Tomorrow Afternoon...
Theodore didn't waste a second. The moment he saw me in the hallway, he walked straight toward me with that calm, unreadable expression he always had.
"Sabrina," he said, stopping in front of me. "Do you have time? We need to discuss the prom auditorium design."
My brain short-circuited a little.
But I nodded anyway. "Y-Yes. Let's go."
He turned and started walking ahead, and of course I followed him like an obedient puppy—except clumsier and far less graceful.
We headed straight to the Design Room, the place Principal Pendhore assigned for the planning. And as expected, the two shadows of my life—Anastasia and Fiona—were already waiting inside.
Anastasia was twirling a pen dramatically. "You're late."
Fiona crossed her arms. "We timed it. You took twelve years."
I squinted at them. "It was literally five minutes."
"Five minutes too long," Anastasia declared.
Both of them noticed Theodore behind me and straightened like guilty students.
"Oh. Good afternoon, President Vior," Fiona said politely.
"Good afternoon," Anastasia echoed, her voice suspiciously innocent.
Theodore nodded. "Thank you both for helping with the prom project."
He said it so formal, so elegant, like he was thanking ambassadors from another country.
I placed my bag down and opened the folder Principal Pendhore gave me—filled with last year's prom photos, auditorium measurements, and the assignment letter.
And yes, I still couldn't say his name without wanting to giggle.
Bonex Afertly Pendhore.
I swear his parents were either creative or chaotic.
"Okay!" I clapped my hands. "The principal wants a prom theme that is elegant, grand, and unforgettable—"
Anastasia snapped her fingers. "Royal Ballroom."
Fiona gasped. "YES. Lots of gold. Chandeliers. Big stage. Long curtains."
Theodore nodded approvingly. "That aligns with the school's traditional aesthetic."
I smiled. "So we're all agreeing to the Royal Ballroom theme?"
Everyone nodded.
Perfect. Step one: successful.
Step two: try not to embarrass myself.
We began planning the auditorium itself.
I spread the huge auditorium blueprint on the table.
"Here," I said, pointing at the stage. "We can make this area bigger for the opening dance."
Theodore leaned closer, his shoulder almost touching mine—but not quite. "And we can add a layered backdrop behind it. Something gold and white."
Anastasia scribbled notes.
Fiona began sketching sample décor.
Everything was going smoothly…
Until I stood up too fast, again, and my foot hooked on the corner of the carpet.
I tilted.
I wobbled.
I nearly kissed the floor.
But before disaster hit—
A hand caught my wrist.
Firm. Steady. Warm.
"Careful," Theodore said softly.
My face instantly caught fire. "S-Sorry. The carpet attacked me."
Anastasia burst out laughing.
Fiona nodded seriously. "That carpet has been plotting since Monday."
Theodore sighed—then surprisingly, he smiled a little. "Just stay still for a moment."
I didn't know how to function after that.
We continued planning
Center aisle lined with faux gold pillars
Hanging crystal chandeliers
Navy blue curtains with gold embroidery
Dance floor in the middle
Flower arrangements around the sides
A grand stage entrance
Anastasia and Fiona were unstoppable.
Theodore kept everything balanced and organized.
And I… tried not to fall again.
After an hour, we had almost a full draft.
"This is good," Theodore said, reviewing the sketches. "We can finalize the decoration layout tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Anastasia asked.
"Yes," he replied. "If everyone is available."
Fiona gave me a sneaky look.
Anastasia elbowed me.
I ignored both of them.
As we cleaned up, Theodore turned to me.
"Sabrina," he said, "you did well today."
My ears instantly turned into heaters.
"I-I just didn't fall on anything important."
He actually chuckled. "That, too."
We stepped out of the design room together, Anastasia and Fiona trailing behind us like two gossip-loving angels of chaos.
"You're walking beside him again," Anastasia whispered.
"Progress," Fiona whispered louder.
I wanted the floor to swallow me—but at the same time, a soft, unfamiliar warmth sat quietly in my chest.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
This project wouldn't be so bad after all.
As we walked down the hallway, the late morning sun filtered through the windows, casting long light patterns on the floor. The whole school was buzzing—students heading to their classes, clubs setting up posters, teachers rushing between rooms.
But somehow, everything felt quieter around us.
Theodore walked beside me with that calm, steady pace of his, hands in his pockets, eyes forward like nothing ever surprises him. Meanwhile, my brain was basically flipping tables inside my skull.
Anastasia and Fiona followed close behind, whispering at a volume they thought was subtle.
"He caught her," Anastasia whispered.
"He literally held her wrist," Fiona whispered back.
"That's basically romance in slow motion—"
"SHH." I hissed, glancing back.
They grinned like they'd been caught stealing cookies.
We reached the main hallway intersection, where everyone usually splits off to go to their different buildings. Theodore slowed down and faced me.
"I'll finalize the digital layout tonight," he said. "Can I send you the draft once it's ready?"
"M-Me?" I pointed at myself like he asked if I could run for president.
"Yes. You're the lead for the theme, right?"
Oh. Right.
"Yes. Yes, you can send it. Anytime. I mean—not past midnight. Or past three. Or—"
Anastasia quietly slapped her own forehead behind me.
Fiona sighed dramatically.
But Theodore… just nodded, unbothered.
"Understood. I'll message you before evening."
Before I could reply, a group of students passed by and called out to him:
"President Vior! Are we still having the council briefing later?"
"Yes. At three," he answered instantly.
"Copy, sir!"
He turned back to me with a gentler tone.
"See you tomorrow, Sabrina."
And just like that, he walked away—composed, elegant, unbothered, leaving me standing there like I just got hit by a flying textbook of emotions.
Anastasia slipped beside me. "Girl… did you breathe at all?"
Fiona nodded. "Your soul left your body at least twice."
"I'm fine," I insisted.
They exchanged a look that translated to: She is absolutely not fine.
We started heading to our next class, and my mind drifted again—this time not to panic, but to something warm.
Theodore's hand on my wrist.
His quiet chuckle.
His smile.
This prom project… might be the beginning of something unexpected.
Something I wasn't prepared for.
But maybe… I wanted to be.