I believed that holding onto a promise was going to be the toughest thing about my evening. I never imagined that simply stepping inside the school dance would make everybody stare at me for completely terrible reasons.
The gown carried the scent of wood and a tiny hint of her old fragrance. Two months following Grandma Clara’s burial, I rested on the side of my mattress, with the soft pink fabric resting on my legs just like a spilled drink.
I touched the small white buttons with my fingertips, going over each one.
I still remembered exactly how she appeared on that chilly afternoon, dragging the dress out from the deep corner of her wardrobe while her hands trembled.
My grandmother placed it gently on her mattress like it was a highly special object.
“I had this on during the evening your grandpa initially confessed his feelings for me,” she mentioned, flattening the soft material.
Her eyes were filled with tears, yet she looked completely sure.
“Swear to me you will take it out for a single dance again, Chloe?”
I gave her my word. Obviously, I was going to do it, and it was not due to a lack of money to buy a fresh outfit.
My mother, Sarah, tapped gently on the door and entered the room. She was gripping a tiny stitching box, although we had already completed the sizing changes seven days ago. We had repaired the back closure, lifted the bottom edge, and washed the little white buttons.
She took a seat next to me and slid her fingers across the bottom edge we had folded up as a team.
“The back closure is staying strong,” she commented. “Plus, those white buttons look absolutely gorgeous since I washed them.”
“You handled the majority of the work, Mom.”
“We handled it as a team.” She gently grabbed my leg. “Your grandmother would have really appreciated that.”
I stared at the outfit and realized how it was not trendy, shiny, or highly priced. It was totally different from the fancy dresses the rest of the teenagers had been sharing pictures of online for a long time.
It was actually much greater. It belonged to her.
“Chloe.” My mother spoke in a very soft tone. “You do not need to attend or put on that outfit this evening if it feels too heavy for you.”
“I am required to go. And I am required to put it on. I gave my word to Grandma.”
She moved her head in agreement and gave me a peck on the cheek. “I understand. So go ahead and fulfill your word, sweetie.”
During classes that week, the corridors were noisy with chatter about the big dance, and a single name kept popping up more than the rest.
Harper.
No person had cast a ballot so far, yet everybody was already aware. Harper had made up her mind, and whatever she desired typically became reality.
Bella from my science class gave me a heads-up on Tuesday near my storage space, chuckling a bit. “Simply avoid Harper’s path at the dance, Chloe. You understand her attitude.”
I was not intending to block anybody’s path regardless, therefore I did not pay much attention to her advice.
The single weird part about that week involved Noah.
Noah, my science class buddy since the tenth grade, the silent guy who constantly handed me the safety glasses before I even requested them, had attempted to stop me in the corridor two different times.
On both occasions, I acted like I did not notice him.
“Hello Chloe, may I chat with you for a moment?”
“My apologies, Noah, I am running behind.”
I convinced my brain that he likely felt bad for my situation. Every kid at the building was aware of Grandma Clara’s passing. I did not desire to receive sad looks along with my class equipment, therefore I stayed away from him.
I really ought to have been smarter.
On the evening of the dance, I got up and slipped inside the outfit.
My mother closed the back very gently, her fingers shaking far worse than my own.
As I spun around to face the glass, I did not view a teen inside a worn-out dress. I noticed a young woman holding onto a fragment of a person she deeply cared about.
“You appear exactly like she did,” my mother said softly.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. “I am happy to hear that. I appreciate it, Mom.”
We wrapped our arms around each other.
Outdoors, the car my mother had reserved for me was parked, with its front beams glowing weakly in the evening light.
I bunched up the smooth material with a single hand, got inside the vehicle, and headed out to fulfill my word.
The second I walked past the sports hall entrance, the mood completely changed. People stopped chatting. Faces spun around to look.
I was wishing to sneak inside without anyone seeing, however the dull pink fabric grabbed the room lights in a manner that seemed incredibly bright.
Harper noticed me from the opposite side of the entrance area. She was waiting in that spot already, appearing highly confident like she had secured the winning title before the ballots were even cast. The shiny bits on her gorgeous gown sparkled, and a tiny group of buddies waited beside her like royal guards.
Harper walked over the tiles before I was able to approach the drink station, with her group trailing right behind.
Harper stared at my entire body in clear view of all the older students.
“Oh wow,” she spoke, her words echoing loudly. “Did a charity store misplace their window covers?”
Her buddies chuckled exactly when expected.
I attempted to walk past her, my fingers gripping harder onto the tiny purse my mother had let me borrow. Harper shifted right along with me, angling her face like she was examining a bizarre creature.
“Hold on, no,” she corrected. “You look like a trash can royalty!”
The giggling spread out further this round. I sensed warmth travel up my throat and spread completely over my face.
I held my face high and reminded my brain: a single tune, merely one tune for Grandma Clara.
Following that, Harper moved her body closer, near enough for me to breathe in her scent, yet maintained her volume high enough to hit the ears of everybody close by.
“Or perhaps a dead relative’s spirit.”
The laughing echoed everywhere in the room, and a tiny piece deep inside my chest stung painfully.
I provided zero response to her. I rapidly moved beyond her group in the direction of the dancing area border, where the bulbs turned a gentle blue shade.
I strongly wished to flee, to phone my mother and ask her to pick me up before a second painful insult hit me. However, whenever I considered exiting, I remembered Grandma Clara’s tone inside that sleeping area, gentle and slightly exhausted.
“Swear to me you will take it out for a single dance.”
Therefore, I walked out onto the tiles completely alone.
A slow-paced tune was airing, a classic track that the music guy had likely been ordered to ignore. I rocked side to side, keeping my eyelids mostly shut, and imagined her face. The little white circles resting near her neck, her fingers flattening the smooth fabric. The manner she grinned whenever she brought up Grandpa waiting beneath the outdoor lamp.
For sixty seconds, I was nowhere near the school dance. I was resting in my grandmother’s cooking area, sipping light tea and hearing her make quiet musical sounds.
As I unclosed my eyelids, I noticed Noah staring right at me from the far side of the hall.
He was not grinning, yet he was not giggling either. His lower face looked very stiff. Harper had her arm hooked around his, resting against his arm, however his gaze remained fixed on me, firm and cautious.
I broke eye contact initially, entirely confused by the meaning behind his stare.
A few teenagers chuckled at my appearance, yet I paid zero attention to them.
Once the track finished playing, I wandered over to the boundary, wishing to vanish for a bit. Right then, I caught Harper’s tone once more, sounding highly energetic, putting on a show for her buddies beside the stadium seats.
“Clearly, Noah is planning to devote his winning talk to me,” she announced. “I mean, what other person could he possibly devote it to?”
A single buddy of hers chuckled.
“Perhaps the charity store chick,” another teen teased.
“Oh come on,” Harper replied. “He feels bad for her, absolutely. Everybody feels that way. However, feeling sorry is not the same as a romantic note.”
I stopped completely still right in my tracks, partially covered by a tall pillar.
Harper continued chatting, naming the exact words she desired Noah to speak while adjusting a headpiece that was not even placed on her yet. She discussed him like he was a reward that had already been secured.
I pushed my spine into the chilly brick surface and shut my eyelids.
I had zero desire for a romantic note. I had zero desire for sadness. My only goal was to show respect for my passed grandmother and return to my house.
The music guy’s tone buzzed over the audio system, stating that the moment was approaching to reward the current year’s winning couple.
I attempted to sneak over to the drink station without catching any eyes. I simply required sixty seconds to inhale air before I decided if I should remain or phone my mother.
However, Harper located me right before the glass reached my mouth.
“Chloe, darling,” she mocked, gliding right next to my side wearing that rehearsed grin. “Are you seeking a trip back to your house? Before a person confuses you for the jacket attendant?”
Her buddies laughed quietly into their palms in the background.
I squeezed the cheap glass so fiercely that the top edge folded. My eyes burned, yet I denied her the chance to watch my tears fall.
“This outfit was owned by my grandmother,” I muttered softly. “She requested that I put it on. I showed up today because I gave her my word.”
Harper angled her face, analyzing my presence like I was dirt stuck to her footwear.
“Sweet tale,” she responded. “No person gives a damn.”
An instructor walked by while patrolling the area, and Harper’s entire expression changed instantly. Out of nowhere, she started chuckling gently and tapping my shoulder like we were close buddies enjoying a funny comment.
The instructor grinned and continued strolling, however the very second the adult vanished, Harper’s fingers fell away. Her grin vanished too.
“Hurry away, spirit chick,” she said under her breath.
I stepped away, not heading for the dancing space, but toward the restroom, where I shut myself inside the final toilet area and ultimately allowed the crying to start.
I dragged out my mobile using vibrating hands and phoned my mother.
“Mom,” I spoke softly. “I am unable to handle this.”
My mother’s tone sounded gentle through the speaker. “Explain to me what occurred, sweetie.”
I explained everything to her.
The window cover insult.
The spirit joke.
How Harper stood in my way like I needed to say sorry for simply breathing.
A heavy silence followed.
“Chloe,” my mother spoke warmly, “your grandmother would be extremely pleased with you for simply stepping past that entrance. If you desire to return to the house, I will arrive in ten minutes. Zero interrogations.”
I pushed my head into the chilly bathroom divider. “Except?—”
“Except,” my mother added, “the decision belongs to you. Not Harper’s. Not even Grandma’s. Completely yours.”
I pictured Grandma Clara’s vibrating fingers, flattening the smooth fabric and the tiny white circles my mother had washed individually at the dining table.
“A single extra tune,” I mumbled. “I will remain for a single extra tune.”
I tossed some water onto my skin and walked back outside into the loud crowd. Right then, I noticed Noah across the sports hall, resting his weight against the stadium seating and staring right at the entrance I had exited from. His lower face looked rigid.
Harper, who had glued her body to his side once more, was speaking upwards at Noah, moving both her palms around. While I observed, she extended her hand toward his sleeve. He moved his body, barely an inch, causing her fingers to grab absolutely nothing.
He repeated the action a second later, similar to the manner a person avoids dirty water without causing a fuss. Harper chuckled way too hard and attempted a third time. Noah shifted twelve whole inches completely away from her space and maintained his gaze on the entrance.
The truth finally made sense. Harper had stuck herself to his side the very minute he arrived. She had been faking a romantic connection the entire evening.
Noah had been silently rejecting her little show.
A quick flash of a past moment struck my brain.
During a certain moment, when Noah attempted to stop me during the school week, he questioned, “Chloe, may I share a secret with you prior to the weekend?”
I had completely ignored his effort.
Right now, his gaze connected deeply with my own from the opposite side of the room, and there was absolutely zero sadness inside them. There was a totally different feeling. A firm emotion. It felt like he had been counting the minutes.
I rapidly recalled that Noah’s grandma, Martha, had resided right beside Grandma Clara’s house for my entire life.
Four decades filled with outdoor coffee chats and celebration notes.
Prior to me completing my realization, the tunes stopped playing. The school boss walked over to the speaking stand sixty minutes following my entrance.
“And right now, introducing your winning couple! Noah and Harper!”
Harper floated onto the platform like she had practiced the exact walk while dreaming. She had her headpiece on and gripped her bouquet, grinning like the entire evening was her personal property.
Noah trailed a cautious pace in back of her, the special ribbon already hanging over his top half, yet he was not grinning in her direction. I saw that he still refused to lend Harper his sleeve. He grabbed the speaking device.
Harper chuckled like she assumed he was about to speak lovely words regarding her, however Noah was not even glancing at her face.
His gaze located me inside the massive group.
Noah’s words echoed loudly across the quiet hall.
“There is a highly serious matter I must speak about.”
The entire space became completely silent.
Harper glowed right next to him, her hands gripping harder onto her bouquet. I watched her tilt closer, anticipating her own title to be spoken.
The paper slips had been gathered near the entrance hours prior, tossed inside a shiny decorated container before any student had even made it to the drink area. The choices had already been tallied up. The ribbon was permanently his property.
After that, Noah stared right at Harper.
“The teenager wearing the soft pink outfit, Chloe, is dressed in clothing that was owned by my grandmother Martha’s closest buddy, Clara. Clara remained my grandma’s tightest pal for more than forty years.”
A wave of whispers traveled around the space. My legs turned completely shaky.
Noah kept talking while Harper’s jaw dropped completely open.
“Prior to Clara passing away, she requested a single favor. She explained to my grandmother that she desired Chloe to experience her dance while wearing the outfit, and she hoped a person would protect her during the event. I gave my word that I would handle it.”
Harper’s big grin shattered entirely.
“The events that hit Chloe this evening are things I refuse to remain silent regarding,” he stated.
He raised the winning ribbon past his hair and placed it softly upon the wooden stand.
“I have zero desire for this title. Not under these conditions.”
He walked right off the raised platform.
The crowd split open as Noah walked across the tiles in my direction. My lungs refused to pull in oxygen.
He halted right before my feet, and his tone lowered, sounding very gentle.
“Chloe. Will you share this dance with me?”
“You gave her your word?” I asked quietly.
He moved his head up and down.
The music guy figured out the situation without needing any instructions.
A gentle tune floated through the quiet room, and Noah grabbed my fingers.
Harper remained completely still on the platform, her headpiece leaning sideways, her jaw unhinged, her bouquet falling loose inside her hand. Absolutely nobody was paying attention to her any longer. She sneaked down the side stairs and exited the hall doors, and not a single person attempted to block her path.
I grinned and placed my cheek onto Noah’s arm. The smooth fabric shifted across my body like an extra pulse.
“She set this entire thing up, correct?” I spoke softly.
“Many weeks back. Using Martha. They planned it all out together,” Noah admitted.
Drops of water rolled over my face. I sensed my grandmother within every single foot movement, inside every spin of the soft pink gown.
I had fulfilled my word. And in some magical way, she had done the exact same thing.