I mean, I'm way too old to be dressing up for Halloween, right? But part of me — the kid in me, I guess — misses the chance to be somebody else, just for a night. I began to think about costumes. I could be Cleopatra, and Robert could be Antony. Or we could be Bonnie and Clyde, or Jack Sprat and his wife. And if Robert weren't into dressing up, so what? I could be Marilyn Monroe or Wonder Woman. I could be anybody!

". . . and we'll need lots of volunteers to make sure this dance is a success," Mr. King-bridge continued, his voice booming over the loudspeaker. "Let’s erase those unpleasant memories of the past, and have a ball! Sign

up as soon as you can to serve on the decorations committee, the refreshments committee, the tickets committee ..."

Mr. Kingbridge droned on and on, but I tuned out. I was too busy thinking about costume ideas. I couldn't wait to see how my friends would dress up. This dance was going to be awesome!

Later, during lunch period, everybody was talking about the dance. I was sitting at a table with my best friend Claudia Kishi, who's in the BSC, and some other BSC friends: Kristy Thomas, Mary Anne Spier, and Abby Stevenson. Alan Gray was at our table, too, and so were Pete Black, our class president, and Logan Bruno, Mary Anne's boyfriend.

"The only thing I don't understand," Alan was saying, "is what Kingbridge meant by 'unpleasant memories.' "

Pete rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. "Here's a dime, Alan. Go buy yourself a clue."

"Huh?" Alan asked. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're clueless," said Pete. "Think about it. The dance is scheduled for Friday night, and Halloween is on Saturday."

"So?" asked Alan, looking bewildered.

"So, Kingbridge has it all figured out. Friday

night is Mischief Night," explained Pete, "but if we're all busy with the dance, there won't be any mischief, so no 'unpleasant memories.' "