(Ruby's POV)
If someone told me a few weeks ago that I'd be attending the biggest school costume party of the year—and not just attending, but being seen—I would've laughed in their face. Or choked on my tea. Most likely both.
But here I was.
Sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by discarded outfits, glittery headbands, a curling iron I didn't know how to use, and Felix dramatically flopping across my bed like a heartbroken soap opera star.
"Why do you even own this much beige?" he groaned, holding up yet another boring sweatshirt. "You dress like you're afraid of being noticed. It's an offense to fashion—and also to my eyeballs."
Becky, ever the patient saint, was thumbing through a Pinterest board on her phone, her thumb stopping on a sleek, modern Cinderella look. She looked up at me with a determined glint in her eye.
"We're doing this," she said. "You're going to be the kind of Cinderella that makes everyone do a double take. Including Sam."
My heart did that stupid skipping thing again. Sam.
She hadn't even said she'd be coming. But just the idea of maybe seeing her there was enough to make my stomach twist like a wet towel.
"I don't know, guys," I muttered. "It's not even my scene. People like me don't go to these things."
"Correction," Felix said, sitting upright with a flourish. "People like the old you don't go. But the new you? The brave, glowy, accidentally-caught-the-eye-of-Sam-Walker you? She's going. She's shining. And she's doing it in heels."
Becky laughed.
Two hours, three outfit changes, and one minor curling iron injury later, I stood in front of the mirror.
Becky had gone light on the makeup—just a little shimmer on the eyes, some gloss on the lips, and a bit of blush. Felix had chosen the outfit: a soft blue satin dress with silver embroidery along the hem, paired with a sheer capelet that shimmered every time I moved. I looked like… a version of myself I didn't recognize.
"Holy crap," Felix said behind me, genuinely awed. "You're beautiful."
Becky came up beside him, grinning ear to ear. "No one's ready for this. Especially not her."
"Her?" I asked.
Becky rolled her eyes. "You know who."
My chest tightened.
"Also," Felix said dramatically, rummaging through a box, "you are wearing these." He pulled out a delicate pair of silver heels.
"What? No way. I can barely survive flat shoes without tripping."
"Perfect," he said. "We're going full fairytale here. Trip into your destiny."
The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived. The school auditorium had been transformed with hanging lights, a DIY chandelier made of CDs, and a dance floor that glowed under our feet.
Students milled about in all kinds of costumes—from classic fairytale to chaotic homemade. Music pulsed through the speakers, and the air smelled like glitter hairspray and fruit punch.
I was clutching Becky's arm like a lifeline.
"Breathe," she whispered. "You look like you're about to flee."
"I might."
"If you do, I'll drag you back. Just saying."
"Seconded," Felix said, already waving at someone across the room in a full pirate costume.
We moved through the crowd slowly. People turned to look. A few whispered. Someone even stopped Becky to ask, "Who's your friend in the Cinderella get-up?"
I almost tripped.
Literally.
The heel caught on the edge of the floor, and I stumbled forward with a panicked yelp.
Before I could faceplant into a punch bowl, a warm hand caught my elbow, steadying me.
"Whoa there," Sam said, suddenly beside me. "You good?"
I froze. My brain exploded. I nodded. Maybe. Possibly.
She looked at my shoes, then back at me. "Guess I'll have to stick close, just in case you trip again."
My mouth opened. Nothing came out. She smiled.
And didn't let go.
She didn't approach at first. She just… watched. Like she was trying to figure out who I was underneath all the satin.
I tried not to stare back. Failed. Looked away. Looked back.
"You look… really nice," she said. "Like a painting."
My heart went absolutely feral.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
We stood there for a moment, just the two of us in a room full of noise. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to say more but didn't know how.
"You wanna dance?" she asked suddenly.
My brain short-circuited.
"I mean—" she scratched the back of her neck. "It's fine if you don't want to. It's loud. And weird. And—"
"Yes."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"Yes," I said again. "Let's dance."
We didn't dance well.
We kind of just swayed awkwardly, avoiding eye contact and laughing whenever someone bumped into us.
But then a slow song started.
And she reached for my hand.
She didn't say anything. Didn't ask.
Just took my hand in hers and pulled me a little closer.
I looked up.
Her eyes were shining. Not from the lights. Just… shining.
And I knew in that moment—this was real.
Not just a letter. Not just a fantasy.
Her. Me. This.
Real.
Later that night, as we sat on the edge of the stage with our shoes kicked off and paper cups of soda in our hands, Felix and Becky found us again.
"You two looked so romantic," Felix teased. "The slow dance? Come on. That was textbook swoon."
"Shut up," I muttered, hiding my face.
Becky grinned. "I'm proud of you."
I looked at all three of them.
My best friends. My maybe-something-more.
And I felt like I belonged.
Not just in the room.
But in the moment.
That night, when I got home, I didn't even bother changing out of the dress before collapsing into bed.
I stared at the ceiling, replaying everything.
The lights. The music. Her hand in mine. Her hand around my arm, holding me steady.
This is happening, I whispered to myself.
And for the first time ever, it didn't feel like a daydream.
[End of Chapter 21]
Turns out, the glass Heels weren't needed. I just had to stop hiding.