D is for Dance
If anyone cares/reads this story, I apologize for the late update. Now enjoy!
"No! I absolutely, positively, desperately does not need to wear that dress, nor do I want to in a billion years!" Sam Manson yelled to her mother, for she couldn't take it anymore. She threw the heap of pink frilly fabrics back into her mother's hand.
"Can't you understand? I don't like that dress, that sick color, or just anything with the word 'frilly' in it!" Sam shouted. "I've always wear whatever you want me to, but enough is enough! Can't I have a little freedom over what I choose to wear? What's wrong with my clothes anyways?"
"Everything!" Her mother screamed, didn't even bother to keep up her usual socialite calm demeanor. "Why can't you just be a proper daughter and do what I want? It's just a dress, a beautiful dress compared to your black rags! And this annual dance is very important to our family, all of your father's business partners are going to be presented there!"
"I don't want to go! I have to finish the English project with Danny—"
"That can wait. I'll make you a deal. You go to the Spring Ball and meet some fine young gentlemen, and I'll allow you to go out with that good-for-nothing Fenton boy."
"How did you know—"
"I'm not as ignorant as you think I am, Samantha. Now, about this dress, it's best to go with the pink…"
Sam was definitely miserable, she had to miss the date/project time with Danny, wear a pink dress no matter what, and meet a bunch of snobby boys. Luckily she talked herself out of the pink Barbie-doll makeup session.
Danny was understandable disappointed, but waved it off for Sam's sake.
And that's why here she stood, standing and doing absolutely nothing except for maintaining the fake smile on her face and nodding to every single boys coming her way. She wasn't in the mood to dance, and the dress was simply suffocating her.
Just when she was about to die from boredom, a familiar figure was walking to her. Black hair, blue eyes, and pretended-to-be-scrawny frame—
"Danny!" She smiled for the first time that night, walking as fast as she could in those killer high heels. "But how—" After all, the people who attended the ball were all high-class business men and officers, and there was no way her parents invited him.
"Let's just say it involves Vlad and my mom's cell phone number, and some suck up to him." Danny smiled.
"But you mom doesn't have a cell phone."
"Exactly." He gave her a pointed look as they broke into identical grins. "O lovely Miss Manson, care to dance?"
"Of course, Captain Phantom."
The two danced to the slow music, and it was not long before Sam thought, perhaps dancing isn't that terrible after all, especially with him.
They just couldn't wait to see Mrs. and Mr. Manson's faces when they saw her with him.
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