At ten o'clock, the band stopped. Brooke walked up onto the little stage with a microphone.

“Hi, everyone! Oak Ridge Class of 2016!”

Everyone cheered.

“I just want to say thank you for coming. Organizing this was SO much work. Getting us sponsored took months of calls. But you guys are worth it!”

More cheers. Chad whistled.

“And now, a special guest! Our old history teacher, who's now the principal of Oak Ridge High. Mr. Hanley!”

Mr. Hanley walked up to the stage. He was in his sixties now, with white hair. He'd been the only teacher who ever told Chad Whitmore to sit down and be quiet.

I knew what he was going to say. We'd spoken on the phone two weeks earlier.

I'd asked him to keep the reunion money a secret. He'd asked me to change my mind. “Nick,” he'd said, “there are kids at Oak Ridge right now with oil on their hands and no money for prom. They need to know somebody like them made it. Let me tell them. Please.”

In the end, I'd said yes.

Now, at table twenty-four, my heart was pounding.