//------------------------------// // Still at the gala/ball/party/whatever // Story: The Crystal Heart Formal // by AppleJTZ //------------------------------// Casually Sugarcoat walked through the gym, past a few dancing and talking students. Though she wasn’t the most party-going person, and even considering this was a school festival, she noticed everything seemed to be a little stiff and formal. There seemed to be a sense of uneasiness around the hall, as if many of the students were holding back or not daring to fully party out – and considering they were under the constant glare of the teachers, including Principal Cinch, this wasn’t a far-fetched assumption. As she took a look around however, there was something else catching her attention, making her steadily more uncomfortable: A lot of boys were looking at her. Many of them smiled towards her as she walked by, some of them awkwardly, some with more confidence, as if they were trying to flirt with her from a distance. Another thing she noticed was a lavender-haired head repeatedly poking out behind other students, following her like a shadow. On the side of the sports hall, Sugarcoat stopped. Without turning her head, she reached her arm into a nearby group of students, and grabbed her pursuer by the neck. “What did you do, Sunny?” she asked as she pulled her out of the crowd, looking her sternly in the eyes. Choking, Sunny freed herself from Sugarcoat’s grasp, rubbing her throat. “W-what do you mean?” Smiling, she tried to make an innocent face. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking-” “Drop the act. Tell me why so many boys are staring at me.” Hands folded behind her back, Sunny avoided looking Sugarcoat in the eyes. “Maybe because you look so good in the dress I picked for you?” Sugarcoat furrowed her eye-brows. “A-and maybe also because, um, I might have texted a few dozen of them that a girl with pigtails is looking for a date tonight.” For a moment, Sugarcoat’s expression was completely blank. Suddenly, every muscle in her face turned up to form a deep, raging frown. “You did WHAT?!” she yelled, clenching her fists. “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” The loud voice of Sugarcoat caused some students to turn their heads. Ducking slightly in front of her, Sunny whispered: “B-but I just wanted to help...” “HELP?!” Sugarcoat shouted, causing some more heads to turn. Realizing the attention she was receiving, Sugarcoat took in a deep breath. As she exhaled it was almost as if steam was blowing out of her mouth, but she regained her calm attitude. “I never asked for help to get a date” she said, anger still ringing in her voice. “I thought I made perfectly clear I wanted to spend a calm evening with myself. Also, I am surprised you would do something silly like that – this kind of hare-brained scheme is more typical for Lemon, Sour or Indigo, but not you.” Flustered Sunny forced a nervous laugh out of herself. “Now come on, don’t be like that. Just give those guys a chance! And who knows – maybe you’ll find the love of your life tonight?” “It’s very unlikely I meet the love of my life by dancing with a bunch of random boys at a school festival.” Folding her hands in front of her chest, Sunny looked at Sugarcoat with big, pleading puppy eyes. “Pleeeeaaaaase, Sugarcoat – for me?” Sugarcoat glared at her friend. Eventually though, her frown fell apart with a sigh. “Fine - I’ll do it.” Beaming in excitement, Sunny looked like she was about to explode with joy. “Alright boys, get in line!” she shouted, clapping her hands. From all around, boys began moving in their direction, grinning eagerly from ear to ear. “This beauty here is all ready for you!” Pushing up her glasses, Sugarcoat rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You sound like you want to sell a horse…” Content, Lemon looked around the sports hall. There was the banquet, offering chips and dips, sandwiches, meat balls, some fancy stuff on toothpicks as well as bowls of punch alongside water, juices and soft drinks. The rest of the hall looked just as great: Lights, decoration, the dance floor – everything was just perfect! Closing her eyes Lemon listened to the music from the DJ for a moment. It a mixture of pop, techno and some hip hop beats – not quite as metal as she would have preferred, but definitely something she could dance to. She relinquished in the feeling of having worked so hard for all of this to come together some more, being somewhat proud of herself. “Alright!” With one hand she grabbed her shoulder, swinging her arm in circles as if she was preparing for a pitch. “Time to get this party-” The sudden noise of something bumping against glass made her turn her head. At the banquet someone had hit a bowl with his elbow. Tumbling around, it slowly slid towards the edge of the table. Inside the punch was sloshing around, increasing the swings as it moved around. Lemon’s eyes widened in horror it danced on the rim. Eventually, the bowl tilted so far over the edge it fell off the table. Panicked Lemon dashed towards the banquet, and leapt for the falling bowl. Her belly gliding over the smooth floor she caught it with her hands. However, as she still had a lot of momentum she kept sliding forward. The bowl tilted towards her, causing its contents to spill right into her face. Lemon closed her eyes as the punch washed over her head, her hair and a part of her dress. Meanwhile she was still sliding forward, passing through the tablecloth of the banquet like through a curtain. Holding the bowl in front of her she hit a leg, pressing the glass hard against her face. While the leg of the table didn’t break it was bent slightly. Above her Lemon felt everything on the table was tumbling. In an instant she rolled on her back, grabbed the underside of the table and tried to stabilize it. Holding her breath she listened for the sounds of the wobbling plates. As she couldn’t heart them anymore she sighed in relief. Still keeping the table in balance with one hand she grabbed the damaged leg with the other. Luckily, nothing was broken, so with some strength Lemon was able to repair it. It was still a little wobbly, but it would probably hold for the night. Turning back on her belly she took the bowl off her face. Only a very small puddle of punch remained at the bottom, the rest clinging to her body. Lemon frowned. They had bought the punch ready in the super market and just mixed a few different sorts together, yet it took her three attempts until she had found the right combination (though she didn’t get why her friends rejected a pineapple-lemon-dragon fruit mix). Now the fruits of her labor were dripping from her hair, some drops landing back inside the bowl as she stared into it. There were a couple more bowls of punch on the banquet, as well as many other drinks. Still, seeing her hard work wasted like this kind of turned her down. Feeling a little disheartened she crawled back out under the table. Just as she was about to pull her head out from the tablecloth she bumped against the edge. Unfortunately for her, at that exact spot someone had put down his glass. As the unstable table tilted the glass fell over, the cool punch pouring over Lemon. The few strands of her hair that were still dry got soaked as well while the rest of the punch flowed down her back. Cool liquid ran under her dress, drenching it further and making the fabric cling to her. Still kneeling under the table Lemon froze, clenching her teeth at the feeling of the punch under her clothes. As the tension in her muscles dissolved she slouched her shoulders, growling in frustration. Standing at the side of the dance floor, Sour was looking for her first victim lucky date of the night. There were quite a lot of people in the hall, some in couples, but most of them seemed to have come without a partner. Sour scanned the available material for a while, until her eyes fell upon a somewhat cute guy. He wasn’t the most handsome or attractive, but to get warmed up, she figured he was acceptable. Sour coughed into her fist, focusing for a moment. Her lips then curled up to a giant smile, showing pretty much all of her teeth, while her eyes sparkled with a happy-go-lucky attitude. She didn’t walk, but rather skipped over to the boy, making sure her skirt was fluttering playfully with every of her steps. As she got in his hearing range she began to chirp a sweet “la-la-la”, just so loud the guy turned his head in her direction. Her smile grew even wider, Sour waving her hand as she approached him. “Oh hello there!” she greeted him. Her voice was so bright it almost hurt the ears, each of her words drenched in a deep layer of sugar and honey. “What’s such a handsome guy like you doing here all on his own?” With an indifferent look on his face, the boy shrugged. “Oh, not much. Just hanging around, enjoying the music, getting some snacks – you know, what you do at a school gala.” “Party!” Both he and Sour looked in surprise as a completely soaked Lemon walked past them towards the toilets. “..Aaaaanyway” Sour went on after that awkward interruption, quickly getting back into her role “I thought maybe you and I could, you know, like, hang around a bit?” she asked while staring at the boy with puppy-eyes. No muscle moved ins his face as he looked neutrally at her. “Sure – got nothing better to do anyway.” Not quite the thrilled response she had been expecting, but as long as he agreed to a dance Sour didn’t mind. “Why thank you! You’re such a kind, sweet gentleman.” “If you say so.” Still wearing a giant smile Sour wrapped her arms around his biceps. “Oh, you’re so strong!” she praised him, feeling his muscles with her fingers while grabbing him more tightly. “T-thanks” he said as they walked towards the dance floor. “Um, y-you’re quite strong yourself…” Quickly Sour shook her head. Oh, not at all! I’m just a poor fragile girl, needing a strong man to protect me. The boy’s face made a grimace of pain. “For a poor fragile girl… you are… crushing my arm!” he coughed, his face becoming red. Realizing she was holding him too tight, Sour let go of his arm. “Oh, um… s-sorry.” With a groan he rubbed his upper arm. “Dang it, right on my aching muscle…” Sour was about to say something like “Your probably got that from working out”. Before she had a chance to speak however a girl standing nearby turned towards them. “You got an aching muscle?” she asked. As he nodded, she touched his shoulder with a smile. “I know a good method against that. Want me to show you?” Still rubbing his arm, the boy pondered for a moment. “Well okay” he eventually replied. As the two of them went off, he said over his shoulder. “Sorry – guess you’ll have to find someone else to hang out with.” Though her eye twitched, Sour’s giant smile remained frozen on her face. “Oh that’s no problem!” she assured him. Once the two of them were out of range she frowned. “Jerk.” On the lookout, Indigo searched for a boy she could approach. Eventually her eyes fell upon a guy near the stage. He was nodding his head to the rhythm of the music, but not really dancing to it. Well, she would change that. Her face radiating confidence she waited until he was roughly looking in her direction. Moving towards him she tried to strut a little, swaying her hips to the rhythm of her steps. If it was the way she walked, her dress or the simple fact she approached him, it didn’t take long until the boy had set his eyes on her. She greeted him with a bold smile. “Yo, buddy. Guess you’re enjoying the view, huh?” Her hips moved in a half-circle, before making a thrust to one side. With her thumb, she pointed behind her. “Say, how about we cut the chit-chat short and just hit it off on the dance floor?” A big grin on his face, the boy nodded. “Sure! Can’t think of a better way to spend this night than dancing with such a cutie…” The smile on Indigo’s face vanished. “CUTIE!?” she yelled. In an instant she was at his face, grabbing his shirt by the collar. “You got billiard balls for eyes? This outfit isn’t cute – it’s BOLD!” The boy broke out in cold sweat. “I-I just meant… y-your face is kinda cute and…” Letting go of his collar Indigo pointed at her frowning face. “My face is toned, okay? I’m an athlete, not some sugary baby doll! You got that?!” Hastily the boy nodded. “Good! Now let’s dance!” Her high heels nearly dug holes into the floor as she stomped off. But as she turned around for her partner, she could just see him he dash away from her, as fast as his legs could run. Blushing, but with her fists shaking in anger, Indigo was just about to chase him and drag him to the dance floor. Before she got to move however he ran straight into another girl. Holding a cup of punch in her hand she spilled the drink on her shirt, which had a rather weird space-ship-logo on it. “Hey! Watch where you are going!” she yelled at him, pulling on the hem of her top. “You’ve ruined my shirt!” Flustered and intimidated, the boy ducked himself. “I-I am sorry!” As she tried to wipe the punch of her shirt, he blushed even harder. “Oh my gosh, and that’s a limited edition too, isn’t it? I’m so, SO sorry!” The girl looked at him in surprise. “You know this is an official ‘Space Patrol’-shirt? And that’s it’s a limited edition with special colour motives and small signatures of all the main actors?” Still startled, the boy nodded. “Well, yeah, I’m a big fan, a-a-and I’ve been trying to get one for years…” The fury on the girl’s face vanished. “I thought I was the only fan at the entire school” she said, smiling. As she calmed down the boy also relaxed and smiled back. “Oh no! There is even a fan-club – though it’s n really official by the school’s terms, of course.” “Really? Can I join?” “Sure. Hey, I think I’ve seen some of the other members around here – should we look for them?” “That’d be great!” As the two of them went off, she said more strictly: “But you’re still gonna pay the cleaning for my shirt!” Frozen on the spot, Indigo watched how her date walked away, and frowned. “Jerk.” Nonchalantly, Sugarcoat looked after the boy who just walked away with tears in his eyes from her. Just as he left another guy in a tuxedo approached her. “Hi!” he said, smiling a little nervously at her. “I heard, um, you are here on you own?” “I am” Sugarcoat replied dryly. She cast a quick glance down his feet. “Your shoes don’t match your clothes.” Confused, the boy looked down, blushing as he noticed he was wearing sneakers to his tuxedo. “Oh... I-I guess I just automatically put on these instead of my-” “Also, there is lettuce between your teeth.” Quickly the boy covered his mouth with his hands. Sugarcoat could see him blush even more behind his fingers. Lowering his head in shame he slowly walked away. She wasn’t alone for long though, for soon the next boy approached her, in a similarly fancy outfit as the one before (except with matching shoes). As they stood in front of each other, Sugarcoat’s glance drifted to his neck. “Your tie is folded incorrectly.” The boy grabbed his neck. “Oh. C-can you fix it for me?” “A girl fixing the guy’s tie? That’s very old-fashioned thinking, and goes against the image of an independent female.” Sweat running down his forehead the boy slowly backed off. As if he was waiting in line for his turn, another one approached her. He was wearing very casual clothing, consisting of a pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt, alongside a straw hat. As he spoke, small drops of spit were flying at her face with each of his words. “Hiya, lady!” he greeted her with a big smile, revealing his braces to be the most likely cause for his humid pronunciation. “I heard y’all ain’t got nobody to keep ye company, so lil’ ol’ me thought why don’t the two of us take it to the dance floor?” Slowly, Sugarcoat wiped the spit from her glasses. “I can’t understand what you’re saying and you spit on me with every word.” Slouching his shoulders, the boy walked away. The next one was another guy in a tuxedo. Instead of a classic black and white combination though, this one sported more colours than Sugarcoat could count, including some she couldn’t even name: His bowtie already was in three completely different hues, one of which she believed to be between deep purple and magenta. This went on with his every other part of his clothing, making Sugarcoat feel like she was staring at a failed rainbow experiment. Even more striking than his clothes however was the hair of the boy, which could best be described as a mixture of a clown wig and a bee hive. Through her glasses, Sugarcoat silently inspected the boy for a moment. After scanning him from top to toe she looked him in the eye. “You’re weird.” With a frown, the boy turned around, leaving Sugarcoat alone. As she awaited the next one, she suddenly felt a hand tightly grabbing her shoulder. Before she knew it she was twisted on the spot, staring at a scowling Sunny. “Sugarcoat, what are you doing?!” Sugarcoat shrugged. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” With a loud thud Sunny’s hand hit her forehead, before proceeding to rub the bridge of her nose. “You promised you would give these guys a chance.” “That’s what I am doing. I’m just telling them what I think of them.” “You’re scaring them off!” Sunny yelled. More calmly, she folded her hands as she asked: “Look, can you just try to spend five minutes with each before you go full power Sugarcoat on them?” Sugarcoat looked at her friend for a moment. Sunny’s furious face having given way to a somewhat more pleading expression, almost as if she was begging. “Alright” Sugarcoat sighed. “If it makes you happy…” After using up almost all of the cleaning clothes at the toilet (and most of the toilet paper), Lemon finally returned to the sports hall. While there were still a few stains on her dress, she had managed to wash the majority of the punch off from her, and got her hair somewhat dry. “Alright!” she said, a wide grin on her face. “Now it’s really time to get this party star-” Her euphoria immediately vanished however as she caught sight of a group of students dancing at the side of the hall. Though their moves were far away from what the punk rocker would consider wild, they were rather close to one of the banners of Crystal Prep that were hanging from the ceiling. It had taken her forever to hang them up, especially to get them straight – and now, as these students danced to the rhythm of the DJ, moving their arms, hips and legs, they would occasionally bump against the banner. Though this didn’t damage its stability, the banner tilted slightly every time it was touched, making the perfectly positioned symbol of their school a little less perfect. “HEY WATCH IT!!” she yelled, running over to the students. “I WASTED A PART OF MY YOUTH TO GET THAT RIGHT!!”