam was surprised, but of course Lilith was right. She really was different from the angry loner girl she'd been two weeks ago.
"Good idea," Cam said as they hurried onstage to help adjust the height of the drums.
When the instruments were tuned and the band was counting off, Lilith and Cam slipped back to the wings. Lilith didn't seem to care how bad Death of the Author was. She was simply happy to have helped a fellow musician. But she was the only one who was happy. Jean squirmed miserably as Jerry belted out the lyrics to a song called "Amalgamator."
"He doesn't even know what an amalgamator is," Jean said, shaking his head.
"Yeah," Luis said. "Totally. Um...what is an amalgamator?"
The audience was bored before the first verse ended. People booed and drifted away to buy sodas, but Death of the Author didn't notice. At the end of the song, Jerry embraced the mic, nearly falling over with adrenaline. "We love you, Crossroads!"
As Jerry and his band left the stage, Luc returned to it. "Our next act is already well-known throughout town," he said into the mic. "I give you the lovely and talented Perceived Slights!"
Applause echoed throughout the Colosseum as the crowd went wild.
Cam and Lilith peeked through the curtain to see the popular crowd from Trumbull all but rushing the stage. They were screaming, girls hoisted up on their dates' shoulders, chanting Chloe's name. Cam took Lilith's hand. Even if she had smoothed some things over with Chloe, it must be hard for her not to envy the reception the Perceived Slights were getting.