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So somehow, Meredith had managed to lose track of her date. It wasn't even intentional like in fourth year at the Yule Ball, when she had basically fled for her life from the cousin her mother had conned her into accompanying.This time she actually didn't know where Gavin had gotten off to--or when she had gotten away from Gavin--and in a room full of masked faces, it was even harder to pick him out than normal. Which totally sucked, because she had been having a decent time so far, and---

Distracted by a promising prospect, Meredith rose up on her toes to see and--nope, not him.

Oh well, she thought as she plopped down into a chair on the far side of the room, away from most of the dancing couples. They'd probably run into each other again soon enough, and until then her feet could use with a good rest from the Heels of Death she had managed to shove her feet into (oh, the things she did for fashion). Curiously, she tilted her chin up to let her eyes scan casually over the crown assembled, pointedly not looking for the tool she almost at one time used to call a friend and his brash and loudmouthed date. Because she had no interest in them at all--especially not him. Which was why she hadn't been trying to figure out which one he was all night. At all.