Miscount

"In the second row of tables, fifty seats from the far end of the hall, a girl screamed. Her voice shocked the silence with a single note and the way it reverberated was spine-chilling. She whipped her hand out and pointed to the back of the boy in front of her. His white shirt had caught, and the collar had been pulled down a few inches reveling his numbers on the skin of his upper back."
(Note: this is a finished story, it just needs some thorough editing.)