Chapter Text
Lillian was surprised to find that they made straightjackets with frills and petticoats. She turned the dress over with a frown.
“The teachers are asking me about you, Lily,” Michelle said. “They’re starting to get a little bit suspicious about your absences.”
“Then they’ll just have to keep asking,” Lillian sunk into her chair. Michelle looked at the floor, and back to Lillian again.
“Well, maybe—”
“You know, this whole thing is getting ridiculous anyways. You would think five excused absences, two detentions, and one fake death would be enough for them to give up!” Lillian stood up from her chair.
“But nooooo, ‘everyone has to go’ and ‘it’s good for you to have fun every once in a while.’ Whose idea was it to make ‘fun’ mandatory? If I had it my way, ‘fun’ would be my fist in Headmaster’s—”
“Lily!” Michelle cut her off. “It’s not that bad, can’t you just go one day without threatening a school official?”
“It would be hard.” She crossed her arms.
“Pleeeeeease just show up to one meeting? The more you skip, the more the teachers pawn off onto me,” Michelle asked.
“We’ll see,” Lillian scowled. In her mind gears were turning, escape plans and alibis clicking into place. This week was the first week in her life she was actually happy to get called into work.
“Do you like the dress?” Michelle asked. She picked out the outfit the last time Lillian went to work.
“No way I’m going. I’ll just die or something,” Lillian huffed.
“It’s only a dance!” Michelle said. “If the school wants you to stand in a loud room with all your classmates for a few hours, so what? It’s not the worst thing they could do. It’s not even an exam, or a— are you even listening?”
Lillian scribbled into her notebook, then tore out the page neatly and passed it to Michelle. “Can you pass this to Mrs. Mendoza? I think I have a schedule conflict, it’s written out here.”
“You’re scheduled to catch the flu on Friday?” Michelle held the note taut in her hands.
“Michelle—”
“Lily!”
“What?!” Lillian dragged her hands down her face.
“Can’t you just go along with this? You know the teachers will blame me if you’re not there!” Michelle said, exasperated. She threw the balled-up note at Lillian’s head.
“Ugh, fine, but I’m not dancing,” Lillian conceded. She fished the note out of her hair. “What do people even do at these sorts of things?”
“I don’t know, Lily, hang out?” Michelle replied.
A long silence hung over the room. “I’ll go try on the dress,” Lillian sighed. She went to the bathroom to change.
The dress Michelle picked out was… fine, really. It was tight, but still fit; The blue and white fabric looked nice on her and it even had pockets. She couldn’t exactly leave school to go dress shopping—most girls picked their outfits from the closet the school kept for these kinds of events. Given how long Lillian avoided it, it was impressive Michelle found anything other than odd sizes.
What bothered Lillian was the vague, miserable quality the dress flaunted. As if it wasn’t time or use that pulled at the threads and loosened the seams, but rather the whole thing lacked the will to persevere and hold together. Lillian couldn’t imagine anyone—much less her—smiling in that dress.
It was not a dress to make Lillian look beautiful. It was just another uniform, she reminded herself. It was another mask to wear, a costume to help her fit in with everyone pretending to be happy on a big stage. The whole ‘dance’ was a sham, she thought, a small charade to make living in a birdcage seem less bad.
When Lillian showed the dress to Michelle, she really didn’t mean to be abrasive. But she couldn’t quite hide the frown tugging at her lips, and she saw it reflected on Michelle’s face. Lillian winced as Michelle turned away and found some homework to busy herself with. She changed out of the dress without a word and did the same. There was very little talk of the dresses and dancing for the next couple of days.
The day of the dance found Lillian in bed at noon. She was practically feverish from staying under the covers for so long, and in another thousand years or so maybe she would become one with the mattress. Maybe that was God’s plan for her. Mattress Lillian.
She was tired from work—her sheets smelled like dust and sweat and her head was entirely too groggy to even consider laundry. She heard the door open and close as Michelle left, and pulled her blanket up to her chin. When Michelle came back, she pretended to be asleep still. Once, Lillian opened her eyes and saw the light streaming through their window at a heavy slant, the afternoon already creeping by.
Eventually Michelle dragged Lillian out of bed, the other girl’s arms looped under hers, Lillian barely managing to get her feet underneath her in her sleepiness. The blood rushed to her head as she stood up, the air cold on her skin. Lillian ran her fingers through her hair with a long sigh. Michelle told her it was almost time to leave. 30 more minutes? 40? Lillian didn’t remember. She shuffled over to her closet, trying her best to blink the crust out of her eyes.
“You should shower,” Michelle said. “Even if you don’t have time to wash her hair.”
Michelle didn’t look at Lillian while she was talking. She wondered if Michelle had been waiting to say that.
“Yeah, probably,” Lillian yawned. She grabbed a towel out of the closet, throwing it over her shoulder. At least the showers would be empty this time of day—she wanted to keep the number of people she interacted with to a minimum. She couldn’t be a shut-in all day if she didn’t start early: Lillian had already committed all morning and afternoon to skipping, sleeping, and general delinquency, so she couldn’t throw that away now.
As Lillian walked down the hallway, she felt all too many eyes on her. Girls lined each side of the hall, waiting outside doors. She certainly felt like she stood out, walking around in pajamas, towel in hand. Was that why she felt like they were watching her? She had to roll her eyes. She didn’t realize it was a crime to dress like she didn’t care on the day of all days, but regardless she wouldn’t be straightening her hair or putting concealer over her eye bags. Putting on the godforsaken dress was more than enough for her.
Once she got to the showers, Lillian was pleased to find the other girls hadn’t used all the hot water, and she washed off the general stink of work fairly quickly. She changed back into her pajamas and waited for a while inside the bathroom, listening for the voices outside to die down, idly brushing out the tangles from her hair. The noise in the hallway never went away, though, and Lillian realized she was out of time once the last knot was brushed out of her hair. She tried her best to ignore the staring as she walked back to her room, though it felt like there were even more people outside than before.
She waved to Michelle as she came in. The dress hung, waiting as ever, from a sagging hanger in the closet—it was surely the heaviest piece of clothing she had ever worn. She matched it with an equally heavy frown as she tugged the collar off the hanger. While she changed into the monstrosity, she could feel the restedness she had earned from her many hours sleeping wash away: she waved it goodbye as she tied the bow that was supposed to go around her waist.
When Lillian looked in the mirror, she felt like an old vintage doll that should’ve stayed in the attic. She brushed off the ancient sleeves and reminded herself there was nothing new about this. Just another night of pretending to be happy and sane in front of teachers, and pretending to get along with the classmates she ran into along the way. Nothing she couldn’t handle. She took a deep breath—as much as she could in the dress—and managed not to squirm as she waited for Michelle.
Her friend was putting much more effort into her appearance than she was (which was to say, any effort at all.) Lillian wasn’t even sure what kind of makeup Michelle was doing, but effort was effort. Michelle held a tiny brush tight in her hand, too concentrated to see Lillian staring. She couldn’t tell what kind of face Michelle was making. Was she struggling? Or was that just how one puts on makeup? It wasn’t like Lillian had much experience in that department: there wasn’t any point of wearing makeup to work, and she certainly wasn’t waking up early for classes just to look pretty. She wondered if that was the sort of thing girls her age were supposed to know. Michelle put the brush down and took a closer look at her face—Lillian tapped her fingers on her elbow.
“I’m ready to go if you are!” She said cheerfully.
Lillian nodded and pulled the door open with a swing. It was time to get it all over with. Michelle walked through and Lillian followed the best she could. The walls swelled with people, the air warm from the growing crowd. Lillian grabbed Michelle’s arm and pulled close, careful not to get separated by the masses. Lillian brushed shoulders with more mindless, happy drones than she cared to.
She supposed it made sense some of the girls were excited: not all of them shared her distaste for loud music and school admins, but she was taken aback by the scenes they passed in the hallway. Group after group of girls were squealing and complimenting each other’s outfits, helping each other with hair and makeup—it seemed like a big deal. Lillian was nowhere near the dance floor and already her feet felt heavy. Did everyone else really buy into this sham?
Lillian’s hand still tight around Michelle’s arm, the girls eventually made their way to the door. As they pushed through, they were met with a line of buses waiting.
“Buses?” Lillian wondered out loud.
“Lily, did you not pay attention to anything?” Michelle asked. “The dance isn’t here, we’re leaving campus.”
“We are?!” Lillian’s head snapped up. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”
“There’s going to be security, it’s not like you can just sneak out-”
“How much security?” Lillian surveyed the buses closely.
“Don’t even think about it!” Michelle tugged on her sleeve. “Did you already forget what we talked about?”
Lillian definitely remembered hoping Michelle had forgotten that. She sighed.
“So, are we assigned seats, or…” Lillian asked, her tone no longer that of an aspiring escapee.
“I figured it all out, just follow me.” Michelle said. Lillian saw a scowl on her face.
The two boys stood out against the industrial backdrop of the alleyway. To the few passersby who saw them, it seemed they were much too young to be in work uniforms.
“Hiroki, I’m trusting you a lot by telling you this information…” Eden began, looking over his shoulder before continuing. “Repeat back to me everything I just said. What is our mission?”
“To recover old death angel training records from the Order of Holy Librarians.”
“Why?”
“Because it’ll make our training more efficient by a factor of twelve.”
“Right, perfect. Why are we undercover?”
“So that the evil Librarians do not learn of our civilian identities.”
“And what is our cover story?”
“We’re students, who got lost on the way to the ballroom. We’re actually here for the school dance in the same building, and have no association to the classified record exchange happening in the back parlor.”
“Great, keep that up and you’ll be moving up the ranks in no time, friend!” Eden informed Hiroki. He pulled out his phone. “One issue though: I just heard from Amaliel that our intel is wrong. The record exchange is happening inside the ballroom, we’ll have to go there instead.”
“Why on earth would they be in the ballroom?” Hiroki raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not sure, maybe Lillian would know. She’ll meet us there,” Eden said. “Oh, and by the way, you can’t call me Eden once we’re inside the building. We’ll have to use codenames.”
“Of course, this is a serious assignment. What should I call you?”
“Let’s see…” Eden hadn’t thought this far ahead. “Call me Edith. Edith Dahlma’am. That should work.”
Hiroki squinted. “But Edith is a girl’s name?”
“Oh Hiroki, you misunderstand. We have to blend in, remember? The school dance at this venue is an all-girls school,” Eden explained.
“Oh, like Lillian’s school?”
“Yes, exactly like Lillian’s school!” Eden said. “You’re picking this up very quickly.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Hiroki said. “You can call me… Hiroko, I suppose. Won’t we need dresses?”
“I have that part covered, don’t worry,” Eden gestured to the bag slung over his shoulder. “All that’s left is to sneak in.”
He waved Hiroki over to the nearest door, a side entrance marked “employees only.” The door was rusty and the stairs creaky, but the lock held when Hiroki tried it. As he fiddled with the doorknob, Eden pulled out two name tags, with codenames of course, to pin on their matching dress shirts. Between the name tags, “uniforms,” and general confident demeanors, Eden explained, no one would question whether or not they really worked there.
Hiroki eyed Eden’s bag cautiously. “You really have all of this planned out?”
“Yes, don’t worry, they won’t suspect a thing,” Eden said, knocking on the door. A sweet-looking old man opened the door for them, giving them a small smile as he let them in.
“Sorry sir, my friend and I locked ourselves out during our breaks,” Eden smiled back. “Thank you so much!”
“Oh it’s no trouble, boys,” the old man said. “Take care of yourselves now!” He went about his way as Hiroki and Eden walked into the building.
“We’re super spies, Hiroki, did you see that?” He shook Hiroki by the shoulder. The other boy seemed unimpressed.
Lillian’s fears came true. The music was too loud. She would go deaf, and once she went deaf she would die. The dance was going terribly. Though, as Michelle pointed out, it was a little too early for Lillian to die of deafness because they had only just arrived.
The music was all weird remixes of songs she didn’t know, and the catering lasted maybe two minutes before the snacks were all gone. She stood there with her hands at her sides, not quite sure what to think. Or do.
Did they teach everyone to dance while Lillian was skipping, or did they all just know how to intuitively and Lillian didn’t? Why did everyone seem to know the words to these songs—when did that happen? She turned to Michelle, who was smiling.
“Isn’t this cool? All the lights, and food, and dresses–” Michelle pointed to the crowd, but stopped herself. “Why are you making that face?”
Lillian’s eyes wandered around the room, not quite sure what to make of it. She felt like she had walked in on someone else’s birthday party. Everyone else knew how to talk to each other at the food tables, how to do makeup… and then there was her, who would probably never learn any of those things because they weren’t for her. When would she ever be going to parties aside from this one? As soon as she graduated, she’d go straight to work, and it didn’t seem like any of the adults did anything but work. The other girls had an actual future, where they might throw a big graduation party and go dancing whenever and wherever they chose to. Lillian wasn’t living in the same world as them—she wanted to sit in a corner and blend into the wallpaper.
“I don’t know about this, Michelle…” She said. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“Oh…” Michelle replied. “Okay. Right.” She walked away into the crowd, heels clacking as she disappeared. Lillian looked around for seats, but the quietest ones were by the door, with all the admins hovering nearby. She sighed and took a seat anyway, watching a clock on the wall and following the seconds hand as it made a full circle. She tapped her foot along once that got boring, and soon she was tapping her finger, too.
She heard a shuffling down the hallway and absentmindedly turned to look. There were two girls in the hallway—Lillian realized they were also dressed for a dance. Had people managed to sneak out? She craned her neck to get a better look.
Lillian startled and put a hand to her mouth reflexively. For half a second, she thought the two girls the admins were dragging back into the dance were Eden and Hiroki. She really must’ve spent too much time at work and not enough time sleeping.
Except…
She made eye contact with the girls.
“Hi Lillian!” She(?) waved. Lillian did not remember having any classmates with short black hair and two rings on the right hand. Lillian stared back and said nothing.
“Lillian! Over here!” Hiroki, too, waved her over. Lillian did not move. She sank back into the chair, covering her face with her hands. This wasn’t happening, she told herself. Eden pulled her hands off her face.
“Isn’t this cool! All three of us can hang out and you don’t even have to sneak out of school!” Eden said. When she said nothing, he tugged on her arms and pulled her out of her seat. “Come on, let’s go dance!”
“How did you guys even get in?” Lillian pulled her hands away. “Who gave you the address for this, even?”
“What do you mean, Lillian?” Hiroki said. “Of course Amaliel gave us the address for this mission. And we’re more than capable of sneaking in, we’re professionals.”
“The mission…” Lillian said. “Right, that mission.” She kicked Eden’s foot when Hiroki wasn’t looking. What was he even talking about?
“We have to party at least a little bit to blend in,” Eden told Hiroki. “You know, to avoid suspicion.” He dragged the two of them towards the dance floor.
Both of them standing straight as a board in the crowd, Hiroki and Lillian looked at Eden bewildered. Of course Eden was dancing just fine—Lillian saw Hiroki scowling as he tripped on the hem of his own dress. Hiroki tripped another time, and grabbed Lillian’s arm to stop himself from falling.
“If I have to dance you have to, too,” He told her as he stood back up, his frown even deeper. “It’s for the mission.”
Lillian rolled her eyes, but stepped back and forth to the beat. She saw other girls swinging their arms, so she did the same. It was at least a little unfair, she thought, to be stuck here with the biggest music nerd she knew. Karma, she supposed, for all her delinquency the past week. Eden smiled once all three of them were dancing and took Hiroki’s hand: he tried to spin Hiroki, but the other boy tripped again and Eden had to catch him. Hiroki pulled away and straightened the wrinkles in his dress.
“How are we going to find the librarians?” He asked, feigning composure. Lillian raised an eyebrow.
“That’s…” Eden thought for a moment. “Come closer, Hiroki.” He whispered something into the other boy’s ear. Hiroki nodded.
“Of course! I’ll be back soon,” Hiroki said, then disappeared into the crowd.
“...what’s he off to do?” Lillian asked warily.
“Intel, surveillance—don’t worry about it,” Eden said. Lillian worried about it. “He’s probably happy to be done dancing, anyways.”
“It wouldn’t have been that bad if he wasn’t wearing a skirt three inches too long,” Lillian said.
“Yeah…” Eden rubbed the back of his neck. “I forgot how short he was when I was looking for the dresses,” He admitted.
“You couldn’t have asked?”
“No!” Eden said. “What part of ‘super secret last-minute mission’ don’t you understand!”
“A lot, apparently,” Lillian rolled her eyes. The music and lights made her a bit dizzy.
Once Hiroki was out of sight, Lillian stopped dancing. She felt horribly out of place.
“Why are you two here?” She asked, eyes to the ground.
“I mean…” Eden began. “It’s not like the three of us have really hung out… at all. I barely know anything about Hiroki, and we’re supposed to be working together, you know?”
It was hard to hear him over the music, but Lillian figured she knew where this was going.
“So I just thought maybe a little team building wouldn’t hurt. And if we came here, then you wouldn’t even have to make up any schoolwork…” He continued. “Sorry if we’re bothering you, Lillian, I just thought-”
“It’s fine,” She said. She wasn’t sure why she said that, because it obviously wasn’t fine and she wanted to go home already, but she found herself continuing anyway.
“I just, don’t know how to dance, is all,” She lied. How could that be all? Everything about this was terrible. She could feel the other girls staring at her as they stood awkwardly in the crowd.
“You know, I think I know a guy,” He said. Lillian rolled her eyes. “Maybe- maybe there’s someone around here who might know a thing or two about dancing.” He looked over his shoulder theatrically.
Lillian should’ve picked a better lie. She could’ve said she felt sick! Why couldn’t she have said anything that didn’t involve making this whole night drag on for eternity—
“Okay, so if you start by focusing on your feet-” Eden lifted the hem of his dress so that Lillian could see what he was doing; he was still wearing normal shoes under the skirt. “You can listen to how the music is-”
“No, not like that-”
“That’s not right either-”
Lillian tried to stomp on his feet; Eden jumped back.
“Don’t break my toes, I have a rehearsal tomorrow— Lillian!”
“Stop being annoying!” She kicked at his ankles. Eden dodged.
“Stop trying to kill me!” He cried.
“You’re killing me! This is the worst night ever!”
“At least stay on beat!!” Eden dodged another kick.
Lillian, infinitely reasonable and accommodating as she is, took that into consideration and timed her next three attacks to the bass kick. She began to realize the limits of fighting in heels and a tight dress, but at least she was serving some fraction of her rage back to Eden before the night was over.
Eden grabbed her shoulders and spun her around—some kind of choreographed move maybe—and Lillian tried to reach behind her to grab him but couldn’t move that way in her tight sleeves.
“See, isn’t losing terrible? Losing isn’t fun at all,” Eden said. “You know what is fun? Dancing! Wouldn’t it be really fun to go dancing right now?”
Lillian’s face contorted with rage, not that Eden could see it. She resorted to going limp: Eden had to drag her like a corpse to the dance floor. He didn’t give up, not even when Lillian dug her heels into the floor.
“Lillian pleaseeeeeee?” Eden asked. “Just for five minutes? Hiroki is going to kill me once he realizes there isn’t actually a mission, can’t you at least try to hang out with us before I die?”
Lillian sighed.
“You know, most people think this is actually fun once they give it a shot. Why don’t we find Hiroki—he’s right over there actually—”
“FINE! I’ll dance.”
“Really?” Eden asked. There might’ve been real stars in his eyes. “Hiroko, over here!”
Hiroki turned towards them as Lillian stood up. They made a small circle at the edge of the dance floor.
“I think we’ve been spotted, Eden, so we’re really going to have to blend in,” Hiroki began.
“Right! Tell us everything you found out,” Eden said. “But for this song, maybe two steps to the right, and then two steps to the left, and as long as we stay in a circle we’ll look like we’re actually here for the dance.”
Hiroki and Lillian complied this time, trying their best to copy what Eden was doing. Hiroki even kept his composure when he tripped again. Lillian realized he must’ve been really committed to staying undercover: she wondered which of her classmates he thought was onto them.
She caught Hiroki from falling again, offering a small pat on the back hoping this wasn’t the dance number that pushed him over the edge. She put her best effort into figuring out this whole ‘dancing’ thing, even if it was just damage control at this point.
Two steps to the right, two steps to the left, and for a moment Lillian was almost fitting in. It was easy, really, to just focus on getting her feet in the right place on the beat, the way her dress swished around when she spun, the temporary panic each time the song changed and there was a new beat to dance to. She couldn’t hear her classmates talking anymore, only the music, but she swore this time it wasn’t because of hearing damage.
There was a momentum to forgetting, to losing each of the senses to music and rhythm: maybe there was something worthwhile about this after all.
“Lillian…?” A soft voice from behind. Lillian wasn’t sure she heard anything, if it wasn’t for the hair standing up on the back of her neck.
She had made a mistake.
She turned to find Michelle standing there, a cup hanging in her hand by her side, not half as out of breath as she was. Or happy.
“I couldn’t find you, I thought you had gotten into trouble or…” Michelle trailed off.
“I don’t know what I thought, really, but I thought you weren’t planning on dancing!” She continued.
“Michelle-”
“But I guess that wasn’t true at all, was it?” Michelle’s voice cracked. “You just didn’t want to hang out with me?! Is that it?!?”
“No, it’s not! Michelle-” Lillian raised her voice.
“You know that’s really hard to believe right now!” She yelled back. “Who even are these girls, I’ve never seen them before!”
Eden took a nervous step backwards. Hiroki was nowhere to be seen.
“If you were that embarrassed to be around me, I- I-” Michelle’s voice broke.
“Michelle, that’s not true!” Lillian insisted. “They’re friends from work, they’re not even supposed to be here, I wasn’t trying to ditch you!”
Michelle didn’t say anything. Eden was sweating.
“Really! I mean that!” Lillian pleaded. “I’m not embarrassed of you. I just didn’t want to be here in the first place! I would’ve just stayed by the door all night if they didn’t literally drag me here!”
“Like that’s so much better!” Michelle said.
“What do you want, then?!” Lillian demanded. “What am I supposed to say?”
“You can’t think of a single thing? Nothing at all?!” Michelle asked.
“I-” Lillian’s throat felt tight.
“Edith Dahlma’am your days are numbered!!!”
Lillian turned and suddenly the crowd parted clean down the middle, as if there was some collective understanding of what it meant to be the red sea as Moses stood before it. Eden’s face paled.
“Hiroko, my good friend, my best friend, my best gal pal-” Eden tried. His words did not drown out the deafening clack clack clack of angry heels on wood flooring.
“There are no librarians here!” Hiroki pointed a finger accusingly in Eden’s face.
“Now why would you think that-” Eden said.
Hiroki grabbed him by the collar of his dress and shook him back and forth.
“You! Are! A! Liar!” He yelled. “I can’t believe I listened to you!”
Lillian couldn’t believe it either. She turned over her shoulder to see Hiroki pulling Eden into a chokehold.
“Lily-” A desperate flinging of limbs and rustling of dresses. “Help-” Eden was still in the chokehold. And Michelle was still standing in front of her.
“Michelle, I-” Lillian tried again. She felt like she had gotten called on during a math lesson she slept through: there was some sort of right answer here but she was miles away from knowing the right words. “What do you want me to say?”
Michelle wiped her eyes. “Really?” she asked. “You really have to ask?”
Lillian thought it over again. “I mean it.”
Michelle couldn’t look her in the eye. “I thought it was obvious, all the times I brought up the dress and the meetings and-”
She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress before continuing. “And we never get to do anything like this, I don’t even know how long it’s been since I left campus.”
“I thought tonight would be special. That I could go somewhere with my friend and we could, I don’t know, be normal for just one night! That it wouldn’t be too much to ask to-” Michelle was crying now, and Lillian had no idea how to make her stop.
“I’m sorry Michelle-” Lillian started.
“No you aren’t! If you cared you would have noticed!” Michelle cut her off. Lillian didn’t have anything to say back to that, so she stood with her arms at her side. The music and clamor of the ballroom rang hollow.
“I really didn’t mean to,” Lillian said, probably too softly. Her words were carried away by the speakers. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“You know, Lily, I really don’t care!” Michelle said. “No one forced you to hate parties or music or whatever the hell your problem is!”
Michelle pointed a finger right at her. “You’re miserable, that’s all you are!”
Lillian winced at that. It wasn’t true. Her hands shook at her side.
“You can leave on your own!” Michelle said, and stomped off. Lillian wondered which of the girls might let her sit next to them on the bus ride back, and also why her eyes were so hot all of a sudden.
She turned around to see that Eden and Hiroki had stopped fighting, staring wide-eyed at whatever expression was on Lillian’s face at that point. Her heart was beating too fast—Lillian took off in a run. She found a door on one of the walls: a balcony that no one had decided to use. The door shut with a loud thud behind her.
Lillian stayed outside for a long time.
Shaky breaths drifted away on an icy wind—Lillian sat down against the heavy stone tiles lining the balcony. Small pebbles caught in the lace of her dress and she did nothing to fix it. There was nothing to fix anymore. The night was almost gone and in the morning it would be like every other morning except a little bit worse.
There was nothing she could do to be like everyone else, was there? No dress or music or dancing could ever put the same kind of careless smile on her face that everyone seemed to want. She tried, she really did try, and all it brought her was frost on her cheeks and shivering that wouldn’t stop. It was so cold on the balcony.
It was easy to pretend everyone else was wrong. That Lillian couldn’t dance because there was no point in dancing, and she didn’t want to be here because there was no point in being here. But her breath was shaking so much and there was little else she could think of except the look on Michelle’s face in the ballroom. It was so hard to pretend that Michelle was wrong, too.
She could still feel the yelling ringing in the back of her head, still feel the heels underneath her as she ran outside. She spread her hands onto the cold concrete beneath her—freezing herself to this moment. But it didn’t work, the pain was a hollow distraction:
You’re miserable.
You can leave on your own.
Lillian was wrong, and she was the only one. Everyone else knew exactly what kind of smile to wear to a dance, what smile to show to your friends. There was no one else as uniquely wrong as she was, and no one that would listen, either. She was the kind of broken that had to be held in her own hands.
It was so cold on the balcony. Lillian flinched as the door opened behind her.