The Bad Boy's Princess

Chapter 17

"We need to find you a dress." Justine says, rummaging through the endless racks of costumes in this store.

"Do I have to go to the stupid Halloween dance? Can't we just have a girls night instead?" I ask.

She decided it would be a good idea to come back to america for some dumb school dance. Justine says as long as I put on a mask I'll be fine.

"Yes. You do." She answers.

"Why?" 

"Because I said so. Now - dress."

"It's fine, I'll just get Kevin to send me something over." I say, looking through the clothes.

"I'm so going as a mermaid, to match my new blue hair!"

Yeah. She has blue hair.

* * *

"Are you ready?" She asks, finishing off her braids.

I pick up my mask and take a deep breath. "Are you sure I look okay?" I ask, brushing over my black, strapless dress, touching my hair and smacking my lips together.

"Are you- Are you....nervous?" She asks.

"What? No! Let's just go." I say, grabbing her wrist and dragging her out to her car.

"Calm down." She says, hopping into the driver's seat.

"I am calm." I say.

"Mhm."

* * *

We link elbows as we walk to the hall the school booked for the dance.. Obviously..

We open the doors and walk on to the balcony.

Jackie, Samantha and Julia all walk up to Justine and I.

"Hey guys, what are you dressed up as?" I ask.

"Can't you tell?" Jackie begins, "The power puff girls! I'm Bubbles, Sam is Blossom and Julia is Buttercup!"

"Oh, are they the little cartoon girls that like fight crime or something?" I ask.

"Yes." Julia says.

"We're going to go get some drinks. We'll meet you downstairs." Samantha says.

They walk away and Justine nudges me. "You nervous?" She asks.

"How could I not be? What about my accent. He'll know! Or my eyes. My hair. Again, I'm not Hilary Duff." I stress.

"Put on an American accent, don't look into his eyes, lots of people have brown hair, and you're Arabella Smith. Now lets go."

"You know what? Can I just stay up here for a minutes? To..Compose myself." I ask.

Justine sighs, "Fine. I'll meet you down there."

She walks off down the stairs, leaving me on the balcony. I walk to the railing and lean against it, looking out at the sea of students.

"Hey there."

I turn to face Chris, sporting a tight white t-shirt, beige pants and brown boots.

"What are you supposed to be?" I say, forgetting to put on an american accent.

"Arabella..?"

"Who's Arabella?" I ask, with an american accent.

He shakes his head, but squints his eyes, "I thought you were somebody else. Sorry."

"So if you didn't know who I was why would you come and talk to me?" I ask, confused.

"Alright calm down, ever heard of making friends?"