Cute, Cozy, Queer Stories

Part 30: Cindy & Cristiano

The dress sighed and whispered around her feet as Cindy made her way down the hall, towards the gymnasium. She held the skirt up just a bit, feeling like a courtly lady on her way to a ball.

Butterflies danced in her stomach as she stepped towards the large, thick gymnasium doors. A heavy beat seeped through, almost as fast as Cindy's heart beat. Taking a breath, she grabbed one door handle and stepped through.

Small points of sparkling, shifting, kaleidoscopic light, almost like dancing starlight, lit up the otherwise dark gymnasium. Dark shapes in suits and dresses shifted past as Cindy entered, stepping carefully and looking around. At the back of the gym, on the stage usually set up for special assemblies or speeches, a DJ stood behind a computer connected to a mess of wires, flanked by two large speakers. Blue and white lights—the school colors—set on the edge of the stage barely lit the suited figure as they nodded along to the beat. A woman's voice spoke-sang behind the fast music, lyrics Cindy knew in the back of her mind somewhere. To the right, near the stacked bleachers, long tables held punch bowls, pizza boxes and cookies. Two the left, a few bleachers were unstacked and extended, where a few couples and groups sat. In front of the stage and the DJ, filling maybe half the gym, dozens of students nodded to the music, making subtle, carefully-disinterested movements, or huge, carefully-ridiculous shows.

Cindy swallowed, the excited butterflies in her stomach suddenly dropping into anxiety. She didn't know anyone. In the dim light, and in the gorgeous dress with her makeup done, she wondered if anyone would even recognize her. Then again, maybe that wasn't so bad. 

Taking another steadying breath, she made her way towards the punch bowl. She wasn't really hungry or thirsty, but she wasn't sure what else to do.

Standing behind a girl she thought she recognized from her history class, Cindy waited for her turn at the punch bowl. The girl's sleek black hair was done up artfully, half of her hair in elegant braids and secured with flowered comb, and half hanging loose down her shoulders. She wore a strapless dress with a short, flared skirt that reminded Cindy of the doll's dresses she used to admire, but never owned.

The girl turned, Solo cup of punch in hand. She paused, looking Cindy up and down once. The look was quick, but enough to make Cindy hold her breath.

The girl smiled. "Wow, I love your dress."

Cindy exhaled. "Yours too! And your hair is gorgeous."

"Thanks! My mom did it for me. Where'd you get your dress?"

"Um." A jolt of panic almost paralyzed her, but an easy response seemed to materialize before she could think. "It was my sister's, actually. Her prom dress."

"That's cool. You're so lucky you're the same size. Twice the clothes!" She smiled, and Cindy laughed. "Are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you."

"Um. Kinda. Like, the last year or so." She knew that sounded like a lie. She poured the punch to avoid looking at the other girl.

"Are you here by yourself?"

Cindy gave a wincing smile as she turned back, still avoiding the other girl's eyes. "Kinda. I'm kinda quiet, I guess."

"That's okay, I am too. I'm Soo-Young."

"I'm, um," Cindy paused. She was pretty sure she and Soo-Young shared a history class. And she was pretty sure there were no other Cindys in the school. In that moment, she didn't want to be recognized. 

As she tried to think of a name, her mind went blank. An effortlessly beautiful, dark-haired boy stepped from the dance floor, approaching Soo-Young. Cindy could only stare, heart pounding and mind empty, as Cristiano, dressed in fitted gray polo and dark slacks, stood next to Soo-Young.