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Dewey stares at his reflection in the mirror. All his self doubt has low self esteem have been bubbling up inside him ever since he agreed to this. Why did he agree to this??
“Oh my god,” he mutters, hiding his face in his hands. “This is so stupid. I’m so stupid. Maybe I shouldn’t go.” He starts to anxiously grab at his hair.
“Dewey,” His best friend cuts in calmly, pulling his hands away from his head. “It’s just a dance, a school dance at that. I think you’re overreacting.”
Dewey looks back at the mirror and nervously grabs the black tie around his neck. “I look like a sissy, Ned.” He looks at himself up and down, looking over the maroon blazer he had eventually decided on. It’s definitely bland, but it’s basically all Ned could get him to wear. Mostly because everything else was “too itchy” or “too tight.”
Ned doesn’t really know what to say. He’s never been great at reassurance. “It’s just gonna be like, children, parents, and staff. I don’t think they’ll care if you look like a ‘sissy.’ You let your niece paint your nails all the time!.”
“This is different, Ned, it-“ He hesitates, hoping Ned doesn’t realize the root of his worries. But, unfortunately for him…
“Ah. Principal Mullins is gonna be there, isn’t she?”
Dewey attempts to act aloof, but his red face gives him away immediately. “Pfft, no. Well, y-yeah, but that’s not why I’m…” He trails off, acting almost like a shy puppy. He knows he isn’t fooling anyone.
Ned firmly grasps Dewey’s shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Dewey. You’re gonna do great. Granted, Ms. Mullins can be a little difficult to impress, but you seem to know how to get through to her.”
The guitarist groans nervously. “But what if she’s still pissed at me? I mean, I lied to her! And I don’t think a lot of women find lying to be an attractive quality.”
“Dewey, I’m gonna be honest, I’m still a little pissed at you. You could have gotten us both thrown into prison. But I’ve forgiven you for the most part and your students have too. Mullins wants to trust you and she wouldn’t have given you a job there if she didn’t.” Ned reassures his friend, straightening his jacket. “Just… make sure to apologize if you haven’t already.”
Dewey exhales. “Right, right. Apologize.” There’s a moment of silence until Dewey speaks up again. “I’m so lucky.”
Ned pushes his glasses up his nose, as if it’ll help him to understand what Dewey just said. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” Dewey hesitates. “I have been nothing but a jackass to you and basically everyone else my whole life. I really don’t deserve your patience, Ned.”
He’s surprised to hear this from him. While an apology was definitely overdue, Ned didn’t expect him to be so hard on himself.
“Dude,” Ned starts, putting an arm around him. “I’m gonna be honest, the reason I’m so patient with you is because I know what it’s like to not be given a chance. It really sucks. But I’m also your best friend and I want nothing more than for my best bro to succeed.”
Dewey subconsciously leans his head against his shoulder. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. He doesn’t deserve anyone’s patience. Not when he’s been nothing but difficult his whole life. “Jesus, Ned…” He laughs, trying not to sound vulnerable. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Whatever.” Ned shoves Dewey playfully. “Just get out of here.”
Dewey tries (and fails) to straighten his already disheveled hair. “You’re the one who got cheesy!” He grabs his keys off of his nightstand and heads for the door. He stops right before walking out. “Thanks, Ned.”
After finally securing a parking spot, Dewey sits in his van outside of Horace Green, his anxiety at an all time high. He rests his forehead against the steering wheel and groans. Why is he doing this again? What’s his problem? Can’t he just be normal? Why hasn’t he left the damn van yet??
“I’m gonna regret this.” He opens the van door and steps out, fixing his tie. He makes his way up the front steps of the school, the sound of muffled music reaching his ears.
“Mr. Finn?” A small voice calls out.
Dewey swiftly turns his head to see Summer Hathaway, her little heels clicking against the concrete as she makes her way up the steps to him.
“I didn’t think you would be here.”
The last thing Dewey needs is Summer’s condescending attitude when his anxiety is through the roof. “Hey, Summer. I didn’t think I’d be here, either, honestly.”
Summer smooths out her adorable ruffled dress and gives him a warm smile. It’s definitely a contrast to her usual attitude towards him. It’s… a little unnerving, actually. “I hope you have a fun night, Mr. Finn.” She does a curtsy and starts to head up to the front doors.
Before Summer can open the door herself, Dewey stops her. “Wait.” He reaches over her shoulder and pulls the door open for her. “After you.”
Summer seems surprised at the gesture at first, but gives him a smile and heads inside. “Thanks, Mr. Finn.”
Dewey heads in behind her, watching as she eagerly heads to the gym to find her friends. The music is louder now, although not bothering him much. He needs to find Rosalie.
He makes his way to the somewhat crowded gym filled with students, parents, and staff. Dewey never saw himself ever attending an Elementary School dance. Or any school dance, for that matter. He didn’t stick around for very long at his senior prom. Being the “sped kid” and the “cubby kid,” all he got was weird looks, so he just stood against the wall. He’d gone home early, feeling more alone than before.
“Oh, jeez…” he mutters to himself as he scans the room for the principal. He finally spots her standing near the wall speaking with another teacher. He tries to subtly hide his face as he makes his way across the crowded room to Rosalie.
He approaches her finally. He fidgets with his mostly bandaged fingers, feeling that his palms sweatier than usual. He just sort of stands behind her until she notices him.
The teacher speaking with Ms. Mullins stops upon seeing Dewey. She awkwardly points to him, trying to turn Rosalie’s attention. She finally turns around and her face almost lights up upon seeing him. “Mr. Finn! I’m glad you were able to make it. I was a little worried you weren’t coming.”
Dewey hardly hears what she says. Not because of the loud music blaring throughout the gym, but because of the mere sight of her. Her maroon hair, which is usually up in a bun, is flowing down over her shoulders in curls and her dress is knee-length and dark purple color with thin straps over her shoulders. She has small hoop earrings and a simple necklace around her neck. Despite being all done up, she still chose to wear her glasses. Not that he’s complaining.
“Oh my god.” Dewey accidentally voices out loud. He feels his face heat up and his stomach do flips. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to- y-you know, I was just…”
“Are you alright?” Rosalie asks, an amused smile on her face.
Dewey tries to regain his composure. “No, no, I just… y-you… you look nice.”
Her face gets a little red. She remembers leaving her house earlier thinking she looked ridiculous. “Really? I thought I looked kinda silly…”
“No, no, you don’t look silly, you- you… you look great.” He rubs the back of his neck, not used to complimenting women (or anyone for that matter).
The principal laughs a little nervously. He’s not just trying to play with her, is he? Like, not trying to piss her off or anything?? “Thank you… is there anything you—“
“Do you wanna dance with me??” Dewey blurts out. Why did he say that? Oh god, why did he say that???
“D-Do I… uh… can I… d-dance? With you??” Mullins begins to stutter like a frozen car. “I’m… n-not much of a dancer, really, I mean…”
Does she not want to dance with him? Did he just blow this?? What’s wrong with him??? “I’m sorry, d-do you not want to? Cuz I mean, we-we don’t have to if you don’t want—“
“No! No, no, I’d love to dance with you! I’m just… not the greatest dancer…” she laughs nervously, playing with her hair.
“That’s okay, I’m not either… so… maybe we can be terrible dancers together?” He offers her his hand to take. She’s nervous at first, but she eventually takes it.
Dewey timidly leads her out onto the floor, where they just sort of… stand there for a moment. They aren’t exactly sure how to initiate this sort of thing.
“Uhh, here…” Dewey rests one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. Suddenly becoming self aware, he quickly pulls back. “Shit! Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t ask first, I probably should’ve—“
Rosalie grabs his hands, interrupting him. “It’s alright, Mr. Finn.” She places his hands back where they were. “Is this your first time dancing with someone?”
Dammit. She knows. “Uh, well… I mean… yeah. Yeah, it’s my first time…”
“That’s okay, you know. I’ve danced with many people before and I’m still not good.” She rests her hands on his shoulders. They try to move to the slow song coming from the speakers. It’s sort of a jumble of awkward movement, almost tripping, awkward eye contact. Eventually, they (sort of) get the hang of it, at least well enough as to not draw too much attention to themselves. Dewey realizes that this could be a good time to talk to Rosalie and properly apologize.
“Hey, Ro- uhh, Ms. Mullins?”
“Hm?” She looks at him, having to sort of look down, since she has a couple inches on him with heels on.
He spins her around, making her laugh. It almost makes him forget the apology completely. Come on, Dewey, focus…
There’s a gentle smile on Rosalie’s face as repositions her hands around him. “What is it?”
“You… I… mmh…” He trails off as she subconsciously starts to play with his hair. It’s been a while since someone’s done that. “You’re… very physically affectionate, aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Mullins asks, oblivious at first. But she soon realizes that she had been playing with his hair. She pulls back out of his arms, looking embarrassed. “Oh! Oh my god, I’m- I’m sorry! That’s super inappropriate, isn’t it?”
“Woah, Ms. Mullins, it’s really not that big of a deal…”
“No, no, I shouldn’t be touching my staff like that. That was my fault.”
Dewey calmly steps a little closer to her, as if approaching a stray kitten. “Do you… do it often, or something?” He asks with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Mullins presses her palm to her forehead as if she’s the dumbest person in the world. “Not particularly… I guess it’s a habit. From…” She stops suddenly, feeling embarrassed. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Sorry.”
Dewey senses her embarrassment. He doesn’t want people to think they’re arguing or something, so he laughs it off. “Mullins, you’re overthinking this. I’ve had my hair touched before. Here, let’s get a drink alright?” He reassures her, like he’s done a few times before. He’s strangely good at it.
The principal tries to shake off the previous awkwardness and sheepishly agrees. “Alright… that’s fine.”
They make their way over to the table by the farthest wall, where Dewey grabs Ms. Mullins some punch. She takes the red plastic cup in her hands.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, Ms. M,” Dewey replies, sipping out of his own cup. Unfortunately, he has to stay sober, but he’ll manage.
Rosalie giggles at his response. “‘Ms. M’? Really??”
“What? It saves me the trouble of saying ‘Ms. Mullins.’ Just shorter.”
“You know,” Rosalie traces the rim of her cup. “you can call me ‘Rosalie’ when we’re alone.”
Dewey gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ms. Mullins…” he says, almost like he’s scolding her. “Are you flirting with me??”
“Quiet, you.” She nudges him with her elbow before taking a sip of her punch.
They glance around at all the other people in the dimly lit gym chatting or dancing. Dewey speaks up. “C’mon. We can chill in the hallway.”
Ms. Mullins is reluctant at first, but she soon nods in agreement. “Sure. The music is sorta giving me a bit of a headache, anyway.”
Before stepping out of the gym, they finish the last of the punch in their cups and toss them in the trash can by the gym doors. They step out into the dimly lit hallway, and Rosalie almost feels herself relax a little. The loud music is pretty much muffled now and the night sky through the large windows puts her at ease. She’s always liked nighttime. It’s a reminder that it’s okay to relax, to take a break. She never got much of that when she was younger.
Dewey finds a wall and leans back on it, tilting his head back. He lets out a contented sigh.
“Mr. Finn?” The principal asks. “Are you alright?”
“I…” the rockstar starts, messing with the band aids around his fingers. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry? Sorry for what? Ms. Mullins tilts her head, leaning against the wall next to him. “What’s there to be sorry for, Mr. Finn?”
He runs his hands down his face. “I’m… sorry for the… fraud thing,” he mutters.
“Oh… you’re still worried about that?”
“Well… yeah. I mean, I lied to you, to the kids… I committed a crime, Mullins.”
“Right… right. You know, you don’t really need to apologize. I mean, yeah, you were a major jackass for that, but you’ve made it up to me along the way. You gave the children the chance for their voices to be heard, you gave me my spark back…” Her cheeks are dusted pink and she starts to play with her hair when she brings up the last part.
Dewey scoffs amusingly. “Wow. Way to not be cheesy, Mullins.”
She laughs at his snarky comment. “You started it.”
A moment of silence. Dewey breaks it. “What do you mean I ‘gave you your spark back’?”
Rosalie exhales almost longingly. She messes with the curls flowing over her shoulder. “Remember when you kissed me at the roadhouse?”
Dewey’s face turns red. Huh?! He didn’t expect her to bring that up. “Uhh… y-yeah… why?”
She has an almost dreamy expression remembering the time he kissed her right outside the bar. “I felt something that I hadn’t felt in ages. Almost like… excitement. Or… the feeling of being wanted… I definitely haven’t felt that in a while.”
Dewey chuckles, almost as if he’s trying to seem like he doesn’t care. “What, you want me to do it again or something?”
“I mean…” Rosalie hesitates. “Maybe I do.”
The guitarist turns to face her. His hand moves to gently take hers. “Hm, you want me that bad?”
The redhead traces her finger along the sleeve of his jacket. “Maybe I do…” she repeats with a smirk.
Their faces are dangerously close when they suddenly hear the gym doors burst open. In a flash, they quickly shove each other away to avoid looking suspicious. One of the staff walks out and lets Ms. Mullins know that they’re heading home for the night. The principal wishes them a farewell as they make their way out the doors.
She turns back to Dewey, straightening out her dress. “Sorry, that was probably too close for the workplace, huh?”
“Aw, don’t be so paranoid, Mullins. It’s not like you kissed me in front of a bunch of students and their parents.” He shrugs playfully.
Rosalie lets out a surprised noise. Her face burns. “I will fire you.”
Dewey can’t help but laugh at her embarrassment. Her dumb red face is too cute.
There’s an abrupt stop to the muffled music. When it comes back on, there’s a romantic song echoing through the empty hallways. An impressed hum comes from Dewey.
“Haven’t heard this one in a while,” he says. “I remember my mom singing it to me.”
While she finds that ridiculously cute, Rosalie can’t help but feel a little jealous. The only kind of attention she really received from her parents were demands and scoldings. She was supposed to be the “perfect daughter” who was meant to be seen, not heard.
Dewey, noticing Rosalie’s downcast expression, wants to try to cheer her up. “Hey,” he interjects. “wanna try this again?” He extends his hand for her to take.
Rosalie wants to decline, say that she has things to do, but he’s being such a gentleman. And those sweet puppy eyes of his… it makes her want to throw herself onto him and kiss him senseless. Attempting to swallow these feelings, she starts to remove her heels, bringing her down to his exact height.
“You can play with my hair all you want,” Dewey teases.
Rosalie sets her shoes aside and finally takes his hand. “Hush,” she responds.
He leads her to the middle of the hallway and hesitantly puts his arms around her waist. “Is- is this okay with you?”
Putting her arms over his shoulders, she replied with, “Yes.”
They start to slowly move to the gentle music flowing from the gym. They avoid eye contact, their faces flushed red. They really undermined how awkward this would be. They’re dancing and their faces are just inches apart. Dewey keeps a firm hold on her waist, as if she’ll fly away if he lets go. He still tries his best to be gentle, though; the last thing he wants is to scare her off. The scent of her Japanese Cherry Blossom perfume is bringing back so many memories, some good and some bad. He really wants to just pull her in and take in her scent, but that would be insanely weird. To break the awkward tension, Dewey tries to make conversation.
“So you’re not still mad at me? Even after I lied to you? Played with your feelings…?”
“Maybe it was… a really shitty thing to do, but I’m not mad. It’s kind of weird, actually. That I’m somehow not very upset with you. Maybe it’s because I understand why you did it. You needed the money.”
Dewey twirls her around and places his arms back around her waist. “I just… hope you know that I’m… I don’t usually just use people like that. You should hate me.”
Rosalie lets her dress flow as she spins. “I should. To be honest… it did hurt pretty bad when you came clean. It sorta felt like… all of that was fake… the roadhouse… the things you told me…”
He stops dead in his tracks and grabs her arms firmly. “Fake?? Ms. Mullins, I may have lied to you and everyone else, but you were probably the most real thing I’ve felt in ages.”
They’re both a little shocked by what had just come out of his mouth. Did he just confess to having feelings for her??? Rosalie, not sure how to respond, immediately hides her face in his shoulder and whimpers.
“Shit-“ Dewey mutters. “TMI…?”
“No, I just… me too.”
“…What??”
“I love you too.”
“…”
“…”
Heavy, awkward silence. Nervous breathing.
Then…
“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”
Rosalie gives a nod of consent. “Uh huh.”
Dewey brings his hands up to her cheeks to hold her face before he pulls her into a loving kiss. Rosalie almost immediately wraps her arms around him, wanting him closer.
The guitarist pulls away for a brief moment and catches his breath. “Someone’s excited.”
Rosalie looks around to make sure nobody sees them. She pulls him in by his jacket for another kiss, causing Dewey to let out a surprised noise. They stand there just sort of making out like two teenagers until both of them eventually pull back.
“Wow,” Dewey says, heart pounding in his chest. “You really like doing that, huh?”
Rosalie smirks mischievously. “Doing what?”
Dewey attempts to wipe the smeared bright red lipstick marks off his face and fix his hair. “Those surprise kisses. I think you just want to touch me.”
The principal hums quietly and wraps her arms back around his neck. “Maybe.”
He feels her start to play with his hair again, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He leans forward and gently turns her head so he can kiss her on the cheek. She giggles and shoves his face away.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Dewey, I can still fire you.”
“But you won’t.”
“…”
Dewey pokes her cheek repeatedly. “That’s what I thought.”
“You’re an ass.”
“You are what you eat.”
“Ugh. Just c’mere,” she replies, pulling his face in for another smooch. She can’t help it. This loser has captivated her.
When Rosalie finally pulls back once more, Dewey is a red-faced, giggling mess. For someone who hates authority figures, he sure is weak for this one. “C’mon, Rosie, stop it…” he whines, but makes no effort to pull away from her. “I get it, you just want me so bad.”
Rosalie looks away nervously. She hates that he’s right.
The teacher snickers. His arms are back around her waist and his head is on her shoulder. “You love me?” He murmurs.
She practically starts to sweat in his arms. “What? I have no idea what you’re talking about…”
“Oh, don’t you start lying to me, Sweetheart. I believe your exact words were ‘I love you too.’”
She grabs his tie and tries to cover his face with it. “Shut up.”
Dewey laughs at her bashfulness and clears his throat. “You wanna head back?”
“No,” the principal replies, leaning against his chest. “This is fine.”
Dewey nods silently. He notices the way she’s trying to cuddle into him. He removes his jacket and wraps it around her shoulders. She doesn’t say anything, just hums in response. He assumes that’s a thank you.
The teacher and principal stand outside the doors of the school, getting their last conversation in for the night. Their hands are joined without either of them realizing it.
“I’m glad you came, Dewey. You really lightened the mood tonight.”
“Well, maybe I have that effect on people. I guess you aren’t immune.”
Ms. Mullins can’t help but laugh at his dumb comment. “I guess I’m not.”
They stand in silence for a good while with their hands joined before for maybe the tenth time that night, Rosalie pulls him in for another kiss. Dewey’s arms find their way around her waist once again. It’s instinct at this point. Rosalie feels like she might just start floating. They pull away, but not too far. They’re still close enough to kiss again if they want to, which for Dewey, wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “Gee, another kiss? You’re spoiling me here, Mullins.”
Rosalie goes from looking him in the eyes to gazing at his lips, then the tie around his neck. Her hand follows her gaze. “Well maybe it’s because I like you.”
Dewey laughs. “I never would’ve guessed.” He pulls her in and leaves a trail of loving kisses on her face. They can’t seem to keep their hands off each other tonight.
She sheepishly pushes his face away. “Alright, Dewey, cut it out; we’re outside. People can probably see us…”
“So what?” He holds her in a tight hug and rests his forehead against hers. “None of their business, is it?”
“I suppose this means we’re… well, if you’d like to—“
“YES. Or-uh… yeah. Yeah, I’d love to… be with you.”
Rosalie is a little startled by Dewey’s immediate, eager response. But it was also… cute. “Pff, alright then, Romeo. I guess I’ve got myself a boyfriend.”
The word “boyfriend” makes his heart flutter. He tries to keep it together at least until he gets back to his car. “Uh… night, Rosalie.”
“Wait! Don’t you want your jacket back?” she says to him as he starts to leave.
“Nah. I’ll get it some other time.”
“Okay, then…” Rosalie has to lean down just a bit to give him one last kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Dewey.”
Dewey waves back at her and watches her head back inside. He gets into his van and leans back in his seat.
Judging by the smile on his face and the way he starts to kick his feet, he seems to have had a great time.