The not-a-princess

Confessed heart-ache

The next couple of weeks all the students of Good were chattering about one thing. And one thing only. The upcoming Snow Ball. In two months. The boys would lose half marks if the didn't get a date for the prom and the girls, an automatic fail. Posters flapped around on locker doors just as excitedly. 

During classes, the boys and teachers would go and put up lights and papermaché, spending their lesson time to decorate and get ready. The girls would train hard to be able to have the perfect smile, the right conversations and how to eat without ruining your lipstick. But things weren't going as well as theteachers planned, some of the boys were pinning after 1 girl, some boys were after Ria and some boys said they'd rather die than take a girl to the ball. 

And on top of all that, instead of actually helping the event come together, the boys were too busy swinging from chandeliers and rolling each other up in fabric mummies. The girls weren't any better, too busy being worried about failing [and you know what happens when you fail: the thought of turning into an earthworm is just as horrifying]. 

The girls were not even attending classes, some starving themselves in their rooms just to fit into the dresses they wanted to wear, others too busy getting or doing others nails, hair and make-up as well as other students borrowing and begging and stealing for some scraps of cloth. I wasn't in class either, there was no point because for unknown reasons I was feeling ill. My stomach was churning with nausea and I had to keep stepping out onto the balcony for fresh air. My palms were sweaty and I only tossed and turned every night. 

I thought I was coming down with something. But yesterday when I saw James holding a ladder steady for a girl, a smile on his pink lips as he reassured her, my heart races uncontrollably. I watched her slip, James moved sharply catching her bridal-style in his muscled arms. Her face was so close to his chest and her arms thrown around his neck. It twisted itself into knots. I rush back to my dorm. Why did I feel like that? What was happening? The sudden wave of anxiety makes me feel physically unwell and I wrap my arms around myself. That night, all I could think about was that scene with James. 

How could he smile at another girl like that? Is this... is this jealousy? 

How can I be jealous of someone? 

Me? 

I always thought jealousy was ridiculous. I never understood why girls acted so strangely when turned with love. I always thought their actions were uncalled for and unjustified. Yet here I am. I sigh flopping into my pyjamas. 

Who am I jealous of? 

James? 

Do I want him to look at me the same way? 

No, he already does? 

So what is it?

 Do I want HIM to ask me to the ball? My face goes hot, I slap both my hands on my head and roll around on the floor like the flustered mess I am. This is my room, you can't judge. Ria was no where to be seen, as per usual. Though I heard her slip in the room every night while she thinks I'm asleep and smokes on the balcony. Other nights she sings Tapioca to sleep because of his sleep paralysis. Sometimes she sits next to me, and well, as much as I hate to admit it, it helps my insomnia go away. 

Its tradition that the boys ask the girls out, the eve before. The theme is this year was royalty. Despite my usual self I skip my exams and go and get my hair done from a senior. I spend hours picking colours for my nails, I call professionals to help choose my make-up and use up every free bit of my time to shop online for shoes. Ria's side of the room gets messier by the day as she piles up different dresses and corsets. 

Sometimes I rifle through her things picking up laces, tulle and accessories for my own dress. I really need to impress. When my mother called last evening, I excused my actions saying that if I don't impress a guy to take me, I'll fail. That worked enough for her. In the end, the only thing left was the dress. And there was only a week left. I was horrified. For my slight tan, I went for a golden husky look for make-up, in a warm tone eyeshadow and a nude lip. 

I was going to have my hair put up in crown braid with blue cornflowers and forget-me-nots. Which was a shame because I would of preferred hydrangeas but their slight purple tint wouldn't go well with the original Cinderella style glass shoes that are coming in the mail tomorrow. And yes, Ria was the one who advised me on this. 

The next couple of days were made of stress with my eyes glued to phone as I scrolled through dress options. There. That was the one. Without hesitation I pressed the 'pay' button. I didn't even need to blink. After that, I took the deepest breath and cheered. Another weight off my shoulders. 

 --- 

James however has been trying to act like he doesn't care about prom. He tried his best to keep his cool demeanour and downplaying his anxiousness. He strutted through the gym towards me, trying to keep his head held high as groups of boys flocked behind him. Despite this, on the inside he was biting his tongue, terrified of rejection in front of everyone. 

His eyes betray him and I catch his nervousness as he approaches closer towards me as I was stretching ready for my Princess Ball Dance class. He gives me a hand up which I accept and I felt my own nonchalance crack and so goes my façade. James tried an arrogant smile and began, stumbling over his words and mixing in a joke but eventually says, "Your uh, too pretty to be going solo to such an event, I'd hate it if you failed and turned into a rat or something." 

I quickly gather up my courage and casually say, "and what is it,you are trying to question me on, Prince James?" 

I watch his adam's apple bob up and down. "I guess you'll want someone with as much style as me, right? So how about going with none other than me?" my heart stopped, the question I waited for was here. The question that made me stress until I turned into a balding hedgehog. 

I light up, my eyes wide with excitement, "YES, OF COURSE. I've been waiting for you to ask me." I quickly cover my mouth with my hand and quickly play it cool, leaning forward and cough. "I mean, you think you ca nkeep up with me for prom? Just so you know I expect a great time. Don't disappoint," I correct, trying to hide my thrill