61.
chapter sixty-one:
mademoiselle and her
monsieur!
<3

"Ouch! Ouch! Quit it—ow!"

Unfortunately, the more I yelped, the harder she pulled at my hair. "They have—ah—life too!"

"Your hair is totally insufferable, just like you!" Misty exclaimed, and I winced at her in the mirror. She gave one more violent tug, and I yelped. "No rubber bands are helping to tie it back."

"I never asked you to do this!" I exclaimed, rubbing the back of my head sorely. "I only wanted a convincing enough disguise, and any other hairstyle would have been just fine!"

Before Misty could retort, the doorbell rang. "Oh, that must be Gary and May. I'll get it!" She ran out of the room, and I sighed at myself. Wearing formals had been a far-fetched idea for me. I stood up and examined the suit I was in with keen distaste.

In minutes, the two of them were shifting from one foot to the other, looking nervous. I was equally drunk on nerves, but I had to be the one to end this cold war and ask for help. "Um," I cleared my throat. "I guess I should be apologetic… er, I mean—"

Before I could complete my sentence, I was almost thrown back onto the bed by May tackling me into a hug. "I should be saying that." She hiccupped. I awkwardly shifted my hands to pat her back. When she withdrew, she had a teary smile on her face. "Please forgive us?"

I nodded and realized my vision had gone blurry too. I blinked rapidly and repeated the action. "Yeah."

The atmosphere lightened significantly after Gary shook my hand in apology. Misty clapped her hands to get our attention. "I'm glad things worked out, but May and I gotta get ready too! We can't just loiter around here!"

Gary rummaged through a small bag and took out a vial of something. "This is the hair formula I use. I brought a new one. Here."

I groaned as I was led to the dressing mirror again for another round of hair styling.

Readjusting my mask to fit right above my nose, I walked upstairs. The noise of the party happening above bounced off the school's walls as I approached the first floor, my eyes wide, searching for any sign of her.

The end-of-year ball was taking place in the ballroom on the fourth floor. It was loud enough to be heard even on the first floor.

I let out a tense breath at the sight of her golden hair before examining her. The soft fabric of her blush pink dress clung to her, accentuating her figure well. Darn, stop thinking! It's time for action.

I watched from the darkness of the stairs as she waved goodbye to someone, presumably Calem, and started walking straight. Taking a deep breath, I charged up the stairs and deliberately crashed into her.

She hit the marble floor with a thud, and I mentally sent her an apology. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, looking up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes filled with wonder.

I cleared my throat. "Er, the fault's mine. Let me help you up, Mademoiselle." I offered her a hand, but she didn’t immediately accept it. She looked back and forth between my outstretched hand and my face, her mouth in the shape of an "o," and darn, did she look cute.

She finally accepted my hand, and I pulled her back to her feet with an elegant movement. "May I ask where you’re off to?" I asked, helping her dust her dress and straighten the hem of it.

"Oh, I'm waiting for my date."

"Darn," I cursed under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck. Did someone beat me to it?

"What about you, Monsieur?" she asked fervently, and I noted a tone of urgency in her voice. So, I started on Plan B, as per May—cool off.

I resisted the urge to run a hand through my hair. "I just showed up to get a few drinks off the table. I'm hungry, y'know? Colliding into pretty girls isn’t something that happens every day." She blushed at my compliment, and my heart did a little victory dance.

"Aren't you running pretty late, though?"

I thought for a while. I could either directly ask her out, assuming her reason for waiting was a lie, or chicken out and get the drinks. But what if she disappeared meanwhile? "No, I suppose," I paused and looked at her. "They’ll be there all night, right?" She shrugged. "Er, do you mind waiting? I could get us some punch if you like," I tried, rubbing the back of my thumb.

"I am technically waiting for my date anyway," she replied. Taking it as a yes, I broke into a run.

The double doors of the ballroom looked intimidating enough for a partygoer without a date. Brushing off the nervousness, I blindly made a beeline to the punch table and filled a cup with a red liquid, assuming it to be strawberry—her favorite flavor—punch. I filled myself one from the blueberry punch jar and left the place in a hurry.

On my way back, I spotted Gary and Misty in the midst of what looked like a wild mating dance of lions—

I did not see what I just saw!

I smiled slyly in pride as I sprinted downstairs, carefully guarding the punch. I noticed her talking to someone on the phone as I slowly descended. A few feet closer, and I heard the exasperation in her voice.

"He isn’t my boy!"

There was a faint reply before she nodded and, comically, hit herself. I chose that moment to intervene, lest I laugh at her silliness.

"Are you okay, Mademoiselle?"

"Shauna, I'm—er—at a restaurant! Do you mind if I call you back later?" she spoke hurriedly. "And you the prom! Bye!"

The call ended promptly, and she turned around on her heel to face me.

"You were nodding on the phone? Is anything wrong with your head?" I asked in disbelief, and a frown graced her lips. I wonder why.

"Anyways, here's your punch. Strawberry blast, with no broccoli, no worries." I offered the drink, then broke into a sweat when I realized what I had said. Luckily, she didn’t seem to pay me any attention as she took a sip.

The girl spoke suddenly, her nose crinkling right beneath her mask. "May I ask your name?"

I choked on my drink and gasped for breath. My mind raced with possible replies, excuses, lies even, and finally came up with one. "I thought this was supposed to be a masquerade?"

"Right."

"Left," I teased, smirking when she flushed. She looked so adorable in baby pink!

"Are you right in your head?"

"I am left with no date, so thanks." I grinned, watching her pout. I was about to take another sip when the girl held her head and stumbled forward. Her name escaped my lips inevitably as she collided into me, the glasses crashing to the floor and breaking into a million pieces. "Serena? Serena!"