Chapter Thirty-Eight
Gabby's POV
Ah, Valentine's Day. The holiday I haven't celebrated since elementary school, when everyone was required to bring cutesy little cards and candies for the other kids in their class. When middle school came around, and people started taking it more seriously, I suddenly treated February fourteenth as just another day. Sometimes my friends and I would exchange cards, but the older we got, the more childish that become. By high school, I was a Valentine's Scrooge.
This year, however, it was going to be so much better. Yes, the initial notion of it was extremely depressing, seeing as Al and I had just broken up. On the other hand, the Academy announced that there would be a formal dance to celebrate the holiday. I loved dances! As difficult as it was to get myself excited about dresses and shoes and accessories, I admit it's pretty nice to feel like a girl for once. The other Gabby (who, conveniently, prefers to go by Gabrielle) had offered to take me shopping for the occasion, and of course I accepted. It was like the eighth grade formal all over again!
A taxi took us to a mall about forty minutes away from the school. We went to some dress shop we'd found on the mall's website the other day while hanging out in the library. Not many people liked it there, since the dresses were unreasonably priced considering they almost always fell apart after one night; nevertheless, I only needed it for one night, so this was no problem. We looked around for at least an hour, modeling for each other and zipping one another's dresses. None of mine were particularly spectacular… except for the fourth one I tried on.
The colors were what drew me to it: a blue lighter than the sky on a spring afternoon, with a sash the color of grape juice. My sister once had told me both colors looked nice on me. It had straps so thin that it could almost be considered strapless, and flowed down past my knees (good. I hated my legs). Made of a satin-like material, it fit rather comfortably and, if I do say so myself, really complimented my figure. It was the only dress that wasn't too tight where it needed to be loose or too loose where it needed to be tight; it was perfect.
By now I figure you've deducted I'm not really the type to frequent accessorizing. That being said, when we had left all our discarded dresses on the Return hanger and grabbed the one's we decided on (Gabrielle's was strapless and a nice midnight blue color, hardly reaching her knees with a skirt made of mesh of a few shades of blue) and Gabrielle led me to the half of the store that sold accessories, I was a little lost. There were so many sets of gorgeous earrings, but thanks to a little childhood trauma involving a drastic ear infection, I'm permanently unable to get my freaking ears pierced. Whatever, I'd just make sure my hair covered my ears anyway. I ended up with just a diamond-studded dog collar necklace, and a few jangly black bracelets that probably didn't even match my attire.
Next was shoe shopping, in an outlet across the mall. The price was what persuaded my decision: I picked the cheapest shoes I had tried on, which were inch-high heels the same color as my bracelets. I'm sure it's pretty lame that I can't handle heels higher than maybe an inch and a half, but whatever. It's not like I wasn't gonna take the shoes off 10 minutes into the dance anyway.
Skip ahead to the night of the actual dance. You wouldn't believe what had happened: my sister and I helped each other out. First of all, we both did our self esteems some justice, 'cause when she stepped out of the bathroom and I turned away from the bed, we made brief eye contact then our jaws dropped. "Damn, Kay… You look beautiful." I didn't even have time to let my pride and jealousy take over; the words spilled out of my mouth immediately, and they were true. Gil and Toni had done a great job, guiding her toward this rose colored dress… It made her look like an adult. A very short adult.
She coughed, glancing away and brushing her recently curled hair back behind her ear. "Thanks…" She glanced back at me. "You do, too. Those colors look brilliant on you. Although," she advanced toward me, grabbing hold of the fabric that covered my chest then twisting and tugging it a bit, "you were a little crooked. There."
I twirled my finger in the air, motioning for her to spin around. "Lemme see the back…" Smiling now, Caliegh turned, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I don't even give a shit about fashion, yet the design of her dress in the back was stunning. The way it crisscrossed. "Is that tight enough?" I asked.
Caliegh shook her head, her lovely curls bobbing with the movement. "Not really… I couldn't get it by myself."
"Well then allow me." I undid the messy bow she had made, praying I wouldn't make the whole thing worse- we were actually getting along for once. I bit my lip as I redid the bow, jokingly pulling it unnecessarily tightly at first but then tying it just where it needed to be when it came to tightness. "Hopefully that won't look like total shit." Caliegh shrugged and turned around, her hands absently on her hips.
"I'm sure it looks fine… Now come on, let me straighten your hair." I grinned softly as my twin dragged me off to the bathroom and sat me down on a stool, the straightener already plugged in and heated up (we had agreed that she should straighten my hair earlier that day). I admit my hair looked rather nice straightened, but it rarely got that way because I didn't know how to do it myself. That, and I was too lazy to learn how. I think Caliegh and I were both pretty proud of the results, even though we both knew it wouldn't stay that way for too long thanks to the stubborn nature of my waves and curls.
Thanking my sister, I added a couple little touches to my makeup (just some mascara, lip gloss, and powder) before sliding into my heels and heading toward the door. I turned over my shoulder as I grasped the door handle, checking to see if Caliegh was following, to see her adjusting her own heels with an incredulous look on her face. "That's all you're doing to your hair?"
I scrunched my eyebrows and pursed my lips a bit. "I guess I should do something…"
"Here, allow me." Next thing I knew, Caliegh had gathered some of my hair- the group of strands that framed my face- and clipped them to the back of my head. I paused for a moment, my breath catching in my throat: this was exactly what I had done with my hair for my eighth grade formal, including straightening it. Yet, Caliegh hadn't been around for that. She had been in Texas with our devil mother and little half-siblings that have never even shook my hand, possibly attending a dance of her own. Funny that she knew exactly what style I thought was good for me to wear my hair in to a formal dance…. We really do share that twin connection, after all.
I smiled. "Perf." Caliegh narrowed her eyes; she's always hated it when I said "perf," something I had picked up off the internet, as opposed to "perfect." My grin only widened. "Thanks, Sis. Now let's get going." I offered my arm out to her, like a prince leading his lady off to the ball. Hell, neither of us had dates, and we were twins. I'd say we're entitled to have silly little jokingly lesbian-like moments such as this. "Shall we depart?"
She loosened up, and a hesitant smile twitched onto her face then melted naturally into her features. She linked her elbow with mine, tilting her head a bit to smile up at me. Just like old times… "We shall." And so we headed down to the auditorium, arm-in-arm, smiling and chatting and giggling.
The Bad Touch Trio was waiting for us by the entrance. They all gaped at us upon our arrival, grins lighting up their handsome faces. A chorus of "Mein gott," "Mon dieu," and "Mis dios" sounded from them, only making my and Caliegh's grins widen.
"Gabby! You look so lindo!" Antonio gasped, grabbing my shoulders and looking me up and down. Gilbert's eyes also glazed me over, his finger and thumb cupping his chin. He nodded his approval.
"Ja, sehr heiß," he agreed.
I laughed at their use of their native tongues. "I'll assume that's a compliment, so, thanks." Gilbert grinned, gave a sharp nod, and turned on his heel to look over my sister. He and Antonio gushed over her- something about how they knew they made a good decision with her dress. The three of them slipped into a conversation, leaving me alone with Francis.
Call me crazy, but the atmosphere seemed to get… warmer when I felt Francis's eyes observing me. Not a quick look-over to check me out, like Antonio and Gilbert had done; he was gazing with a gently curious expression, intent on taking in every detail. His excited grin had dwindled down to soft smile. "Tu es…. très belle," he murmured. Well, not really murmured: that was impossible to do over the music. I guess his calm tone made it seem like a murmur.
Feeling myself blush, I shrugged. "I guess you could say I clean up good." Francis laughed.
"Absolutely. Twirl for moi, I want to see you from all angles." I was reminded of the irremovable grin on my face as I held my arms out like an airplane, rotating in a slow 360. "Ah, oui, very nice… Not extravagant, but beautiful all the same. It suits you well." I think the blush returned to my cheeks. Was Francis intending to say that I wasn't extravagant, yet I was beautiful all the same? "The colors are perfect, aussi. I know how much you love purple," he fingered the silky fabric of the sash tied around my waist, "et this shade of blue is stunning on you. It brings out your eyes…."
My heart fluttered a bit uncontrollably for a moment as Francis pinched some of my hair between his finger and thumb, sliding down to the ends that had already begun to flip back up. "You look really good, yourself." At first, I had just said so because he had complimented me, but when I actually looked him over, I realized my words were true. He wore a long sleeved button-down shirt, a shade of sky blue even paler than my dress in color. The cuffs were white and buttoned over. He wore black dress pants, with a belt and shoes to match. His hair was pulled back in ponytail with a ribbon the same exact color as his shirt, the wavy strands that didn't reach the ribbon symmetrically framing his face.
I was about to make the mistake of pointing out that our outfits made Francis and I look like one of those coordinating couples when I felt a hand grab my arm my spin me around. "Dude, you lookawesome!Like a girl!"
"Well I'd hope I look like my gender, Al." Alfred's style was much different from Francis's: a white dress shirt with the top three or four buttons undone, a completely unbuttoned black tuxedo jacket, and black jeans (probably the only pair of pants he owned that weren't ripped). His hair was slicked with gel, and I could smell it from where I stood.
"What're you doing standing over here? Let's go party!" Al exclaimed, bouncing eagerly. I nodded my agreement.
"C'mon, guys, let's go down to the lower level," I offered, loud enough for the others to hear as well. Caliegh's smile faltered a bit.
"…I'll pass."
Should've seen that coming.
"What?! You can't come to a dance and not dance!" Gilbert insisted, his eyes wide and hands gripping Caliegh by the shoulders. She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, but I can."
Gilbert groaned, and Antonio pouted; shrugging, I headed toward the dance floor. If my sister wanted to have a shitty time, so be it. I, for one, was determined to have a great time. I LOVED dances. I mean, I have zero grace, so I'm completely unable to dance… But the beauty of school dances was, neither could half the attendees. I wasn't there to show off my (lack of) dancing skills: I was there to jump around, sway to the beat of songs I didn't even know, scream along to the songs I did know, and dance like a hooker with my friends.
…..Oh. Wait. Except for Gabrielle, all my friends here, now, were guys. They couldn't exactly swing their hips or let their top fall down too low. Back in eighth grade, my friends and I did stuff like that to feel like bad girls for once… Trying to pull that around a bunch of hot guy friends would be the embarrassment of a lifetime.
…or so I thought.
The place was decorated really nicely. The lights got dimmer the farther into the room you got, and spotlights beamed red and pink hearts on the ceiling while several of those electric disco balls spun rainbow lights everywhere. Streamers and hearts and flowers hung from everywhere, and every seat off to the side had a little piece of chocolate on it. As promised, Caliegh did not join us on the dance floor. Instead, she found her way to one of the unoccupied tables and sat there, tapping her foot occasionally and then chatting with Matthew when he sat beside her.
Don't get me wrong, I didn't start out as a party animal either. I just kinda bobbed along to the first two songs, both of which were some rap music that was currently popular, but didn't appeal to my tastes. However, when a song I recognized started to play, I mouthed the words (trying to sing along over the music would surely rupture my vocal chords) and started to get more into my dancing, since I knew the beat by heart. Francis picked up on this gradual change and grinned, shuffling closer to me. He had been dancing casually to everything so far, but my enthusiasm seemed to rub off on him. When he grabbed my hands, the chain of humbleness that had tethered me down to prevent humiliation snapped, and off I went. Soon enough Francis and I were doing a series of dips and twirls, me occasionally ending up in Gilbert or Antonio's arms and doing the same thing.
It only got better from there. The song selections were improving, so I started making up silly little dance moves to accompany the lyrics I recognized, and the Bad Touch Trio would sometimes catch on and do them with me. When the first unfamiliar song came on, I literally danced my way off to the sidelines to take off my heels. Like hell was I gonna dance with blisters on my feet. I trotted up the stairs toward the tables, and rested the shoes on the empty chair to Caliegh's left. "I'm gonna leave these here with you, mkay?" She may or may not have responded. Either way, I invited her to come join us on the dance floor, and when she immediately declined, I simply skipped back to my buddies.
In my haste to return to my current three favorite guys in the world, I, inevitably, bumped into someone. "Sorry about that!" I called up to the tall figure, praying it wasn't going to be some jock that would tell me off for not watching where I was going. Nonetheless, when he turned around to see what disrespectful brat had run into him, I decided I would have preferred the jock.
It was Mathias.
"Whoa, hey, Gab! Long time no talk!"
Yeah, whose fault is that.
I just kind of stood there awkwardly, at a loss for words. What do you say to your gay ex-boyfriend that hasn't talked to you for months? Lucky for me, Mathias cracked the silence before it turned awkward. I guess I had forgotten about that big mouth of his. "So where ya headed?"
"Over to Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio," I answered plainly, rather proud that my voice wasn't shaky. Mathias nodded twice.
There was a slight pause. "You mind if I come with? I can't find Lukas…"
Every single part of me screamed "no." He broke my heart, refused to rebuild our friendship… Who did he think he was?! …..a guy that wanted to have fun during his Valentine's Day formal dance, that's who. I silently took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "Sure, come party with us!"
As we made our way back to the guys, springs in our steps, the smile turned more and more genuine.
Gilbert, for one, was ecstatic to see the company I had brought, and the two of them immediately broke into some hardcore dance that only guys with self esteem as high as theirs could pull off. Alfred swaggered his way over to join them; I guess guys that drink together, dance together. …Man, I kind of missed Mathias and his wildness…. He looked really nice, in his all-black suit that got drowned out by the bright red color of his dress shirt.
Thankfully, a change of music snapped me out of it before I could start fantasizing about my ex. My gay, spoken for ex. A grin spread across my face as I recognized the catchy tune: The Cat Daddy. I don't remember going to any dances since seventh grade that didn't play this song, and I'm not complaining. I can't Jerk, and I don't know how to Dougie… But man can I Cat Daddy. I animatedly bobbed along to the intro, and when the lyrics started, I began the actual ridiculous dance. Mathias, Alfred, and Gilbert immediately joined me, then Antonio, the five of us dancing in perfect unison. I caught sight of Gabrielle, dancing with some of her other friends; I waved her over, and she soon joined us with a grin.
Meanwhile, Francis stood there looking as if he was watching a flock of geese perform a séance. I noticed him gaze around the room, and his expression only grew more confused. "Does everyone know this dance?" he inquired.
"Everyone but you, 'parently," Alfred snapped back. He paused for a moment to make an L out of his fingers on his forehead while sticking out his tongue, then immediately fell back into sync with the rest of us. I, however, shot a glare at him and stopped dancing altogether. I broke away from the circle to stand closer to Francis.
"Ignore him, he's a 5 year old in a teenage body. This song's out of style now, anyway… Here, it's really simple. See, you're supposed to be like, in a wheelchair… You buckle yourself in, then turn the wheels." I gave him a motion-by-motion demonstration: bringing both hands from one hip to the other, then spinning invisible wheels at my sides while thrusting my body forward.
"Ah, well that's simple…" A smirk crept onto Francis's face. "You make it look so sexual."
My face flushed. I still remember a seventh grade dance where some girl I didn't even know made fun of me for getting way into the dance….. Before I could invent a comeback, though, Francis had joined the circle and pulled me back in, and now we were a Cat Daddying group of seven. To my relief, I wasn't the only one getting rather sexual with the dance: Gilbert, too, was getting perhaps too into it. Soon enough, Francis was doing the same…. Right up against me. I gasped the first time he did it, feeling his body that close to mine in such a… provocative matter… And before I knew it, the song had transitioned into one of those dirty, obnoxiously catchy rap songs, and I was returning the movement. That's right: I ended up grinding with Francis Bonnefoy. He eventually twirled me into Antonio, and we also danced dangerously close, then the same happened with Gilbert, then Alfred, and then, as much as I shudder at the thought now, Mathias.
If people don't start calling me a whore after witnessing that, then I guess my reputation is safe forever.
Gabrielle had been whisked away by her other friends halfway through the dirty song, leaving me surrounded by guys once again. I twirled out of Mathias's arms at the start of the next track, our hands still linked. We were grinning at each other, as if we had actually succeeded in moving onto "just friends." …Was that was this was? A proposal of friendship…? Suddenly, Mathias craned his neck to see the upper level. "Ooh, there's Lukas! Gotta go." He pulled me into a one-armed hug, and said, "Text me sometime, man. You could use a gay buddy." Before I could comment, he was off, dashing over to assault his boyfriend with a surprise hug. I felt a weight I hadn't even known had been pulling me down lift from my shoulders.
"And now, ladies and gents, we're gonna slow it doooooooown," announced the DJ. Oh, splendid… Well, I suppose I could go for a drink, sit down with my sister… Actually, both ideas sounded really appealing. However, I knew the latter was out of the question when Gilbert perked up, making a beeline for the table where Caliegh sat. And I mean sat in the past tense, because she was gone. Only my shoes remained at the table. When I walked up to grab a water bottle (making sure it was unopened; God knows what people slip into drinks at gatherings like this), I noticed Gil slinking out of the auditorium. I didn't see the poor guy for a while after that.
After downing at least three quarters of my water, I started singing along to the song under my breath. A Thousand Years by Christina Perri… I'd always loved the song, it was just so beautiful. I was too preoccupied swaying gently in place, whispering the lyrics that I knew, to notice Al approaching me. So, I jumped out of my skin when he tapped my arm. "Hey bro… You wanna dance?"
It felt as if a fist had reached up from the pit of my stomach, clenched my heart, and dragged it down at least a few inches. Didn't he realize that this was a slow song? About eternal love? That the only people currently dancing were couples? I took a deep, shaky breath. "Alfred… We're not dating anymore," I reminded him as gently as possible while still being heard. A sad sort of smile that looked like it was meant to be bright appeared on Alfred's face.
"Well yeah, I know, but I was thinking we could just dance as friends."
How the hell do you slow dance as friends?! Wasn't everyone that was dancing-? …oh. A quick glance around showed that although most people swaying to the song together were in fact in a relationship, I noticed some others closer to the sidelines. Francis and Antonio, for example, were making a big show of doing some slowed down version of the tango. And then, when the Belgian girl I'd seen in the halls and at lunch approached Antonio and asked to dance for real, Francis flagged down dear ol' Mattie and wrapped his arms around his waist. Wow, those two actually would make a cute couple…!
Okay, gotta focus on the task at hand. I gave a slight nod to my head, walking back toward the dance floor, but Alfred grabbed my wrist before I could advance any farther. "I was thinking we could just do it here." Well, alright then. I shrugged, sliding back to Al and slowly linking my hands behind his neck. In turn, his hands wound around my waist, and we began to sway back and forth, slowly revolving in a tiny circle.
It was silent between us, though that in itself wasn't so bad. We both had tiny smiles on our faces, and would break into occasional brief giggling fits. Sometimes, I'd quietly sing or hum along to the song…. But mostly, I was looking into Alfred's face, since we were on the brightest level. His forehead revealed by his slicked back hair; his glasses so far down on his nose that his baby blue eyes were clearly visible; his lips, forming that ever-present grin of his… …those lips that I had felt against mine so many times… That had sang along to the music he played on his guitar… That had cursed at me when I beat him on Xbox… That had blabbed on and on with stuff only Alfred F. Jones truly understood… That had teased their way down my neck on a couple daring occasions…..
No. No, no, no. I couldn't do this, I couldn't allow those memories to resurface… Not now, not ever… Yet, how could I not? Our hands were touching some part of one another, our bodies were so close together… Hell, if I leaned up a little bit, I could easily kiss him. This was wrong. We were just friends, BEST friends, not lovers anymore… I unlinked my hands from behind his neck and stumbled backward, ripping his own hands apart. "I can't… Al, I'm sorry, I can't do this. It's… too soon," I breathed in distress. A youthful sort of pouty sadness appeared on Alfred's face.
"Aw, man… I getcha. Sorry…" I shook my head, murmuring something that might have been "It's okay," and dashed off to the seat where my heels rested. I set them on the ground and buried my face in my hands. Damn it, why did I have to be so emotional all the time?! I was supposed to be having a great time, letting loose and letting all my worries go… But since I couldn't even suck up my stupid bewildered feelings about my recent breakup, here I was sitting alone with tears in my eyes. Where was my sister when I needed her…? I don't know why, seeing how cold she usually is to me, but I just wanted her to be there, calm me down….
"Are you alright there, love?"
Well there's a voice I did not expect to here… I shot my head up only to see Arthur Kirkland standing beside me, looking rather concerned. I sat up straight and blinked hard. "Wha? Yeah, yeah, I'm… fine…" I managed a smile. "It's cool, I'm fine."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You don't look it…" He extended an arm and used his thumb to wipe away a tear that had escaped onto my cheek. Then, he pulled up a chair and sat next to me. "Mind telling me what's bothering you?"
I gave a dismissive shake to my head. "Nothing, really…."
"Let me guess, that idiot buffoon Alfred asked you to dance even though you just broke up, you felt uncomfortable because it was too soon, and you left him in the middle of the dance?"
For a moment, I just sat there blinking and gawking. "Exactly….. How did you-?"
"I grew up reading Sherlock Holmes," Arthur answered with a smile. I couldn't help but grin a little in return. He lightly brought a fist against my arm. "See, there's a smile…" The slow song finally ended, and a much peppier one came on. One that I knew. "How about you and I head down to the dance floor? Jump around a little bit… Perhaps my horrid dancing will clear your head."
I let out a sincere laugh. "You just want an excuse to rock out to One Direction, don't you."
"Ah, you can read me like a book."
The rest of the night certainly got better. Arthur's dancing truly was atrocious; it was kind of adorable. I honestly didn't expect him to show up to the dance at all…. It didn't seem like his type of thing. However, when I noticed Vasillica hanging off to the side, bobbing his head and tapping his foot to the music, I deducted that he had been talked into it. Regardless, I was sure glad he came, because he revived my good mood.
In fact, I felt alive enough that I grabbed my sister as she snuck back to the table, and forced her to come dance with me and the Bad Touch Trio (Gilly had returned, and like me, his mysteriously low spirits gradually rose up again). To my surprise yet pleasure, Caliegh actually obliged, and danced with us to the rest of the songs that weren't slow dances. Her dancing actually was really good, the talented little bitch… Her only downfall was that she was a bit shy. Anyway, when the slow songs did play, Caliegh and I grabbed a snack and drink then sat back down at our table, chatting away like best friends do and sisters should. It was kind of great.
Eventually, Alfred snuck back into our group of five, this time dragging Mattie with him. It was rather entertaining, trying to get the poor guy to loosen up; all of us contributed. He danced like an awkward third grader that still had imaginary friends, but hey, he danced. Also: the awkward aura surrounding Al and I had evaporated soon enough; we even collaborated to get Arthur to Gangnam Style with us.
By the end of the night, I was exhausted, hyped as all get out, my ears were ringing, and I felt dirtier than ever (the guys and I had gotten dangerously close to each other while we danced to more than just that one song). To be honest… In the back of my mind, I was disgusted with myself, too. What type of girl was I, practically getting intimate with all those guys?! At middle school and early high school dances, I had always fantasized about being in that situation, but now that it actually happened, I was mildly sickened. What a slut…
…But I won't let that get to me. It had been a fantastic night, I had an amazing time, and my outfit made me feel pretty for once… Every girl's gotta be entitled to whore around for at least a few moments, right?