obigem

[obigem]

"You want me to dance with you? In public? Let me guess, you called the paparazzi on yourself again."

"Excuse me! Far be it from me to just want to share a dance with my beloved son. It would just be nice," she hesitated, "for someone to actually want to dance with me tonight."

If Matthew knew one thing about his mother it was that she had an immense level of pride about herself, but also an immensely tender heart. He didn't have to look farther than his own father entertaining another woman for a dance for him to understand that her armor was certainly as bruised as his.

"If I were to say yes to this idea of this dance—"

"Yes?"

"Then I would need your word there will be no photographic evidence, no secret blind items showing up in the press, nothing to indicate it happened at all."

"Sweetheart, what do you take me for?"

"Promise."

"You have my word."

"Fine."

"Fine? So does that mean—"

"I won't keep reassuring you, so if you didn't hear me the first time then maybe I'll change my mind."

"Don't be such a sourpuss! Come along, dear, lead Mommy to the dance floor." Diana stifled back a giggle.

So that's where they went.

Somehow out on the dance floor, Matthew managed to feel lighter, more carefree. Perhaps a part of him hoped tonight might end with someone he loved in his arms, he just didn't expect for that someone to be his mother, and for him to not resent that fact.

"Oh, Matthew, look at you," Diana beamed, "who would've ever thought that my little boy would grow into such a fine gentleman."

"Glad to know you had such little faith in me."

"You know that isn't true. I out of anyone always believed you could get here. She'll see it one day too."

"Mother, don't."

"I know. You don't want to talk about it. But if I could just say one thing—"

"As if I could stop you."

"That girl sees you, maybe not yet the way you'd liked her to, but she's not far off. Give her time. I'm sure it'll happen."

"You're right," Matthew grew soft. "I don't want to talk about it."

As it stood, he wasn't in a place to accept his mother's words, but he coud accept her embrace. He'd never admit it, but he needed that right now. So till the night was over, he danced with her, till it hurt just a bit less.

[obigem]

"Matthew?" Diana approached him.

Matthew turned his chin away from her in a silent move to get her to leave him be.

"If you keep at that, it'll only affirm your guilt in my eyes. Kanoodling with that Alto girl, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?! And don't try to tell me it's not what it looks like, my eyes work quite fine!"

"Fine, I won't." Matthew retorted flatly.

"You do not get off the hook that easily! Why are you kissing that Alto girl instead of seeing to Cordelia's safe travels home? I believe my orders were clear."

"She didn't need my help with that."

"Says who?"

"Says her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!"

"Since when does Cordelia have a boyfriend?"

"Oh, I dunno maybe one or two—"

"Months?"

"Try years, Mother."

"Years?! She's been dating the same boy for that long? Why wasn't I informed?"

"You do realize you're not 𝘩𝘦𝘳 mother, right?"

"Sure, but you'd think he'd have come up once in two years."

"A boyfriend, for two years?" Internally, Diana could feel her delicately crafted tower of plans beginning to topple. She was no fan of that, but what's more, in front of her, she could see things were worse for her son.

"Oh darling, don't take it to heart. What's a high school boyfriend anyway?"

"Why, I had what? Three, four of them when I was her age? And not a single one meant a thing to me. I'm sure eventually, once she realizes the better option right in front of her—"

"Can you just not? Did I say I needed consoling?"

"I can see you're upset."

"Maybe it's because you keep projecting."

"I am not a project for you to fiddle with. I never asked to go to cotillion with her, but you saw fit to meddle, and make me think—ugh, just forget it!"

"Are you angry with me, love?"

"Do you see me punching a wall?"

"Not right this second."

"Then consider this me self-regulating."

"Dr. Cedars would be very proud."

"Dr. Cedars can eat a—"

"Language, dear."

"…uncomfortably large meal." Matthew's words came out gnashed and strained.

"In any case, I won't push you too hard. I'm sorry, I thought—well, that doesn't matter. Why don't I have Arnov bring the car around?"

"We can take the long way, see the sights, talk about our feelings—"

"And then we can paint each other's nails and braid each other's hair." Matthew snorted.

"Dearest, I am still your very black mother. I'd reword that."

Matthew sighed, "Do you really think I want to talk about this?"

"I'm not well-adjusted enough to let you in on how I'm really feeling about 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. All I do know is no, I do not want to talk about it. I do not want to think about it. I'd just as well forget about it. But I can't. But if I stay here, I can at least give myself time to bury it in mind."

"So, can you grant me that?"

"I can do you one better. Your mother may have some things of her own she's had to deal with tonight, that she'd also rather not think about, so instead let's choose love."

"Love?"

"Yes, I'd love nothing more than to dance with my son. Will you grant 𝘮𝘦 that?"

[obigem]

As Otillie leaned in, Matthew knew he had the latitude to pull away as he had more than once before. When he hadn't, it had only encouraged her, something he'd hoped to avoid in consideration of her feelings. But tonight he had his own feelings to worry about.

And maybe for once, he'd like not to think about or feel them at all.

As her lips grazed his cheek, he wondered if he could let this be enough in the way at boarding school he would often let society girls use his body for their fancies and he their attention as his escape.

To them he was a wild luxury that would pay handsomely and place them respectably in society on the chance of incidence. But to him they were a reminder that he could still feel past his heat, his frustration, his longing.

But there was never any mistaking that any of that was ever enough.

That unfed hunger that yearned to be sated.

Otillie drew back slightly, her eyes swimming, "There," she said, "now everyone tonight has either kissed or been kissed."

"You cannot enjoy torturing yourself like this, Otillie."

"Who says it's torture?" A coy smile played on her lips.

"Yearning for something you can never have, I don't see how you could describe that as anything but torture. Unless you enjoy being a masochist."

"If I'm a masochist, then I guess that makes two of us." Her gaze softened, "But honestly, Matthew, I don't intend on ever giving up on you."

"You may have feelings for someone else, but I have feelings for you. And I promise if you were to look at me the way that you look at her, I'd never give you a reason for your heart to ache the way it does now."

She turned from him. "Goodnight, Matthew. Till we meet again."

As Matthew watched Otillie go, it was as he suspected, he felt nothing toward her.

He may always feel a sense of frustration toward her that she should continue to hold onto this infatuation over him despite the the fact that he'll never feel the same.

But a part of him envied her ability to be that steadfast and unwavering in her devotion.

Despite him believing she must constantly be in pain, if she was, she was a master at hiding it. His own hurt is not something he can so easily silently shoulder, as much as he tried.

[obigem]

There she was out there illuminated by nothing but stars and moonlight, enacting her seal on a promise the boy who was looking on at her from afar would never know about.

In that moment, she had gotten exactly what she needed, the security that her boyfriend would no longer pull away from her.

In just one kiss, she was able to clear every worry, every thought, every seed of confusion that may have taken root in the course of one night. She drew him in closer to her and he reciprocated, his tender touch holding her close by the waist. And all felt well. All felt right.

The story played differently from just beyond the doors of the ballroom.

For one at least.

One who might've wished in that moment that he hadn't thought to go looking for her. That he maybe would've failed to find her. That he had stayed in his fog long enough that she might've left already.

It wasn't as if he had never seen the two entangled in such a manner before, but tonight…

As he looked on at them, his heart ached so fiercely he questioned whether it was actually failing on him. The feeling of hoping too much only to watch that hope shatter searingly slow right in front of you.

Watching his heart succumb to the flames was but a solitary act that Matthew intended to endure, but it wasn't one without witnesses.

The second Matthew made his way across the ballroom, Otillie's eyes attached to his frame unwaveringly even as she watched it wilt and crumple.

Otillie's true nature was that of a cold, calculating, pertinacious woman who was as clever as others found her beautiful.

But when she spied what enraptured Matthew's gaze, she could afford to execute just a bit of softness.

"It would seem somone else has plucked your flower."

Only a bit.

"She's cute. I can see why you might be infatuated with her. But it seems I was right after all. She doesn't know the man you are or how easily she could have you within her grasp if only she were to want it."

"I don't recall stating I wanted your company." Matthew finally spoke.

"You know I couldn't leave you alone seeing you like this. After all who more than me knows the feeling of unrequited? Sadly we have that in common now. But we needn't bear that alone."

"And what is it that you are suggesting?"

"That you be done right by my hand." She approached him.

[obigem]

Matthew stopped on the staircase landing, his mind still very much in a fog. Too much had happened, a lot of which seemed so implausible, and yet here he was, his hand still warmed from where she once touched it.

"You were a vision of perfection out there tonight." His mother's words broke his trance.

He didn't have the words to acknowledge her, so he simply shrugged his shoulder.

"I mean it, truly. It's just as I suspected. You and Cordelia make a handsome pair. If I didn't know better, I'd say you really captured her heart tonight. She looked quite smitten."

"Don't let your imagination run away with you, Mother." Matthew turned up his nose.

"Imagination? I'm certain if you asked anyone in this room, they'll have witnessed the same thing."

"If you say so." He continued to be aloof.

"OK then, why don't we ask the girl herself? Where's Cordelia?"

"Gone."

"Gone?"

"She was intent on getting home, and considering this function is filled with so many lionesses who seek to tear her to shreds it's not as if I'd be the one to stand in the way of that."

"Forget standing in the way. Matthew, tell me you're kidding. You let that girl leave alone?!"

"I'm…sure she's fine." Matthew's sentiment landed unconvincingly. Now that his mother had dragged him violently out of his fog, he could see now how foolish it was to let her go alone. What was he thinking? Of course he wasn't thinking at all. She'd short circuited all his reason.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine too." Diana scoffed. "Because you are going to see to it that she makes it home safely."

"What?"

"Don't act confused! She couldn't have gotten that far. Take the car if you have to. You will do as I say and ensure that girl's safety, am I clear?"

Matthew clenched his jaw to stop himself from making his knee-jerk snide remark in response to his mother deciding when she wants to be a strict mom. But this time, she was right. He should've been the one to insist earlier.

"Crystal." He replied.

"Good, now hurry along, it's dark out there!"

As he walked away, he continued to question where his head was at. Why was it tonight of all nights that all of this started to get to him? What made the ball different from every other time?

That spark he felt before.

Could it be that he hadn't imagined that after all?

Perhaps it was time for him to be honest with himself, with her, in more than just actions.

When he caught up with her, he'd decided, he'd let her know how he really felt. And maybe she'd feel the same way.

But as his eyes peered through the glass door, it was clear he was only fooling himself.

[obigem]

As Jai slowly closed his eyes, time stood still for the two outside of the ballroom, but inside of the ballroom, time was hustling on ahead as the older couples took the dance floor.

All was merry until a certain Holand Alto-DeBateau suggested cutting in on Malcom and Diana's dance.

It was bad enough that Diana already felt a way about Holly and her obvious interest in her husband, but what made it worse was that Malcolm played right into her hand.

"What's one dance between business partners, my chocolate strudle?" He caressed her cheek, but she shrugged him off.

"Business partners my botoxed ass!" Diana seethed through gritted teeth as the looks between the "business partners" intensified.

Her feelings were obvious, but it was Armand who insisted on maintaining a poker face that waned the longer his wife and "associate" danced closer and closer.

Armand was a go along to get along type of man. He loved his wife and daughters, he disliked confrontation, and when his wife told her the dance would be friendly, he believed her.

But even he couldn't be blind to the fire that blazed in her eyes with Malcolm, such heat he had never known.

"Easy, Kitten." Malcolm purred as Holly pressed into him. "My wife is watching and she's not as docile as your husband."

"I don't care." Holly purred back. "I need you"

"We can't. Not here." Malcolm insisted.

"If you really feel that way, don't meet me in the powder room in 20." A smirk snuck out.

"If he's trying to make me jealous, he can just go on and try harder!" Diana grumbled to herself. "I don't care at all who he dances with. Nope, doesn't bother me one bit. In fact, I might just go and dance with her husband." She worked herself up finding it better to try to convince herself.

That is until a more worthy distraction caught her eye.

"Well, if it isn't my little boy." She beamed as she spied Matthew making his way down the grand staircase. "If Malcolm can't make me happy right now, a progress report on my little project is sure to do the trick!"

[obigem]

"Whatever you're thinking, even if it's the ugliest, darkest, blackest thing in the world, I need you to tell me. No matter what it is. I need you to be honest and open and never shut me out again, otherwise this can't work. I need to know what you're thinking because when I don't, I get anxious."

"So, can you do that? Can you promise you'll talk to me through it all, even when it's rough or hard or you feel jealous for some reason?"

"Wait," The proclimation caught Jai off guard, "so, you're not breaking up with me?"

"I'm in like with you, you idot! It's not love, not yet, but it's pretty darn close. And I'd like the guy I'm in like with to not keep ghosting me and icing me out because I miss spending time with him."

"So, you're in like with me, huh?"

"Well, yeah. Maybe it's not the same as love or enough—"

"It's enough." Jai affirmed her. "It's more than enough. I love you." He said this time not hoping for or expecting an answer. It was simply a matter of fact. "I won't run away again. I don't wanna lose you. From now on, I'm open to you fully and completely. Even if it's ugly or dark."

"You promise?" Cordelia looked up at him hopefully.

"With all my heart, beautiful. I promise."

Her heart fluttered the way it always does when Jai calls her beautiful. Knowing that he could still have that effect on her, it was a relief that this rutt they fell into they would come out of it.

"Well, if you mean it—"

"I do!"

"Let me finish!" Cordelia cut back in. "If you really mean it, then I need you do something for me."

"Anything, just name it." Jai assured her.

"For the promise to be binding, we have to seal it."

"Seal it how?"

"I'll show you, but you have to close your eyes."

[obigem]

"Jealous?" Somehow the word hit Cordie like a gut punch. "Of what?"

"A lot of things. No," He sighed, "It'd be easier if it was a lot of things, or even one thing, rather than one person." He shook his head, the shame of it pricked at his pride.

"Cordelia, I've been in love with you since I was 10 years old. In that whole time, I never thought you'd ever see me as more than a friend, and then you did, and I was so happy, but also afraid that it could never last. When I see you with him, it's just a reminder that all of this could burst."

"Him? I don't understand." Cordelia's mind started to swirl around all of Jai's words, like she was standing still and everything around her was racing, just like at the dance when he told her that he loved her.

"Matthew." He was frank. "When you're around him, I can't explain it, you're just different"

"It makes me second guess myself and everything about me and you. I end up wondering when you're with me if you're thinking about him, if you'd be happier with him, if the reason when I told you I love you, you didn't say it back because you have those feelings for him and not me."

"Jai, that's not true!"

"I know!" Jai yelled back, louder than he meant. "I know." He said again much quieter. "I'm screwing this up because I've loved you since I was 10, and you've only known that for a year and half."

"I know that it doesn't make sense to expect your feelings to catch up to mine in that short of a timeframe, but it freaked me out that all the things I'd been fearing were true. I'm sorry. I should've told you all of this a long time ago, but I was scared that you'd think I was being pathetic."

"Jealousy. It's not exactly the most attractive thing. It's pretty easy for a guy to look like a loser because of it." Jai shrugged, his gaze downcast. What a way for things to end. Going out in a whimper, he thought.

"Jai," He heard Cordie say.

"What?" His gaze still turned down.

"Look at me."

As he looked up he could see her looking down at him. Her face was hard to read, but she definitely seemed determined, like she'd made up her mind about something.

"Do you remember what I said to you when I dropped by your job the other day?"

He nodded, unable to breathe past her next word.

"Well, I meant every word. That's how I really feel about you, Jairo. That's how I've felt since we started going out, and if that changes, I'll tell you, but I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

Cordie descended the stairs so they could be level with each other for what she had to say next.

[obigem]

There he was with a big stupid grin on his face. Like he hadn't already refused to come here tonight, like none of that ever happened at all.

"Hey," He said waving his hand at her. "Wow. Look at you. You look…just, wow. Not that you don't always look beautiful, but tonight—"

"Jai," Cordie cut him off, "I asked you what you're doing here." His honey sweet tongue was doing nothing for her right now.

"Oh, well, you wanted me to come, right? So I did, about an hour ago actually, but the guy at the door wouldn't let me in."

He gestured at himself. "It's a step up from the burger boy costume, but I guess still a far cry from black tie acceptable." His joke landed flatly, so he continued on awkwardly. "So I figured if he wouldn't let me in, the least I could do was find us a ride. So tada!" He cocked his head at the scooter.

"At 30mph, she won't get us all the way back to Oasis Springs, but she will get us to the train station. A comfier, classier ride home than the bus in half the time, and we can sit in the quiet car, so we can talk. Just like you wanted. All of it my treat!"

Any other day, Cordelia would've found everything that Jai was putting on the table very sweet, but not today.

"No." She said quietly.

"No?" Her answer jolted him.

"I'm tired of this, Jairo. You get in your feelings, ice me out, and then come back with some gesture to wipe it all away!"

"I could understand when you were feeling self-conscious about your family, or when you were having trouble balancing work with everything, even when it was to make my bracelet. But I don't understand this. You not wanting to come tonight. Making that a big thing and then just showing up?"

"Do you have any idea what it does to me not knowing where we stand? Worrying myself sick over why you won't spend any time with me or answer my calls? I can't be put in that kind of emotional ringer anymore, Jai. It hurts too bad. So…" Jai braced himself for an end, "explain it to me."

"If there's no way to fix this, at the very least, I feel like I deserve to know how or why we ended up here. So, can you do that for me?"

Jai's heart lightened, but only the tiniest of bits. He wasn't just blowing it, worse, he was self-sabotaging in the most collosal of fashions.

Cordie has always been his dream girl. When she asked to be his girlfriend, that was the happiest day of his entire life. Since, it's been a dream come true. Too good to be true even. And that's where all the trouble was. He could tell her all of that, but eventually they'd end up back here.

The only shot he had was to be honest with her. Not just about the nice and fluffy things, but the ugly parts too. Otherwise she'd never understand, and he'd always end up pushing her away like this.

"I was jealous." He finally said. Plain, simple, and to the point.

[obigem]

His tongue stuck on all the things he ought to say, all the things he wanted very badly to say. But what came out was, "What do you think?"

"I think…that I had a lot of fun tonight. And I think that you did too. And I also think that you should have fun like this more often. It looks good on you"

"Let's say I would want to try it on again, how would you suppose I would do that?" Matthew teased, perhaps hoping for more than what was possible.

"I think you already know the answer to that." Her smile deepened. "You know, this whole time I couldn't shake the feeling we've done this before."

"Through every single dance lesson it nagged at me. I almost completely put it out of my head until we danced tonight, and then I remembered."

Matthew's eyes widened.

"When we were kids, we did dance together, didn't we? Once, at your house, 3 or 4 renovations ago. I don't remember it clearly, but—"

"I do remember that I had fun. So much fun. Do you remember that, Matthew?"

His tongue still stuck on so many words, the fact that she had remembered after all, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to say—

"I guess you wouldn't, huh? That was so long ago, back when we were really good friends."

She turned away from him.

"But even if you don't remember that. I hope tonight at least reminded you that we were great friends once. So if you want, I'd like to try that again. Being friends I mean. Anyway, I should go. Goodnight, Matthew."

As he watched her go, his "goodnight" remained tangled up within the mass of other words that never made it out to her that night.

He released the breath he had been holding that whole time, and muttered underneath his breath, "you silly girl. Of course I remember. As if I could ever forget."

After Cordie had gotten her phone from the powder room, she made her way back down the grand staircase, still wistful from all the fanfare of the night. It had been about 2 or 3 hours since her dad dropped her off, and she wondered if he was still at the robotic shop.

Calling him would be no use. When he's working, he zones out and nothing can get through to him even the annoying, incessant rings of a cellphone. It drove her mother crazy that reaching him at the shop was impossible for that reason. But it was no big deal. She'd just drop by to see if he was still there.

And if he wasn't, that would still be no big deal. She knew how to use the bus system just fine even though Matthew was always such a pain about letting her after the sun went down.

Matthew

Her mind wandered away. If nothing else, the ride home would allow her to unpack the night and other things.

She made sure to head to the right door this time, one that actually was an exit. As the cold hair cooled her skin, the debacle from earlier reminded her of her conversation with Sandra. She hadn't gotten to say goodbye to her, but they do go to school together. She decided she'd find her Monday.

It was a shame that so many of the girls tonight were awful, but Sandra was a bright spot. She was hopeful that now that they had properly acquainted they could become friends. But that warm, floaty feeling took a sharp turn when she heard her name.

"Cordelia?" The voice was hesitant but familiar.

Right there in front of her was the boy who had flaked on her calls. The boy who she asked to ride home with her tonight. The boy who when asked to come tonight, wouldn't tell her yes. The boy who told her he loved her, and she couldn't say it back. Not yet.

"Jai?" Cordie breathed. "What are you doing here?"

[obigem]

He approached her, and right away the atmosphere became awkward. He had to wonder if it was because Edwina had chosen to bully her for payback on him for his verbal assault on her.

"You…didn't need to do that." Cordelia finally spoke up.

"Do what?"

"I might've overheard a few things."

Matthew's heart halted.

"How much…did you hear?"

"Well…I didn't realize you held any of my accomplishments in high regard. That was nice. But you didn't have to defend me against them. After all, what they said is true. I don't come from money, but it's not something I'd ever be ashamed of."

"The work that my parents do is so important. I'm proud of them, and if I could grow up one day and be even half the people they are, I think that'd be pretty great. They work for a living, sure, but it's work they're passionate about, and I think that's pretty admirable."

"If the people here can't see or appreciate that, then I guess maybe I don't fit in here. And if that's the case, I'm OK with that. I don't want to fit in with people who think my parents are lesser than because they don't earn an income from stocks or dividends or whatever rich people do to thrive"

"Stocks and dividends, huh?" Matthew smirked. "I see you've brushed up on your how to rich people intel."

"Don't be a wise guy! I'm not rich, remember? I don't know how these things work."

"Not everyone is like Edwina, you know. Some people don't care about pedigrees and titles."

"I know. Some people like…you, right?" There was a hopeful edge to her voice that caught Matthew by surprise.

He wasn't sure what it was she was hoping for, but the question prompted something he knew he had to make up for.

"I should've did a better job of preparing you for all of this." He said

"What do you mean? With all the practice we did, we were almost too prepared."

"Not the dancing." Matthew shook his head. "The thing is, I avoid functions like this because the type of people who attend are all pretense. The way everyone parades around each other like any of this stuff matters—"

"It's obnoxious. To have to be around it, to feign like it means anything at all, it's exhausting. It's why I don't like coming to things like this, and if I'm forced to, I ignore most of the pleasantries of it. But I didn't consider the impact of involving you. I'm…sorry. I was thoughtless."

"I think I may have jumped to a false conclusion that you purposely left out a lot of information about this ball, so I guess I'm sorry too. That wasn't fair to assume."

An awkward pause rested between them as they each began to fidget or play with their hands.

"Well, maybe I deserved the assumption. You obviously don't think I'm very nice to you, and maybe sometimes I do come off that way. I don't mean for it, I just unfortunately have a bit of a temper that comes out at the worst of times."

"So, is this you saying you actually want to be nice to me?"

[obigem]

A smirk reappeared on Edwina's face.

"Well if it isn't our parochial, dainty little white collar." Edwina glanced down at where her heel caught. "It seems your dress has placed itself underfoot of my heel. How very clumsy of you. You'll want to get that dry cleaned immediately or it will stain."

"It's OK." Cordelia brushed it off. "I'm sure it's nothing a little washing machine detergent won't be able to get out." Her gaze remained averted not wanting to engage with whatever Edwina was certainly playing at.

"With that material? I'm afraid a machine would simply tear it to shreds."

"In fact, forgive me. I should never have suggested dry cleaning for such a cheap garment. Why spare the expense when a dumpster is so much more cost effective? You know your way around a dumpster, don't you, sweetie? I hear people of your class dive for thrills often." Winnie stifled a giggle.

Cordelia bit her lip not daring to say a word back. Her parents always taught her that if she didn't have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all.

"Yes, of course you do. Be sure to watch where you're going next time, hun. Tabitha?"

"Yes?" Tabitha squeaked back.

"We're going now, dear."

"Edwina," Tabitha carried on in a hushed voice. "Why did you take the time to needle in at her? I thought you said you didn't like her and you wouldn't waste another single word more on her?"

"You're not wrong, Tabitha. Any other day, my shoe print on her ugly, cheap dress would've been enough."

"But we currently have an audience that has a vested interest in how that girl is treated. If I crush her, I crush him by default. And I'd very much like to ensure I have the very last satisfying word in after how he spoke so poorly of my conception. It's what he deserves."

"Edwina, I…I don't think I understand."

"I know, dear. Don't try to think too hard about it, you know how that gives you headaches."

"Thinking too hard is quite vexing."

"Indeed. How about some punch, and perhaps Ronald will ask you to dance again?"

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course."

Cordelia had only gone up to the second floor because she left her phone in the powder room. She didn't expect to run into any of the mean girls she had met earlier, and certainly didn't expect them to trash talk her.

But more than that, she hadn't expected to run into Matthew.

When he heard her voice in response to Edwina's jabs, he already knew. Turning to face her was only to confirm that.

She had some timing on her. He wanted to at least try and spare her of the cruelties of affluent posturing. But yet again, he'd only found another way to hurt her.

[obigem]

"Sp—sperm? Eggs? Materials! You're not both talking about s—se—s—"

"Tabitha, if you're going to stutter—"

"I'm not! But we're all dignified ladies and gentlemen of society now. We shouldn't be engaging in such vulgar conversation. It's not right!"

"You know what, Tabbie, you're right for once."

Edwina brushed her dress before standing.

"Come along, Tabitha, dear. Follow me. The Gentleman Landgraab will have to clean his mouth out with soap before he's allowed to talk with us a second longer with that filthy mouth of his."

"Umm..yes, coming." Tabitha scurried along to follow alongside her.

As they passed him, Tabitha did a slight apologetic nod toward him, likely on Edwina's behalf.

It mattered not to him whether they were sorry for their cruel words. They'd likely continue their gossip, just so long as it was far way from him. He could stomach a lot, but not when it came to Cordelia.

There was a lot he could never properly say or do, but when it came to defending Cordelia's honor and her good name, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do to uphold that. Even if it came at his own expense.

As Matthew suspected, the gossip of Edwina and Tabitha continued even as they made their way away from him.

"Edwina, honestly, after you said you wouldn't speak ill of him for my sake." Tabitha whispered.

"I can only hold my tongue to a point, Tabitha. I cannot allow him to insult me."

"Besides, his ill temper was very squarely placed on me. That's good, perhaps he might show you favor yet."

"You think so? I did call him dashing. Do you think he appreciated the compliment?"

"How could he not? And there may have been a compliment in there for you."

"You thought so too?"

"Because I wasn't sure if his meaning in one of us not being as dumb and stupidly overdressed as we look meant that he found my gown flattering or distasteful. That is of course if I'm the one he was referring to. Do you think?"

"Mmm, yes undoubtedly." Edwina replied unconvincingly.

Far be it from Edwina to be the one to bear the burden of explaining to Tabitha that Matthew found her slow-witted. She was her dear friend after all. Some things were better left unsaid.

"As much as he might fancy you, Tabitha, why not try diversifying your options? I have male cousins after all."

"Yes, but they're all so old! I'd rather not be a child bride."

"Many of my older cousins have begun to have children of their own. I can introduce you to one of them."

"Aren't they all infants and toddlers?"

"Tabitha dear, sometimes you must split the difference in the face of opportunity."

"But a toddler?! I'll have to wait ten years before we're the same age!"

"Tabitha, sweetie, that's not—"

But before Edwina could finish that thought, her shoulder brushed into something and her heel caught on fabric.

"Excuse me! Watch where you're—" And then Edwina met Cordelia's eyes.

[obigem]

When it came to gossip, Matthew rarely, if ever, engaged. He did not care about talks of status, money, or how well any of the people in the world of the affluent were measuring up to it.

Such talks were trivial, dull, and frankly annoying. Even critiques levied his way were no chinks in his armor.

The girls could've gone on exhaustively about how uncouth they found him or how useful they found his status as if it was something you could detach from him, the person who possessed it.

But the second the conversation turned toward thumbing their noses at Cordelia, that was different.

That was unforgivable.

"Well?" He repeated himself. "Tell me again the joke and why it's so funny." His tone was dark but steady. It was unimportant to him whether they found him very nice right now.

"Oh, Matthew!" Tabitha said startled. "It was nothing really, but you! You look dashing tonight."

"Your performance in the center role tonight was certainly something to marvel at. I bet you could make any girl look light on her feet if you simply showed them how. I fear I may have been somewhat heavy footed with Ronald." Tabitha not so subtlely hinted at him giving her an invitation to dance.

Perhaps if Matthew were as dim as she, he would have missed the hinting, but instead he ignored it with another more pressing objective on his mind.

"With how amused you look, Edwina, it seems more than nothing. So tell me, what is the joke?"

"Right now? The joke is your face." Winnie sneered.

"Winnie!" Tabitha protested. "She didn't mean that! Tell him you didn't mean it, Edwina. It's rude!" Tabitha said that last part in a hush as she desperately hoped to save face.

"Of course I mean it! How dare he glower at us and try to interject into a conversation amongst women. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 rude."

"You'll have to forgive me, how can I say this politely. Oh right, I don't give a llama's right ass cheek what vapid things go on in your head."

"Excuse me?! You—"

"But I do find it far more rude that in your boredom you'd spare time to disparage someone undeserving of your vitriol."

"Someone undeserving?" A smirk started to play again on Edwina's lips. "Oh I see, the working girl? What again did I say that was so disparaging? That she's common? That she erred in her dancing? All of those are matters of fact."

"Well were not certain about the hair thing."

"Hush, Tabitha."

"Of the three of us here, only one of us isn't as dumb as stupidly overdressed as we look, but past that, two of us are smart enough to read in between the lines in what your words imply. Being common does not make one poor in character or less notable than anyone here."

"As much as you like to peacock around your status as a Goth, I'd wager my family's entire family worth on her level of class above yours any day of the week."

"Is that so? That common girl, Felton or something of it, what remarkable things has she accomplished?"

"She's taken the class presidency two years running. She built the school's debate club from the ground up and leads it. She tutors classmates 3 days a week, participates in student council, all while maintaining a 4.0 GPA."

"Yawn," Winnie fanned her mouth. "Try something I've heard of."

"Until she's done something as renowned as building the Goth Foundation from the ground up like my mother, she's as run of the mill as any public school pleb."

"Is that so? Well then tell me, Edwina, what have you accomplished?"

"What do you mean? I'm a Goth. That's accomplishment enough."

"I see. So outside of being lucky enough to be the last of your father's sperm to fertilize your mother's aging, depleted egg supply, you don't have any accomplishments. How very sad for you."

"At least my parents' materials weren't wasted on producing a ruffian like you!" Winnie spat back.

[obigem]

While Matthew continued to do what he did best, brood, Edwina and Tabitha found refuge from the dance floor to rest their feet a while and engage in conversation away from the rest of the court.

"Must they make these dresses so puffy?" Tabitha fussed as she tried and failed to smooth down her dress

"The older material is so much stiffer. Thus is the drawback of going vintage." Winnie waved her off.

"Oh no, you don't think anyone noticed that my dress may be a bit older? How embarrassing."

"Relax, your dress didn't stick out as much as other things."

"Things like what?"

"What do you think?"

"Or should I say who." Winnie let out a smirk.

"You don't mean—"

"Of course I do. The little working girl. As if she didn't stick out enough with those flowers on her head like she's of the fields, but that choice of hairstyle. Do you think it's all her own hair?"

"Whose else's would it be?"

"You're not suggesting like a witchcraft thing are you?" Tabitha grew concerned.

"Tabitha dear, don't work that brain of yours too hard. I was simply referring to how some people like her have trouble growing their own hair, so they buy extra, sew or braid it in for length."

"They get them in bundles for pennies on the dollar at those tacky little beauty and drug stores"

"Is that how they do it" Tabitha gasped. "So is that how you did yours for the Villareal Charity Benefit last summer?"

"No, Tabitha dear, that was a very 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵, expensive process. Hardly the same"

"Something that girl would clearly know nothing about. Certainly Matthew should've thought twice about bringing someone so plebeian for an event as important as this one. Entering society with a commoner? Who ever heard."

"Well, maybe he has a reason for it. Perhaps she's in need."

"Yes, in need of some dance lessons. Did you notice how she completely fumbled the final motion of the dance? What an embarrassment. I know Landgraabs can be uncouth but to create such a spectacle as some contrarian stunt is an affront to 𝘮𝘺 family's respected event. He should be ashamed."

"Edwina, you mustn't be too harsh. You may not get along, but the Landgraabs are well respected."

"Ugh, though I can't see why. It's nothing but bravado and scandal with them."

"Not everyone can be a Goth. Some of us could benefit from attracting the favor of a Landgraab." Tabitha shrank.

Though Tabitha was never gifted with the brightest bulb, Winnie did have a soft spot for her, and she sympathized with her family's recent money troubles.

"Yes, of course, Tabbie. Were he to show you favor, I'd be very much in your corner. You'd elevate him after all."

"Oh stop!" Tabitha blushed.

"It's no competition really, not with the girl he's aligned himself with. Makes you wonder if those flowers in her hair are true roses."

"Edwina!"

"Please, as if you weren't thinking it! Could they be made of silk? No, that's too fine for her, perhaps plastic or paper." Winnie began to cackle.

"Perhaps clay?" Tabitha decided to play along. "Or dirt or mud?"

"Oh Tabitha, you certainly can be clever when you want to be!" Edwina's shrieks became louder as she failed to contain her laughter.

So loud that they jostled the attention of—

"And what may I ask is so funny?"

—a certain Landgraab.

[obigem]

After the graduation dance came to an end, the adults were welcomed back onto the dance floor to share dances with partners of their choice, and the newly minted ladies and gentlemen were free to stay dancing with their own partners or other members of the cotillion court.

The music quieted encouraging the couples on the floor to grow more intimately close to one another, to the chagrin of some, but the delight of others.

But others still found places to be besides the dance floor, though even they too couldn't find themselves that far from it.

As Matthew watched the dancers below, his mind grew hazy as the night played back for him.

It wasn't just that Cordelia and him had shared a dance, they had done that before, but there was something about the way they danced together tonight that felt different.

The thought occurred to him that maybe something had changed, so he turned it over and over and over again in his mind to convince himself that maybe he was making too much of things. Perhaps the only thing that had changed was that his own feelings had suddenly grown to be much more for her.

There was something about having her in his arms tonight holding her close being able to be perfectly honest with her through each movement, each turn that made him crave her presence that much more. Under different circumstances perhaps he could even be moved to say something, to confess.

Perhaps he was imagining it, that spark between them when they touched, perhaps it was all in his mind that it wasn't just him that she felt it too. He could almost convince himself of that until he reminded himself that in the end she pulled away. That action solidified that it wasn't mutual.

He knew that already, so there was nothing to lament.

If nothing else, perhaps at the end of this they really could be friends. His heart twinged.

Quit that Landgraab, he scolded himself, after all, is that not as much as you could've hoped for?

In a first floor restroom is where Cordelia soon found herself after the dance came to an end.

As the couples on the floor found themselves falling into another dance and the older couples flooded in to cover the empty spaces, she moved without thinking not wanting to get swept up in it.

Not that it would've been the worst thing in the world to partake in another dance with Matthew. She just felt…a bit funny about it. Like she knew if she allowed it to happen it might be a bit wrong?

She ran her hands under the cold water of the faucet as she turned the thought over in her mind.

You're being silly, Cordelia, she quickly countered herself. Why would it be wrong? She puzzled over it as she questioned why that was the first word that came to mind when she thought of it.

If she had to reason it, maybe it's because in the end she didn't stick the landing of their dance.

This world of privilege is so staunch in tradition and appearances, and because of her, Matthew's prestige as a Landgraab was marred. Another dance was another chance of marring it further. It made sense for her to think that, so that must be it. She didn't want to embarrass him.

Despite everything he left out about tonight, he had been kind to her. In actuality, he hadn't been that mean to start with. It was possible she may have overreacted when she confronted him before. He had been kind not just tonight, but through their practices he had been patient and gentle.

It was so much easier to notice how much the scowling, gruff version of him may just be a disguise he tries on. In fact she knew it to be true because he'd always been like that. The way he is now, the way he was before. During their dance.

She shook her hands dry. Another dance would've be wrong.

Because as kind as he was to her tonight, he didn't deserve to chance her embarrassing him in front of his world tonight if she made another mistake.

But.

She had fun.

She smiled to herself as she remembered now why his friendship did matter to her.

Because the kind of fun they had together was unique. Unexpected. That kind of fun, that feeling, she's never quite been able to have with anyone else.

[obigem]

The speed at which her hand retracted back toward herself was a surprise to Matthew, but even more so to Cordelia.

While the thought of going through with the final move gave her so much pause, the intensity of her reaction to what might have happened if she had let it surprised her. But as a result—

She had messed up the final move of the dance. The one thing she had tasked herself with for the night—not to make a mistake—she had broken that rule.

She had to fix this. She could offer her hand back to him, but she promised Matthew she'd let him lead, if she moved first he'd be angry.

But the longer they stayed like this, the more obvious their mistake. How could she make this right?

"Relax." She heard Matthew speak in a low but firm voice. "I told you if you missed a step, I'd cover for you, didn't I? So stop looking so worried. A frown just further spoils that face of yours."

"But….everyone will notice that we did it wrong, won't they?" Cordie chanced a look up at him.

"Not if you do exactly as I say." Matthew reassured. her. "Stand up straight then bow toward me and after I address you, answer me back honestly. OK?"

She nodded, then replied. "OK."

Matthew retracted back his own hand and then stood up straight and did a slight bow. Cordelia followed his lead and did the same.

Despite her messing up the final move, he didn't seem angry with her though he had every right to be. She had freaked out and didn't think. She let him down.

If his face was one of anger, it was well concealed.

Not quite a smile, perhaps a smirk played around the corners of his lips as she suspected he planned to pay her back for her misstep. But as he stood to address her, the only words that left his lips were "Cordelia Fletcher, it's been a pleasure."

He had managed to do something unexpected a second time that night and catch her off guard.

The one thing she held onto through this act was that she'd be able to get through it, if he promised to be nice to her and he actually followed through on that promise.

The boy who stood in front of her, who was now officially a gentleman, had somehow managed to do that and so much more.

He surprised her.

Who knew that all along this version of Matthew Landgraab was right there hidden in the rough.

"The pleasure was mine." She responded back with a smile.