Union Jack

~Gala Pt.1~

~Eight~
Gala// a social occasion

The days leading up to the ball were hectic to say the least. I had decided to go as Elizabeth Bennett from the Jane Austen novel Pride and Prejudice (mostly because I absolutely adored Kiera Knightly). I'd also decided not to go with Tristan to the dance because of an incident involving a girlfriend that he had neglected to tell me about.

Madeline had fitted me for the corset and dress, but I was not allowed to try on the full outfit until the day of the ball because she wanted it to be a "surprise". I didn't doubt her skills, but I was a little nervous about what the finished product would look like.

In other news, all three of my friends had been asked to the ball. Clara by a boy named Elliot from her photography class, Madeline by a sixth year, and Lacey had been asked, not surprisingly by James. Several girls had already announced their costumes but I was keeping mine tightly under wraps out of sheer terror that someone else would do the same thing.

The day seemed to drag on. When I was finally released from my final class of the day I rushed straight to S214.
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  The process of getting ready was an adventure in and of itself and I learned a couple of lessons along the way.
Lesson One: Our suite style bathroom, which seems extremely spacious, can get a little crowded when the four of us are trying to get ready all at once.
Lesson Two: No matter how much she pleads and promises, never EVER let Clara Banks wax your legs. It. Will. Hurt.
Lesson Three: Lacey Campbell is the best hair curler and nail painter of all time and should really consider a job in cosmetics.
Lesson Four: DO NOT, under any circumstance, eat Flaming Hot Cheetos while wearing a Madeline James original. Seriously, she will hit you.

  When I took one last look in the mirror before heading out to attend the party I could not believe what I saw. Madeline had loosely based my costume off of the scene of the ball at Charles Bingley's home in which Darcy asks Lizzie to dance for the first time. My hair was immaculately curled and styled, right down to the smattering of pearls spread throughout. Despite my not being able to breathe, the dress was beautiful. It was ivory white and tapered at my waist. Unlike in the movie, this dress was long sleeved but it was beautifully made. Maddi had outdone herself. "Oh Charlie, you look gorgeous!" Clara exclaimed. She was going as Alice from Alice in Wonderland. Together we exited the room and began our decent of the grand staircase.

The ballroom was beautifully adorned with sheer white curtains surrounding the floor to ceiling windows. They perfectly complimented the gold wallpaper and dark cedar flooring. The glittering chandeliers cast a golden light across the room and  the local band that the school had brought in was already on their second or third song. Everyone was being announced by their character's name, followed by their true name, and then walked down one side of the double spiral staircase. It was like something out of a movie. After the room was alerted of our presence, Clara and I descended the staircase and joined the festivities.

Halfway down the stairs I saw it. The top hat perched above his tousled hair, the dark suit, and the brooding expression that never truly left his face. The character fit him perfectly. My heart stopped and fell to the pit of my stomach. I sent up a small prayer to whoever was listening that he did not come dressed as who I thought he was. "Shit." I breathed.
"What? What's the matter?" Clara asked wide-eyed. "Is it the corset? Can you breathe? Please don't pass out." Clara fussed.
"No." I said quietly tipping my pearl-adorned head to the offense in question.
"Shit." She puffed out.
Jack Wellesley was dressed as Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Jack's wandering green eyes locked on mine and a small smirk turned up at the corner of his mouth knowing that I had connected the dots.
"That smug son of a bitch." I cursed.
"How did he know? Surely he doesn't have the mental capacity to think that up on his own." Clara commented.
"Of course he doesn't. The only people that knew other than you and I were Madeline and Lacy."
"I bet you five quid that I know which one it was." Clara wagered.
"I'm going to kill Madeline." I snarled.
"But why would she want to do this? Why would he?" She inquired as Jack slowly made his way toward us.
"Because he's an arrogant, self-centered, ass." I declared.
"Talking about how wonderful I am my pearl?" Jack asked when he reached us, referencing the nickname Lizzie chose for Sundays (even thought it was clearly a Tuesday).
I rolled my eyes and Clara glowered.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, extremely irritated.
"Absolutely nothing Charlie dear, I just came dressed as my character and would you look at that? Great minds must truly think alike." He said as if he were just now noticing who my costume was supposed to represent.
His suit matched everything I had on to a tee. His cuff links even had pearls on them. Madeline was so dead.
"Would you like to dance Miss. Bennett?" He asked with a smirk.
"I most certainly would not Mr. Darcy." I fired back.

  Before he could utter another word a sixth year dressed as Jane Eyre, whom I recognized from my psychology class, stepped into the middle of our conversation. "Jack," she sighed batting her (fake) eyelashes. "Would you like to dance with me?"
"Caroline!" He smiled at the blonde girl making a big show of acting like he was happy to see her. "Why, of course I will dance with you." She slid her left arm through his right and tugged him to the dance floor. As he was being dragged away with the force of what could only be described as a baby elephant, he winked and mouthed to me "This could be you."
Clara and I stood mouths agape. "Can I kill him?" I asked angrily.
"No."
"Just a little bit?"
"Kill who?" Elliot, Clara's date who was dressed as the Mad Hatter, asked with two cups of punch in his hands.
"I'm going to get a drink." I remarked and bee-lined to the refreshment area.

My ears burned with annoyance as I reached the table. "Do you have anything stronger than Coke?" I asked the bar tender who looked at me as if I had grown a second head. "Coca-Cola it is then." I nodded as he went to pour the beverage.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing trying to drink this early?" Asked a boy who sat at the opposite end of the bar from me. "I don't know who put that frown there, but I personally believe it should go away." His almost black hair was pushed up at the front and his brown eyes shone under the chandelier lights. His tan complexion hinted to Spanish decent, but his accent did not.
"The name's Thomas, Thomas Colton."
"Nice to meet you Thomas." I exchanged.

He wore a dark trench coat, a brown deerstalker cap and carried a fake pipe and magnifying glass. I immediately knew who he was. "Sherlock Holmes!" I said a little too enthusiastically.
"Wow, I never pegged you for a Doyle kind of girl." He chuckled.
"I love Holmes, my dad used to read them to me as a kid." I replied. "What kind of girl did you peg me for?" I reached for my Coke and took a sip.
"Well based on your uncanny resemblance to a certain Bennett sister, I had you pegged as a Austen, Brontë, or Shelly fan."
"All three are wonderful but I also enjoy Doyle, Carroll, and Barrie. They were the stories I grew up to." I replied with a smile.
"So what's with you and the Marquess?" He asked, "Did you plan that?"
I suppose a look of distaste skittered across my face because he began to grin.
"Absolutely not, I have reason to believe that a friend sold me out."
He pulled out his magnifying glass. "Well, what is the evidence? Maybe we can deduce this." He laughed. We joked about the "mystery" back and forth for a few minutes. I found out he was in the Eastern Wing and that he played soccer but was out with a knee injury the day that we defeated them. We argued light heartedly about the game for a few minutes and then his expression became serious.
"Charlie," he began.
"Yes, Thomas."
"Would you mind joining me for a dance?"
I nodded silently and took his arm and he led me to the dance floor. As we were walking on, Jack and Caroline were walking off.

I looked at Jack who was already looking at me with disbelief. I smirked and winked and as I took position with Thomas I mouthed silently to Jack, "This could be you."

The fire that lit in Jacks eyes signaled that my remark had just started a war, and based on the historical track record between our two nations, my odds of winning were looking pretty good.

Bring it on.