Text to: Jake Morris-Whittaker, 10:42 pm
Soooo what exactly does one wear to a black-tie gala?
👀 Are you going to a black-tie gala?!
Yeah 😰
😲😲😲
I'm calling you!!!
~*~
The swoop of my stomach as the elevator rocketed up to the hotel's rooftop banquet room had nothing on the way it had been nauseously roiling all week. I'd barely been able to focus on classes, let alone that afternoon's soccer game, and it was like my game-time adrenaline spike had never gone back down. I'd jiggled and fidgeted the entire time Gyeong-Ja had done my hair and makeup, and she'd had to push me out the dorm room door after I'd caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror.
It had been like looking at an alternate-reality Ellie. An elegant one. A stylish one. I'd bought my very first formal gown—a black, sleeveless chiffon dress with a high, lace neckline—on a frantic trip to Nordstrom's with Audra, Gyeong-Ja, and Jake via FaceTime. My mother would kill me if she ever found out that I'd gone without her, but I couldn't face the barrage of questions she'd have fired at me. Especially when it was all pretend.
I did snap a mirror selfie though, if only to prove that I could transform into the pretty, perfect daughter she'd always wanted me to be. All it had taken was the sleek chignon and impeccable smoky-eye that Gyeong-Ja had meticulously created for me. And maybe a little photoshop to erase the giant purple bruise on my arm. It and my throbbing, twisted ankle were the only things tethering me to my real self—war wounds from that afternoon's brutal win and reminders that, under all the makeup and fancy clothes, I was still the Ellie who slide-tackled with reckless abandon.
Now, though, it felt even more like I'd slipped into some glitch in the matrix. Because beside my glossy reflection in the mirrored elevator doors was someone who had absolutely no business looking so good in a tux. Where most guys might've looked a little ridiculous with a bow tie, Theo pulled it off effortlessly. He was adjusting one of his cuff-links when he caught me staring for the bajillionth time.
He nudged me with his elbow. "You okay?"
"Yup," I replied brightly.
But I really wasn't. I'd been intimidated since I'd met him outside the dorms, in front of the idling black sedan his parents had sent. I partly blamed Audra—she'd taken it upon herself to give me a crash-course in black-tie etiquette while Gyeong-Ja had done my hair, which had only hammered home how ill-prepared I was for all of this. Sure, I could small talk. But when Audra had pulled up the latest high society blogs to show me what I was about to wade into, my nerves had wound taut. I had no idea what a venture capitalist was. I'd never sailed or golfed in my life. I didn't know when New York Fashion Week was, and I'd definitely never been to Paris or St. Barts. I couldn't even name three high-end shoemakers.
Mostly, though, I blamed myself. I was the one who'd risen to William's bait. It was my fault that we were doing this in the first place. If I'd just kept my mouth shut, Theo and I could be watching movies on the common room couches. Instead, I was in an elevator, on my way to high society hell.
"I don't buy it," Theo said, watching the floors tick away as we shot skyward. "You gonna tell me what's going on, or should I hit the emergency stop?"
I didn't get a chance to reply before the elevator slowed, launching my stomach into my throat. When his knuckles brushed mine, I seized his hand and relished its warmth. He squeezed my fingers, but I didn't dare look up at him, not when he looked so damned handsome. Not when he'd been my favorite Theo the entire way here, distracting me with idle chatter and his trademark sass. I'd made the mistake of meeting his gaze only once on our hour-long ride, and I'm pretty sure I'd flushed as red as a tomato. Because all I'd been able to think about was the last time we'd been alone in a car. What I'd wanted him to do. What I still wanted him to do.
The elevator doors whooshed open and the din of chatter, clinking glasses, and smooth piano jazz filled the silence. I gulped.
"Ellie." Theo pulled me back when I took a step forward, then held my gaze as he brought my freezing fingers to his lips. "We've got this, okay?"
All I could do was nod. His smile was genuine, until he looked out towards his parents' party and transformed. It was subtle, but I'd begun to recognize the way he straightened his spine and relaxed his shoulders. Watching his smile change from the lopsided, honest one that reached all the way to his eyes into a razor-sharp one was like watching him don armor.
Despite the nausea in my stomach, I did my best to channel that energy. It wasn't easy though, not with the looks we were already getting as we strode down the hallway. Most of the guests milled near the bar in the middle of the massive banquet space, though some had broken off to chat around high-top tables scattered around the floor-to-ceiling windows. Candles glittered on every surface, surrounded by artfully arranged flowers, and outside, string lights bathed the wraparound stone terrace in a soft golden glow.
"The rules of this game are as follows," Theo mumbled as we approached the thickest part of the throng of elegantly-dressed Boomers, "You must do your very best to out-snob everyone. And never let them see you back down. It's all lies, but it's the only way to avoid death by a thousand petty jabs. Watch."
"Theo, my boy!" called out a portly, gray-haired man. He extended the hand that wasn't clamped around a lowball glass.
"Judge Peterson, how are you?" Theo said in his wickedly charming tone. "Where's your lovely wife?"
"Bah, who knows. Probably buying up the entire silent auction. Last year, we ended up with six international flight vouchers we never used. Why fly commercial when you can go private, eh?" When he released Theo's hand, he turned to me. "And who might this be?"
"My girlfriend, Ellie Morris-Whittaker," Theo said.
"Lovely to meet you," I said, shocked that my voice wasn't as wobbly as my knees.
"Girlfriend, eh?" The judge side-eyed Theo. "I've never seen her around these things before. Did you two meet at school?"
Theo cued me with a squeeze of my fingers.
"We did," I said, then leaned into Theo's game and lied. "I'm not from around here, actually. My parents are...real estate developers."
A partial lie, really. My mom had done a stint as a real estate agent once upon a time.
"Oh really?" Judge Peterson's bushy eyebrows lifted. He appraised me over the rim of his drink, eyes lingering on my bruise. I resisted the urge to twist my arm and hide it.
"Ellie's a fellow varsity soccer player," Theo said. "Her team just secured first place in their division."
"Fascinating." The judge ripped his gaze from my arm. "My Chelsea's going to be mighty disappointed you brought a date, Theo. I think she was planning to ask you to Carling's Sadie Hawkins formal."
"I hate to break her heart," Theo said, smiling down at me. "But mine's off the market."
A shiver rippled up my arm from where Theo still held my hand. With the way he was gazing down at me, it was an effort to remind myself that they were just words. Just a part of the game. When another flush crept up my neck, I offered the judge a smile. He just scowled.
"Well, as much as we'd love to chat, we have to find my parents," Theo said with a dip of his head. "Have a nice evening, Your Honor."
He cut around the judge with me in his wake, and I locked my parting half-smile in place as we wove through the crowd.
"Excellently done, Emdubs," Theo muttered, between passing greetings to the other guests, "You aced your first test. The next one, though—"
"You made it!"
Theo and I both went rigid. Madeleine appeared in front of us, clutching a glass of something sparkling. She was dressed in black too, but I knew without a doubt that her dress would never have been found on Nordstrom's bargain rack like mine. Hers was also high-necked, but entirely backless. And the cutout in front showed just the right amount of cleavage to keep it on the fashionable side of risqué.
"We did," Theo said. "Have you seen—"
"Your mother's been wondering when you would arrive," she said, gesturing for us to follow her. She'd swept her hair back into a sleek, perfectly straight ponytail that swished over the bare expanse of her back. I didn't miss the way Theo's eyes followed it, and I definitely didn't like the bitter taste that left in my mouth.
But I didn't get to dwell on it, not when my eyes locked with William's over Madeleine's shoulder. He was in a tuxedo, too, his blond hair perfectly styled. He looked at least 5 years older than he was, and his face softened into that heartbreaking smile when he saw me. He was talking with a middle-aged man with silver-blond hair and a groomed beard, whose gaze followed William's to me and held.
"Ah, darling! You made it!" exclaimed the stately woman with pale blue eyes and a sleek brown bob standing on William's other side. Her navy, long-sleeved dress swished when she pressed her cheek to Theo's, thoroughly ignoring me as she rubbed his shoulders and looked him up and down. When I tried to pull away to give them space, Theo held firm.
"Mom," he said, then inclined his head to the silver-blond man, "Dad. I want you to meet—"
"Ellie, yes." His mother's attention settled on me. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "We were just talking about her, actually."
I bit back my nervous laugh just in time to blurt, "Only good things, I hope."
"Of course," she said stiffly, eyes dropping to the bruise on my arm. This time I did twist it away, pretending to fidget with my hair.
"So Madeleine, is it true?" asked Mr. Ellerby, "William just told me that you've applied to Princeton?"
"Oh, yes. I have," Her face melted into a charming, bashful smile.
"What program?" Mrs. Ellerby asked.
"Art history," Madeleine replied.
"Well, isn't that wonderful." Mrs. Ellerby's smile was genuine this time, if the affectionate way she reached out to touch Madeleine's elbow was to be believed. Madeleine managed an incredibly graceful blush, then looked up through her lashes at William.
I fought to keep from rolling my eyes.
"What about you, Ellie?" Mr. Ellerby asked, sipping his scotch. "What are your college plans?"
I resisted the temptation to glance at Theo for reassurance. His hand was still around mine though, so I tightened my grip. "I'm actually hoping for Princeton, too."
It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either. The truth was that Princeton was my reach school, one of the few division one women's soccer schools that was both Ivy League and not prohibitively expensive with an athletic scholarship. Realistically, though, I'd probably end up somewhere like UNC or UF.
"Really?" asked their mother. "I thought William said you were at Kingsbridge on scholarship." She said the last word like it tasted bad.
My shoulders crept towards my heating ears. I glanced at William, who just kept on politely smiling. Something about it felt like a betrayal—like he'd purposefully outed me as an impostor in front of his parents. But he was my tutor, and it had probably just come up when they'd all been talking about me.
"I am," I admitted. "I'm hoping to play division one soccer in college."
It had been the wrong thing to say. Both parents stiffened. Mr. Ellerby looked at Theo, brows tightening, while Mrs. Ellerby's lips pursed. She ran another look down the length of me.
"You should come tour the campus next year. I'd be more than happy to show you around," Madeleine offered kindly, as if her mere act of applying to an Ivy League college meant a guaranteed acceptance. Then again, for someone like her, it probably did.
"Thanks," I said, mustering as bright a smile as I could despite my growing mortification. Theo's mother was looking at me like I was some sort of bug that had wandered into her fancy party, while his father was simply staring at him, jaw set.
I understood the rumours, now. The ones that had said that Theo was only dating me to stick it to his parents. And now I understood why he wanted Madeleine. Clearly his parents adored her, with her perfect hair and perfect pedigree and perfect college choice. If he'd brought a girl like her to this party, maybe he'd have impressed them. Maybe they wouldn't be staring at him like he was the world's biggest disappointment. I certainly wasn't enough to stop that. I'd probably only made it worse.
The nausea that had simmered in my stomach all week rose into my throat.
"I'm just going to run to the bathroom," I said to no one in particular, then whirled on my too-tall heel and fled.
**A/N: Part 2 coming next week! And ooooh boy is Ellie not ready for this whole scene haha. As always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment!**