(Ruby's POV)
If anyone had told me this costume party would be the most emotionally confusing night of my life, I would've stayed home in my pajama shorts and pretended I had a fever.
But no.
There I was — in satin and heels, glitter still in my lashes, standing beneath the golden fairy lights of our transformed auditorium while someone from the art club DJ'd an oddly emotional remix of "Dancing Queen."
I wasn't supposed to be the kind of girl who got noticed. But apparently… tonight, I was.
"You look unreal," someone whispered behind me.
I turned just slightly — enough to see two seniors I'd never spoken to before elbowing each other as they stared at me like I'd just walked out of a fashion editorial.
"She's in my history elective," one of them added. "Can't believe I never noticed her before."
My cheeks flamed. I smiled politely, took a slow step back, and turned toward Becky — only to find her grinning like she was watching her favorite rom-com unfold in real time.
"They're literally drooling," she said, nudging me. "Look at you, causing traffic."
"I'm not," I said, shaking my head. "They're just being nice."
Felix, nearby, twirled with someone in a pirate outfit and shouted across the room, "Don't let her lie to you! She's devastating tonight. There's a glitter trail behind her like fairy dust!"
"Felix, stop!" I hissed.
But it was too late. The eyes kept coming. Compliments started floating my way like confetti. A junior girl asked if she could take a photo with me "for costume inspo." A senior guy asked if I was modeling for some magazine. One of the student council boys — who had never spoken to me before — leaned in too close and asked what perfume I was wearing.
I wanted to vanish.
And then it happened.
A boy I didn't recognize — definitely younger, maybe a freshman — stopped me near the drink table. He had a bright, hopeful smile and awkwardly straightened vampire fangs. Cute, if I hadn't been seconds away from losing circulation in my toes thanks to the heels.
"Hey," he said, nervous and a little flushed. "I—I just wanted to say, you look… amazing."
"Oh," I said, blinking. "Thank you."
"Would it be weird if I asked for your number?" he blurted.
I froze.
And then—heat on the back of my neck. A familiar presence. Sam.
Before I could respond, her hand wrapped gently but firmly around my wrist.
"She's with me," Sam said calmly, but her tone made the air between us crackle.
The boy blinked, confused. "Oh—I didn't know—"
"It's okay," I said quickly, trying to ease the awkwardness. "I—uh—thanks, though."
Sam didn't wait for more.
She turned, still holding my wrist, and guided me through the crowd like she was Moses parting the Red Sea.
We didn't stop until we were near the back corner, by the wall of photo props and a poorly cut paper castle.
I looked up at her.
"You okay?" she asked, letting go of my wrist slowly. "Did he make you uncomfortable?"
"No! I mean—yes. I mean, not really. He was nice. Just—uh—surprised."
Sam's jaw tightened. "People don't get just to walk up and ask for you like that."
My heart jumped.
"It's not a market."
"…Are you okay?" I asked. "You look…"
She exhaled sharply. "Sorry. I just. I didn't like that."
I swallowed.
Sam Walker… looked jealous.
Later, I found Becky alone by the snack bar, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
"What's up?" I asked.
She nodded toward the dance floor.
Felix.
Spinning. Laughing. Surrounded by three girls in matching cat ears.
"He's too friendly," she muttered.
"Yeah," I said. "Social butterfly."
"A butterfly that flirts."
I grinned. "Jealous?"
"No."
"Becky…"
"…Fine. Maybe."
She sighed, defeated.
"Don't worry," I said, nudging her. "He only flutters. He always comes back to the same flower."
Becky raised an eyebrow. "Did you just compare me to a flower?"
"Shut up," I muttered.
We both laughed.
The night flew by in a blur of glitter, music, and madness. We danced, sang terribly off-key, posed with cardboard swords, and even watched Alex attempt breakdancing and nearly take down a disco ball.
But then the lights dimmed, and the mic squealed.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer boomed, "it's time for the annual Runway Showdown!"
Everyone screamed.
Each year, a few selected students walked the makeshift runway. At the end, the audience gave out heart stickers to vote for their favorite — the one with the most hearts won the night.
As expected, Alex strutted down the runway like a practiced model. He was dressed as some fantasy prince — white tunic, golden cuffs, smug smile. He winked at the crowd. They lost it.
Sam was standing near me, arms folded, not even clapping.
After a few other students, it was finally Sam Turn. I was waiting for her walk on every year, but this year, for some reason, it felt different.
Sam changed her outfit for Ramp.
Then came the reigning queen, Sam.
In a blood-red corset gown and vampire fangs, she owned the stage. People screamed her name like she was a celebrity. She got hearts before she even reached the end.
"She looks great," I murmured.
"She knows how to own the stage," Felix muttered.
I bit my cheek to hide a smile.
They called the winners — Alex and Campus Queen Sam, of course.
Everyone clapped.
Everyone was engaged in how perfect they both looked, but I didn't clap at that,
Because I don't know… something inside me sank. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Like they'd always belonged. And suddenly I felt like a background character again.
I looked down at my empty hands.
I had gotten a few heart stickers, but I felt is it really belonged to me or they were accidentally given to me.
"Hey," Sam said beside me.
I turned.
She was holding something between her fingers.
A single red heart sticker.
She didn't say anything.
Just gently reached out… and placed it on the side of my neck.
Right under my jaw.
Like a silent promise.
"That's mine," she said quietly.
My breath hitched.
The rest of the night blurred.
Felix came bounding over, crown askew, and declared he'd accidentally entered the costume contest and won "Most Committed Pirate." Becky rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now. Tension forgotten.
People started playing music again. Someone had connected their phone to the speakers and blasted 2000s throwbacks. Suddenly, everyone was dancing like their lives depended on it.
Even Sam.
She pulled me into a group dance.
We jumped, laughed, twirled. I even kicked off my heels at one point and felt the floor under my bare feet.
Becky and Felix went full chaos mode — doing dramatic dips and pretending to tango like spies at a ball.
We were ridiculous.
We were sweaty.
We were alive.
And for the first time in years, I didn't feel invisible.
I felt seen.
Wanted.
And maybe… loved.
When the party finally died down, Sam walked with me toward the exit.
"Your hair's all frizzy," she said, brushing a strand behind my ear.
"It's the humidity," I muttered.
"I like it."
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
"I'm glad you came," she said.
"You mean, instead of hiding in my room with Netflix?"
"Exactly."
I grinned. "Thanks for… saving me. From the freshman vampire."
She laughed.
"I'll always save you from freshman vampires."
That night, I peeled off the sticker from my neck and stuck it inside the back cover of my sketchbook.
It looked silly there. Red. Lopsided.
But it meant everything.
Sam had given it to me.
Not because I asked.
Not because I needed it.
But because she saw me.
And I was starting to believe… maybe, just maybe…
I wasn't dreaming anymore.
[End of Chapter 22]
She gave me a heart, and it didn't come with conditions. Just warmth. Just her.