Spring Meadow

Gates of Hell

I looked down, an embarrassed blush creeping up on my face. I could feel him coming closer. I looked up again to see his hand held out to me; he was asking for a dance. I knew what my role was in this. You see, elegant parties such as this are never planned. They're just gone over millions of times so that every spontaneous interaction and gesture went off without a hitch. So, I did what was gone over countless times. I took his hand.

You would think that our parents would have figured we knew each other, being in the same class and all. Yet, for some reason, they never got involved in our lives to realize we went to the same school from what I could gather. They had decided that they wanted this meeting to be our first. So, we had never really danced together. I was thankful for the fact he was actually good dancer. Unlike some of the boys I had to dance with at other extravagant parties, he was easy to follow. We waltz around the room, other couples joining us eventually.

I felt as if someone was boring holes into my head. I turned to see my mother glaring at me behind a pleasant smile. To anyone else, she probably looked like a loving mother who was looking at her daughter with pride. I know different. About this time I realized I had been looking at the floor the entire time, which was probably the reason for my mom's glaring. I decided to appease her and look up.

We have a problem.

Beautiful amber eyes met mine and I wanted to melt. He, however, definitely seemed like he had better things to do. He looked at me with what almost seemed like hatred. I forced myself not to look back down, or let my brow furrow in worry.

When two people are in an arranged marriage, one of three things can happen. Either both are not in love with each other, leading to either a mutual respect for the rest of their lives or a mutual not caring. Then, there is situation number two. I call this one the Blessing of Lady Luck. It is when you are lucky enough to be in love with each other. Finally, you have Satan's cruel excuse for a practical joke. One of the pair loves the other, while the other does not return such feelings. For the person in love, the marriage only ends in misery. Either the person in love gets lucky and their partner makes it blatantly clear that they harbor no feelings for them, usually with a grand show of mistresses, or the partner will be polite, respectful, and kind leaving the person in love pathetically clinging onto false hopes all while falling deeper and deeper in love. With the way things were going, it seemed I was going to be one of the lucky ones. Yay.

I felt his arms drop and I noticed the song had ended. I guess he had no intention of being with me longer than what was required. I felt a little sad. Was I that appalling?

The rest of the party was pretty uneventful. It was a blur of polite congratulations and my mother trying to get me and Michael to act more like a couple, failing gracefully like only she can do.

We dismissed each guest at the end. A confident smile on the faces of my parents along with Michael and his own parents. A bashful smile on my face. As the last guest departed and the doors closed, my mother turned to me and Michael full of rage.

"We are not expecting you two to be a loving couple but we are expecting you to at least pretend."

"But...," Michael started as I tried to resist the urge to look away from their accusing glares.

Mrs. Grean put up a hand to quiet her son. "Mrs. Valendia is correct. If you cannot have the decency to pretend then we will simply have to make you until you become capable of completing the simple task yourself."

Mr. Grean nodded in agreement. "What school do you attend, Amber?"

I saw Michael turn away obviously as annoyed as I was by the question, but he had no shame in showing what I was trying to hide.

I put a polite smile on my face as I began, "Actually, Mr. Grean..."

"We go to the same school. For God's sake, we shared about half our classes."

"Perfect," said my father, clearly offended by Michael's tone, "Then you will go to and from school together."

My mother looked thoughtful. "Also, you will have to see each other outside of school activities every Friday," she added, smiling to herself.

"So you are forcing us to go on dates?" Michael looked at them in disbelief.

"Yes," my mother said without the slightest hesitation, "Do you understand?"

"Of course," I answered, nodding my head. What other answer was there?

"Why...," Michael protested.

"This is not up for debate," scolded his mother, "Now, Michael, do you understand?"

He paused as one last small act of defiance. "Yes, I understand."

This was going to be hell, wasn't it?