The Foxfire Ball

The Day Before the Ball

A few days after Sophie's excruciatingly exhausting midterm session (plus the midterm-gift-giving-celebration-whatchamacallit...which was fun), the day before the ball arrived.  Now, this day, this day especially, was torture.  You know why?  Well of course you don't!  Because I haven't even told you yet.  Today, was dancing lessons.

     Sophie was walking through the hall when Biana had asked her, "Sophie, are you excited for today's dancing lessons?"  Sophie gasped but then fell silent, paling at an extremely fast rate.  With a very squeaky squeak, she said (squeaked), "Um, since when do we have DANCING LESSONS?" Her friend grinned, amused.  "Since we're having a ball, I suppose.  Apparently, I mean from what I heard from Marella, just in case we don't know how to dance,  the staff wants us to practice all day today because of it."  If it was possible, Sophie paled even more, giving her skin a ghostly glow. 

     Biana began to feel a little worried for her friend.  "Uh...Sophie, are you okay?"  Sophie forced a grin on her face and promised she was okay before unconvincingly scurrying off to her classes.  Er, dance lessons.

    It was a Thursday, which meant P.E. was first period.  Unfortunately do to the very unfortunate turn of events, the prodigies of Foxfire would be having P.E. the whole day.  Their regular session for the first hour.  The explaining of dancing the next half hour.  The break.  The practice for the next hour.  The lunch break ("Woo-hoo!").  And finally, study hall (which was pretty useless since they didn't have any homework. 

     Sir Harding walked into the coliseum-arena-like gymnasium and frowned slightly.  "He seems quite irritated."  Sophie heard a girl whisper to her friend.  "I'm guessing he doesn't like teaching people how to dance all day."  The girl whispered back.  The girls were right, because the first five minutes of their class was Sir Harding's launching of a very unusual rant about how much he thought dancing lessons were a pain in the rear-end. 

     "Now to my great pleasure," Sir Harding started again, sounding quite pleased (and dramatic).  "The Foxfire staff has allowed me to still have you maintain your own physical education.  So the first 15 minutes of first period will be running.  The remaining 45 minutes will be...A SPLOTCHING COMPETITION!!" 

     Cheers erupted while Dex slouched away into a corner.  

*     *     *     *     *   

     Sophie and Dex were crouched over a bench, breathing heavily.  Due to Sophie's raw telekinetic powers, she managed to beat a lot of stronger, super old kids.  She managed to get to a sixth year but she lost her concentration and ended up getting splotched bright purple on her side.  Fitz, again, had won the splotching competition (not surprising) and was now sitting down, his posture as straight as a ruler holding the splotching trophy in his hand, the "P" on it agleam. 

     Sir Harding had managed to herd the very sweaty and breathless prodigies to a corner in the coliseum and said, "Now, I want you all to change and take a shower if you really need one.  Dancing requires a lot of...close touch, if you'd like to put it that way.  So, go!  Go change and wash down your disgustingness!"  

    A cool wave of coldness washed over Sophie's face as she tried to rid her sweaty appearance of its clammy sheen.  She was still in her surprisingly comfy P.E. clothes (gray cotton t-shirt with Foxfire logo plus ridiculously sweaty shorts) and had to change into her dorky - er, refined uniform. 

     As much as she hated to admit it, Sophie did in fact care about who would be her partner for her to dance with.  So she checked to make sure that her tie aligned with her blouse's collar and amber vest, her patterned skirt perfectly pleated and her extra dorky (don't even bother with the refined) cape that barely brushed the back of her knees.  Tying her hair up for a quick up-do, Sophie let a few blond curls fall and frame her face. 

     Rushing out the door, Sophie just had to bump into Fitz headfirst.  "Sorry, Fitz." she apologized, blushing slightly and trying to regain her balance.  Fitz laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her and Sophie could feel the glares of girls burning the back of her head.  She shuddered before gaving a small smile. 

      "Thanks, Fitz."

     He smiled back.  "No problem." 

     So they both headed to class. 

     After a long and overly detailed explanation about the proper ways of dancing to a waltz, Sir Harding had the prodigies of Foxfire start practicing.  "Now," he boomed over the excited chatter (mostly from the girls).  "I don't see any reason why you shouldn't practice with your partner for the ball, so would I kindly ask the crowd of girls surrounding Mr. Vacker to go find your own partners?  And may I ask the actual partner of Fitz Vacker to find him and give us an example on graceful dancing, please." 

     Sophie had to bite back her, "WHY US?!?!" exclamation and quickly make her way to Fitz, her heart skipping a beat when she met his eyes.  If she wanted to make a good example she had to do it, so she held her head high and straightened her posture, ignoring the glowers of some of the other girls in the arena. 

     She stepped in front of Fitz and Fitz, seeing his awesome advantage to charm his partner, grasped her hand and placed a sweet kiss on it.  "Milady," he offered, grinning.  Sophie laughed, her heart fluttering stupidly and she felt the glares behind her harden. 

     Fitz and Sophie both stepped in front of the whole class and Fitz laid his hand on Sophie's waist, and she laid her slender fingers on his upper arm.  They both laced their hands together and (out of basically no where) the striking melody of a waltzing tune began.  They started to dance. 

     "This feels so embarrassing."  Sophie mumbled, her eyes straying to the floor, a soft red crawling up her cheeks.  If it weren't for their current situation, Sophie would've pulled out an eyelash.  Fitz chuckled, flashing his pearly white teeth.  "I know right?"  Sophie nodded and went back to concentrating on not stepping on Fitz's toes. 

     As much as she hated to admit it, dancing did feel nice.  How the air seemed to gently whiz past her, how she could allow herself to sway rhythmically, Fitz's aquamarine eyes staring back at her own warm hazel ones.  It felt so relaxing to her and time seemed to pass before they both realized that the waltz had ended (along with the music that magically came out of no where).  Releasing their significant other, they both stepped forward and dipped elaborate curtsies/bows. 

     The class went wild.  Most of the students were either genuinely clapping, jumping in their spots or giving hoots of joy.  While the remaining students (mainly the extremely envious girls whose glares couldn't get any worse), booed and jeered at Sophie.  Then all of a sudden, Biana jumped from her spot of view and yelled, "AREN'T THEY THE PERFECT COUPLE?!" 

     Sir Harding stared at Biana up and down and barked, "That will do, Miss Vacker!  I would have appreciated it if you hadn't said that." 

     Embarrassed with dark red blushes, Fitz, Sophie and Biana slunk back into the crowd. 

     And that was how Sophie's day went. 

A.N: Aww, this story is almost done!  Only a few more chapters to go (I think maybe 2-3, I'll make sure they're EXTRA long...).  So, vote, comment, follow, blah blah blah if you enjoyed this story (in its current state) and I hope to hear from you fellow Wattpad people soon!

Oh!  And Happy Early Halloween (and if you don't celebrate it, well then, Happy Random Day to you by me!)! 

Word Count: 1,324 words (I think I just broke my own record!!!)!!  

Quiz: What is the FULL name of Edaline and Grady's deceased daughter? 

~Sakura