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Bella and Cora flank either side of me, my arms looped with theirs to keep my balance in the painfully high stilettos. The girls walk like they’re on a catwalk, Bella doesn’t show that she’s already half pissed. I can’t help but feel a little jealous during my Cinderella moment at how easy they both make this look. I have about as much grace and decorum as bambi on ice and boy did I feel it next to these two.
When I’d looked at myself in the mirror after the make-over session I hardly recognised myself. I felt beautiful, but extremely self conscious. The only time I had worn anything like this was at my teenage prom, I was all gangly limbs and no tits, the entire thing was one big awkward-fest.
Cora chose to wear her hair down and straight, the golden strands complimenting the baby powder blue silk gown that hugs her figure perfectly. A sexy yet sophisticated look, Bella had said. Bella has gone with a deep red ball gown that screamed “Queen of the Vampires.” The corset style top cinched her tiny waist within an inch of her life. I still don’t understand how she’s breathing. She’s swapped her long sleek black hair for a glamorous short, icy blonde pixie style cut for the occasion. It accentuates her high cheek bones phenomenally.
I didn’t have a choice in how I looked tonight, every styling decision had to be Bella and Cora approved, so I was told. I'd been transfixed by Michelle, the hairdresser, as she curled, twisted and pinned my dark hair up into a fancy up-do. My dress is a midnight blue number, the bodice had off the shoulder sleeves which gave me serious fairy-tale princess vibes. That part wasn’t so bad but the meringue style skirt was a little over the top for me.
Butterflies start up in my stomach as we near the tall wooden doors, I try my hardest to recite the very very quick formal dance the girls had tried to show me. I pray that I don’t baulk when the music starts. As the doors open, I stare around in awe at the beautiful room. At the top, just below the stained glass windows, sits a long table that I guess is for the faculty. In the middle, there are round tables each adorned with a tall bouquet of flowers in the various colours of the different wings.
I grip the girl's arms a little tighter as I take a deep breath. They lead me over to the table with the Emerald Green roses. God, everything here is so extra! I cannot even imagine how long it took someone to get these tablecloths so crisp, do they reuse them each time or just buy new ones?
“Stop gawking like a fish and sit the fuck down,” Bella whispers to me in a sing-song, her smile not faultering.
Shit. I’ve just been standing here staring at the fucking linen. I try to copy the other two as they slide gracefully into their chairs, but my chair makes an awful scraping noise as I pull it out. I wrinkle my nose and mutter “Sorry!” to everyone around me.
Once I’ve sat down, Cora, who’s sitting across from me, gestures discreetly for me to remove the napkin shaped like a... peacock? Off of my plate. I try to be as delicate as I can as I fumble with it, unfolding it gently as if it’s made of glass. A low cough from beside me grabs my attention.
“You don’t unfold it, just give it a shake. Watch me.” The Greek God-like man with the deep voice sitting next to me says, as shakes his napkin out in one fluid movement and places it down on his lap. I give him a sheepish grin as I try to do the same but to my absolute horror the damn peacock stays perfectly in place. Has someone glued this together? The man grabs my wrist gently and brings my arm over towards him and flicks out. The napkin of course unfolds and I blush from the embarrassment. Sure I can remember every detail of the battle of Hastings, but can’t shake out a napkin? Jesus, this is going to be a long night.
“I was warming it up for you.” I say, trying to brush off the hideous encounter. His dark brown eyes finally look away from me as he smiles.
“What an interesting accent, are you Irish or Cornish? I never can quite tell,” he asks.
The blood drained from my face, I had forgotten to keep the accent in check again.
“Neither, I’m from Birmingham,” I mutter, trying to sound a little posher than I am. What a disaster. I nervously glance up at Cora for help but she’s deep in conversation with a large Rugby player looking guy next to her and I’ll be damned if I take another condescending insult from Bella. As if sensing my plea for help, he thankfully breaks the awkward silence.
“I’m Sebastian Goddworthy,” Sebastian takes my hand in his and plants a small kiss on the back of it. What the fuck do I do now?
“Sebby, this is Louisa,” Bella introduces from next to me, her hand gently resting on my knee. “She’s Cora’s roommate this year.”
I wince as Bella’s sharp talons dig into my leg fiercely, telling me all I need to know about how this interaction is going...
“My my, Louisa, I barely recognised you after this morning. You’re in good hands with these two, you’ll land a rich husband in no time.” He looks me up and down like I’m a piece of meat. My skin crawls.
“So far I’ve found the men here dull as dishwater. I’d find more thrilling conversation with a book of nursery rhymes. I assume they have one here to keep you entertained?” I grab the glass of red wine that I’d spotted out of the corner of my eye, in the dainty lady-like way I saw Cora handle her champagne flute earlier, and take a long healthy sip.
Bella bursts into a well rehearsed laughter, squeezing my leg tighter. I throw Sebastian a sweet smile and he raises an eyebrow in approval.
“You’ll do well here with that wicked tongue of yours. I do enjoy a challenge.” His eyes smoulder and I gulp as I realise I may be in way over my head here.
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AFTER DINNER, THE BALLROOM is transformed when we walk back in, complete with a full orchestra already playing a classical version of a pop song I vaguely recognise. Everyone takes their places immediately in the middle of the room, boys on one side, girls on the other.
I glance up to see that Sebastian is directly in front of me, his face plastered with a smug smile. Did he put himself there on purpose? There’s no time to question the motivations of the stranger as the lines suddenly move in unison, my feet begging me for a reprieve against the assault of the shoes. I surprise myself as I remember the steps, although I know I’m nowhere near on par with everyone else- at least I know them. I focus on repeating the pattern in my head to take my mind off of Sebastian’s hand on the small of my back.
“Absolutely fascinating,” he mutters.
“What is?” I ask as he twirls me effortlessly.
“I can almost hear the wheels turning in your head. Very impressive of you to remember all the steps.” He leans a little closer, invading my space a little too much.
“You’re invading my dance space, I’m trying very hard here not to make a complete tit out of myself.” It comes out a little harsher than I intend but he doesn’t seem to take offence, his eyes are practically gleaming at my venomous tone.
He says nothing else and flings me into the arms of another. I have a moment where I’m relieved to be rid of him, but it’s only fleeting as I’m now face to face with a familiar silver eyed man.
I look anywhere but at him, unable to bear the hatred exuding from him as the dance continues. His hands barely touch me, as if I’m contaminated.
“The little mouse has come out to play with the snakes I see.”
Why does he despise me so much? I keep quiet, focusing on getting this dance out of the way, so I can run upstairs and probably cry. I don’t need to look up at him to know he’s not taking his eyes from me, and it’s not in a romantic way either. It’s like he’s trying to burn a hole through my brain.
He leans in close, a little too close, his breath sending a shiver up my spine.
“You’re going to be eaten alive here, Garrick.” I finally gathered some courage and looked at him. His face up close, is to die for. It’s as if the man in front of me had been carved straight from marble. Perfection, if I dare say. All thoughts of his rudeness and arrogance have emptied from my brain, I forget that I’d even taken offence to him calling me by my last name; as if I were the subordinate. Now I’m all too aware of the proximity of our body’s, the heat radiating from him is an excruciating temptation. If it were anyone else, this might even be the most romantic set up in the world...
“What makes you so sure of that, exactly?” I ask, giving my head a wobble and trying my best to impersonate Bella’s haughtiness. He gives me a dazzling side smirk that reveals a dimple in his cheek. He sees right through me, I know it.
“Uninvited rodents tend to create problems. Just because the board wishes to welcome someone like you doesn’t mean that I will extend such hospitality.” His gaze hardens as he fixes it to the back wall, giving me a nice view of his chiselled jaw line. If he wasn’t being such a prick right now I’d be swooning.
“I was invited to be here.” I spit back at him. “You would get shanked the moment you set foot in Birmingham, do you know that? I may be out of my own territory here Mr. Grenville but do not insult me when you don't know me. Underestimate me or threaten me again and I’ll show you just how many problems I can create for you, should you get in the way of what I want.” I cock an eyebrow at him, daring him to prove me wrong. The space between us now houses a sizzling tension. A tiny flicker of something in his expression catches me off guard, too quick for me to overanalyze.
“What is it that you want?” The question catches me off guard just as the music ends and he walks away without another word. I watch him disappear into the crowd, my head filled with a thousand questions.