Some people were disappointed that the homecoming dance didn't have a live band or a cutting-edge light system.

Not me.

Nothing could spoil my perfect evening. Not the canned music, not the c.r.a.ppy food, not the high-level security of teachers and parents making sure no couples got close on the dance floor, let alone got jiggy. But I was too busy shaking my dress and my stuff. In the small s.p.a.ce between Jared's tuxedoed body and heaven.

It didn't get any better than this-or so I thought.

The DJ's voice cut through the speakers. "We have a request for an oldie," he said, and the overhead lights flickered a couple of times. "From one best friend to another." Without a musical intro came the oh-so-familiar voice of Paul McCartney.

A laugh snaked its way up my throat, and I scanned the sea of faces for a particularly familiar one, undoubtedly smiling under her beauty-parlor halo of red curls.

Jared pulled me and my scrumptious layers of crinoline to his chest. One hundred percent oblivious to the song's pity party significance to me. And driving home the fact that even though Jared and I had been A Recognized Couple for almost a month, Alison and I still had our best-friend secrets.

His body moved in rhythm with the music, with me, with my heart. Snuffing out the painful memories by making new ones.

I closed my eyes. No more thinking.

When the song ended, I opened them to see Alison smirking at me. "I thought you'd like that," she said, and grabbed my arm, laughing. "Come on, let's go to the girls' room."

A doubtful frown creased Jared's brow, and he looked at Alison's date, Chas Zachary. (After making next to no official progress with Chas, Alison had finally asked him to the homecoming dance. And he'd been hanging on her like a lovesick puppy ever since. Which goes to show that sometimes crushes are made, not born.) "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" Jared asked Chas.

Chas shrugged.

Alison's smile widened. "Girl stuff."

I gave Jared's arm a be-right-back squeeze and followed her through the gyrating bodies.

The cool hallway air was a welcome relief on my skin, but the bathroom was packed, with some girls primping in front of sinks and mirrors, others in a wiggling line for the stalls. Still, it was fun to see everyone so decked out, to examine one another's dresses in full light.

While we waited, Alison told me that Harrison had gotten his b.u.t.t thrown out for being drunk. I hadn't seen it but didn't doubt it, either. I'd smelled alcohol on a bunch of people tonight.

Which was plain stupid to me. Was it really worth the risk of being thrown out?

A stall opened. A vision in fluffy lavender emerged-in a dress so captivating that it took me several seconds to glance at the face attached to it. To recognize Zoe.

"OmiG.o.d, Zoe, you look so beautiful!" I gushed, and gave her a quick hug.

She beamed. "So do you!"

I leaned in, lowering my voice to confidentially low. "I'm so glad the dance worked out for you."

She smiled. "Almost didn't. The dress, I mean." She leaned in closer. "I got lucky-"

A retch and spew from inside one of the stalls stopped our conversation-and all noise. Gazes raced around the bathroom. Arched brows. Smiles. And then names being silently mouthed.

I nudged Alison. She shrugged.

Then a voice, high and loud. "My dress! Oh G.o.d, my dress!" The stall door cracked open.

Heath Ledger himself couldn't have pulled me from my front-row seat. I was pretty sure I recognized that voice. ...

Kylie staggered out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Littered over a beaded top and flowing chiffon were brown stains and ... chunks. "This is a disaster, a frigging disaster!" she slurred. "What if I'm homecoming queen?"

I laughed. Out loud. Then covered my mouth. Real quick. And then I turned to Alison. "Where's your camera phone now?"

Alison giggled.

Kylie shot us both a look, then swayed toward the mirror. "Rascal and I will win, you know."

"Oh," Alison said, holding back another laugh. "I don't doubt that. Chunky."

We laughed again. We couldn't help it.

Kylie fixed us with her best squint. But with her makeup all smeared into racc.o.o.n eyes, she looked more pathetic than mean.

Alison moved into the empty stall. I followed Zoe out into the hallway.

"You were saying," I said. "About your dress?"

"Oh, I found a foundation that collects and recycles them. My mom and I went to their shop and I tried on a whole bunch. Of course, when I found this, I knew it was it."

She smiled, and I did, too.

"Anyway, it was totally free. I can keep it if I want, or return it. Isn't that incredible?"

"Incredible," I agreed.

"I'm going to take it back. I know it sounds crazy, but knowing I'm part of something bigger- sharing it with other girls who are going through hard times-actually makes me like the dress even more."

Crazy? Crazy wonderful.

These past months had been among the hardest I'd known. How could I have gotten through some of those moments without The Dress? To the naked eye, it was just material and thread. But to me, it had become a coping mechanism-even a friend.

Tonight was my dream come true-but I hadn't thought about what I'd do with my pink dream tomorrow. I just knew the bag was coming off the back of my door. That it was time to move on.

"Call me before you go," I said impulsively. "Why? You want to come?" "Yeah. I think I do. Me and my dress." Because suddenly, there was no doubt that I'd found the final and totally right use for my dress.

Donate it to a dress recycling charity so your dress can make some other girl as deliriously happy as it has made you.

Which, you know? Would be perfect. Just perfect.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

Do you have a "kindly worn" prom dress in your room?

Why not do as Nicolette and countless other girls have done and pa.s.s it on to a charitable dress recycling program?

Open up your heart and donate the dress that stole yours. Help another girl who might otherwise have to miss her homecoming, Spring Fling, or prom look and feel like a million dollars, too.

Come on ... you can do it!

Call local used-clothing stores and ask about nearby prom dress recycling programs. Or type the words "prom dress" + "recycle" + the name of your closest city into an Internet search engine.

Or better yet, do as some heroic teens have done in their communities and start your own prom dress charity! Be a leader. Keep the good times going, starting with your prom dress.

spent much of her high school days people-watching, which didn't do much for her grades but later proved one of her better mistakes. A longtime resident of Southern California, she lives with her husband and their three kids. She loves to travel and can ask where the bathroom is in many languages. This is Tina's first novel for young readers. Visit her at www.tinaferraro.com.

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