"Ah!" Courtney gasped, clutching her chest.
"I know, I know! Sorry, but this is what proper young ladies were to these things in these days!" Mrs. Dimond apologized.
"Then I, ah, d-don't want to be a p-proper laaady!" Courtney gasped.
"I'm sorry."
"For wha'... ah! To tight! To tight!" Courtney could barley get out those last four words. Mrs. Dimond loosened the straps of the girl's corset, so she could breathe.
"Are you girls almost done in there?" Mr. Dimond asked though the door.
"Almost!" Mrs. Dimond called. She helped Courtney off the stool.
"Doesn't she look like a princess?" Mrs. Dimond asked, as Courtney exited the bed room.
Mark's eyes grew wide. Probably from the shock of seeing Courtney in a corset. Dodger clapped as she won an award. Witch she should have. The 'I-can-breath-in-this-thing' award.
"Simply stunning!" Mr. Dimond said. Courtney forced out a smile. Then they left for the dinner.
"Ah! So good to see you! And are all of these yours?" Mr. Dimond's boss asked.
"Oh, no, sir! Only Mark, here! Dodger and Courtney are family friends."
"Very well, you have a seat at our table."
The man led them to a table near the dance floor. Mark and Courtney sat next to each other.
For most of the evening, the men discussed business, Mr. and Mrs. Dimond danced with the happy couples, and Mark and Courtney laughed at them. Things seemed to be going well, until...
"Mark! Courtney!" Mrs. Dimond pulled her son and the girl out of their chairs and positioned them on the dance floor.
"Mom!" Mark protested.
Mrs. Dimond laughed and left back to the table. The music started playing, and the other couples forced them to either start dancing to get trampled. They chose to dance.
Mark didn't miss a beat. Those dance lessons, that Bobby made fun of him for, really paid off. Courtney had a bit more trouble keeping up. She stepped on his foot twice.
The crowd of people around them grew denser, forcing them closer together. Eventually, they were so close that Courtney could feel Mark's heart beat next to hers.
Courtney was struggling for breath. She gripped Mark's hand tighter. Her palms were sweating. Her nails dug into Mark's shoulder. Her head felt light, and her body weak. Her arm trembled.
"I can't breathe," she gasped.
"What? We're just dancing, Court..."
"No, Mark, I really, ca', ah..."
Then everything fell into darkness.