CRASH-ING THE PARTY [Gala, Open]

[Crash]

They never said a cardboard box was a violation of black-tie dress code, was it?

Not that Samantha would have been able to abide by the code. Her parents didn't have a lick of money for this kind of thing, always too busy spending it on tickets to their next archaeological destination. Not that she even wanted to go to some stupid party in the first place. She'd been to a school dance before, and it was just endless lights and noise and people too caught up in the spectacle to have a conversation with each other. Like she'd end up meeting any other EOS here . . . and like they'd even want to meet her in the first place.

Maybe if a few circumstances were different, she'd be out there having the time of her life. Like the clothes, for example: what she wore she wasn't fit for this kind of event at all. Even the nicest thing she had was too casual, too street, too dirty. And yet it was all she had, and all she could bring. Better than showing up wearing nothing but a beat up old piece of cardboard.

Maybe they'd just leave her be, thinking she was some sort of shipment crate of EOS vaccines they forgot to put way before the event. Maybe she could just sit in peace, learning names by osmosis and peering through the eyeholes of her box to sketch some Pokemon. Even if she couldn't attend the party in full, there could be some valuable learning happening. She just hoped nobody got too close and stumbled upon her. She couldn't even think of a more embarrassing first meeting.

Patience, deep breaths . . . the night would be over before she knew it. She'd be able to walk out with a full sketchbook, some Pokedex information, and the latest EOS news. And nobody would ever know she was there, the little outcast tossed around by fate.