deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 12 - The Dance

After dinner, I head to the girl's locker room with Elizabeth, Tori, and Rachel. While there, I change into my dress and high heels, wipe the orange and blue paint off my face, fix up my makeup, and do my hair up nicely.

The dress does fit perfectly, by the way, just as I thought it would.

I look at myself in the mirror excitedly. All I can think is that I really hope this impresses Griezmann.

All my friends look wonderful, too. In fact, Rachel looks so good, that I'm nervous about Griezmann's eyes being drawn to her instead of me.

But honestly, when I really think about it, aren't I, like, always worrying about that? And so far, he's always shown more interest in me. So hopefully this evening will be the same way.

Once all four of us are ready, we leave the locker room and go to the big gym where the dance is taking place.

Elizabeth smiles and says to us, "I see Mbappe over there talking with his friend. I'm going to go over guys, okay?"

We all smile and nod, encouraging her to go over. I mean, she's the most successful one out of all of us- the only one with a date for homecoming.

I watch as Tori's deep brown eyes search the gym, and I know she's looking for Neymar. It's not too hard to find him- he's in the center of everything, laughing and talking with a group of people- boys and girls. I can see the hurt in Tori's eyes as she watches him take a girl's hand, spin her, and kiss her on the lips, in the middle of the gym, in front of everyone.

I mean, I know I'd be close to tears if I saw Griezmann doing that to another girl, if not crying. So I really feel bad for Tori. I gently touch her shoulder, and she looks over.

"Yeah, Tori."

"Yeah?"

"I know you're upset about Neymar."

Her eyes look down. "Yeah?"

"But, hey, we can still have some fun, right? Did I tell you I like Griezmann?"

"No, but Elizabeth did."

"Well, it's not like I can dance with him, either. He doesn't like me, you know. So why don't we go out there?" I grab her hand, smiling at her. "And why don't we just dance together?" With my other hand, I grab Rachel's. "Come on, girls. Let's stop moping about our crushes not liking us, and just go out there and have fun, yeah?"

I watch as Tori's eyes brighten and Rachel grins, and they both nod.

And we do. We go out there on that dance floor, and we have fun. Me and Rachel don't even look for Griezmann, and Tori doesn't even look for Neymar, because we're just being friends, and we're just having fun.

Finally, though, all of our ankles hurt, we're sweating, and our throats are drenched. Plus, a slow song comes on, so we go to the snack table and grab some fruit punch, because what do a group of high school girls do at a school dance other than stand at the snack table and drink fruit punch? I mean, really.

I chug about three glasses of the cheap fruit punch and wipe my mouth as my friends stuff their faces with shish kabobs.

I point out Elizabeth to the two girls. She's dancing slowly with Mbappe, their hands entwined. There're very awkward- I can tell that much from here- but they're also softly talking with each other, laughing.

"You think they'll be a couple?" Rachel asks us.

"I hope so. They're adorable together," Tori comments. I nod in agreement to this statement.

Rachel nods.

Suddenly, my eyes fall upon Griezmann, who is standing at the other end of the snack table, quietly staring at a plastic cup of fruit punch.