You belong with me

Bonus chapter: The dance of dreams

The class droned on, a monotonous hum that reverberated within the four walls of the cramped classroom. Ella sat at her desk, her heart still fluttering from the ethereal dance with the prince that had seemed so vivid, so tangible. The flickering of the overhead lights and the soft rustle of pages turning around her faded into a distant echo, overshadowed by the haunting melody that lingered in her mind like a ghost refusing to depart.

With her pen clutched tightly between her fingers, she began to click it rhythmically, each sound a reminder of the soft, lingering touch of his hand against hers.

𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠.

The motion became a mantra, a hypnotic rhythm that transported her back to the enchanting ballroom where the world had melted away, leaving only the two of them and their unspoken connection. The soft fabric of her gown swirling around her, the gentle warmth of his gaze – it was all she craved in that moment.

But reality intruded cruelly upon her reverie. The teacher's voice, sharp and authoritative, cut through her daydreams like a serrated blade, scattering the delicate threads of her imagination. 𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠. 𝘾𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠 The pen continued its dance, each click echoing the beat of her heart, a futile attempt to reclaim the magic that had so swiftly eluded her grasp.

At last, the bell rang, its shrill sound a welcome reprieve from the monotony of the lesson. The noise exploded through the room, a cacophony that jolted Ella back to the present, the world around her spinning back into focus. Students began to rise from their desks, the clattering of chairs and the buzz of chatter filling the air, but all Ella could think of was the prince, the intoxicating dance, and the tantalizing what-ifs that tugged at her heart.

Her gaze flitted across the room, and she spotted Bridget, her best friend, with hair that shone like spun sugar in the sunlight, cascading in soft waves around her shoulders. Bridget had a lightness about her, a vivacity that contrasted sharply with the dullness of their surroundings. Her laughter was like a melody in its own right, a welcome sound that snapped Ella back to reality, grounding her in the present.

Quickly, Ella stood, the clamor of the classroom fading into a backdrop as she hurried toward Bridget,

“Bridget!” she called, making Bridget stop in her tracks.

“Not again, Ella,” Bridget said, her voice laced with gentle exasperation.

She stood before Ella, a swirl of energy and warmth amidst the bustling chaos of students pouring out into the hallway. Ella's heart sank slightly as she noticed the small, intricately wrapped gift resting in her hands,

“I—I just wanted to,” Ella stammered, the words clinging to her tongue like honey, sweet yet sticky, making it difficult to express the depth of her intentions.

The gift was a token of her affection, a small gesture to bridge the gap that had widened between them since the enchanted evening when she had danced with the prince—an evening she had promised to share with Bridget but had ultimately fallen short on.

Bridget's laughter danced in the air, light and effervescent, easing the tension that hung between them.

“You’ve already apologized a million times for ditching me at the ball,” she continued, her tone softening, an understanding glimmer in her eyes.

“And I have already forgiven you. As much as i appreciate your gifts, you have to stop.”

“But—” The words bubbled up in Ella’s throat, a desperate protest poised on the edge of her lips, but they were swiftly cut off by Bridget.

“No more buts, Ella.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, a delicate thread straining against the weight of their shared history. Ella felt the warmth drain from her cheeks, replaced by a mixture of frustration and resignation that settled heavily in her chest like a stone. She could only muster a deep breath, an exhale that was more a surrender than anything else, a small act of capitulation in the face of her friend’s unwavering resolve.