He felt it. The rhythm of her body moving against to the beat of the bass dropping and the breakdown starting. The way she pulled away and he effortlessly got close again, the game of cat and mouse in the presence of chaperones and often peering eyes from those they had either interrupted or felt obligated to watch them. They were the most unlikely of pairs to dance in such a borderline-inappropriate manner, yet the game they played (more him than her) was infectious. After some point, others imitated them with the utmost flattery possible.

With that smile that Kavi was so known for brandishing more so than the words broke it, he went in one last for a subtle dip in his eyes, but not so subtle in the eyes of the wary teachers and certain guardian figures who were keeping a close eye to make sure the homecoming dance didn’t become the fuckfest that they feared it would become. As soon as he brought her up, he found it almost impossible to not chuckle at her comments.

“And who says that would be a bad experience?”

As soon as he said that, Kavi’s eyes fell on where April’s had been no more than a few seconds ago. The gathering scene of where Santiago was. He saw the little blonde troublemaker that doubled as the resident troll, the ever-entertaining Penny. A few clicks to the left, he saw one relieved Stella with her no-chance-in-hell date, Oliver being as supportive as he could. If Kavi had to wager, Santiago probably went over to poor Stella and got pulled away by the others. And if that was the case, then Kavi had a few ideas what was going to happen.

And that’s when Mara was leaving a scathing Santi. Oh, what Kavi would give to know what red buttons the little blonde touched to cause that guy to almost lose it. That wasn’t what Kavi found most amusing. No, it became evident as he had looked back at April that she was going through somerthing. If he had to place a bet, there was something about her averting glance from Santiago that gave him a...feeling that she wanted to go over there, but for obvious reasons, there was something holding her back.

He only out a sigh as he let go of her hips, stepping back. “Go on, then,” Kavi said all of a sudden. He even gestured to his date. “I know you want to go over there. It’s practically written all over your sexy face. Either that or ignore him, but subtlety isn’t your forte, Foster. I know it’s not mine either, which is why I’m telling you this. Get it out there for your own sake,” He insisted, patting her somewhat gently on the back as if trying to accelerate the decision process.

April just stared back at Kavi. It was evident that she was not expecting him to have noticed, let alone both how fast and accurately it had happened. She took in a breath in looked at him, trying to relax herself "Fuck, was it that obvious...? I'm sorry Kavi ...I can stay, its fine. I am your date for tonight."

She's sorry?

Kavi was finding this the most confusing thing ever and he had to deal with Stella's nonstop texts during her Santiago phase. But, Kavi wasn't a total ass, so he wasn't going to hold that against her. If he had his choice, he'd rather hold himself against her. "Listen, I'm going to say this because I actually have respect for you, which is a lot more I can say for most of the girls here," Kavi said, his eyes falling directly where he remembered seeing Marisol. "You have unfinished business with Santiago. I don't know what it is, but you need to do that. Now, if you happen to still want to finish this date like how everyone here thinks they are supposed to, come to find me. I'll be around," he informed her, leaning in, stopping directly in front of her face and it took a left and on that cheek, he gave her a simple kiss.

"Thanks. There's just...more going on than you know." April paused, her brain moving faster than her mouth could keep up with. "This has been a great afternoon, despite everything." She froze as Kavi leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, her heart racing. April's cheeks flushed red and she looked down as Kavi pulled away. All April could manage before she turned to leave was a gentle smile, and then a simple "Goodbye Kavi.." before she turned and began her approach to hell that awaited her.

“I hate her leaving but I love watching her go.”

As much as he would have loved to keep her in his arms and try and woo her into forgetting Santiago, there was no way that was going to happen. If she was constantly thinking about that pill salesman while Kavi did some of his best moves, it wasn’t going to be an enjoyable experience for either of them. Besides, the sooner she got the devil off her mind meant more time she would be able to focus on the Kavimiester.

He casually took out his phone as he started to walk away from the dancefloor. He sent the following to Santiago.


By the time he sent that message, Kavi scanned the area. The problem he found with doing the right thing - something he was trying to do more of - was being left to his own devices. Granted, he wasn’t as unliked as Sonny was. He heard things about his comments and how it rubbed people the wrong way. And perhaps Kavi wasn’t the shining example of a good guy, but he was leagues above Sonny and definitely wasn’t as obnoxious as the current obsession his homecoming date had, but he knew he wasn’t perfect. Surprise! Kavi’s flawed.

However long he was lost in his own thoughts, he found himself in one of the tents where he saw Santiago’s homecoming date. Thinking to himself, he thought it could be a fun time getting to know the troublemaker, especially since they have something in common in Santiago Fernandez.

“Sup, Lil Yellow?” Came Kavi’s comment from behind. There was a decent height difference. It wasn’t a sizable amount. Kavi couldn’t rest his arm over the top of her head. Or rather, he could do that but it wouldn’t set a good first-ish impression. But there was something that could be accomplished. “I thought you had a date with the devil?” He asked mockingly.

Never in her life did Stella’s heart beat any faster than it was in the span of just three minutes.

She made the terrible, terrible, unfortunate mistake of calling him over when she first saw him. Stella didn’t know why she did it even after he had left her and Oliver in peace. Even after Penny, who for a short moment, had casually started a conversation with Stella and Oliver, but promptly left when she saw that Santiago had left. Everything happened so fast for the anxious girl that by the time she was able to have a moment of peace, her heart was all in a flutter and she couldn’t find the time to actually take a moment to breathe. It took her hunching over on all fours and deeply wheezing as her dark locks fell over her face, hindering the fearful face of the fragile girl.

Boy, what a fun minute it was for her trying to gather herself. Thankfully, Oliver was there for her the entire time. She still couldn’t fathom what it was about her and Diablo. Why did she have so little control over her actions around? And added to that, why god’s name didn’t he stay? She knew how he was and knew exactly what drove him to do the things he often did for his own amusement. It was that reason alone that boggled her why he didn’t stay. It wasn’t a full sequence of moments did she see a group gathered around him. She didn’t know what happened, but something along the lines of a pissed of Mara running past where Stella had previously been hunched over.

“I am now,” she quickly answered Oliver when he asked if she was okay. “I just don’t understand what it is about me and that boy.” Stella breathed out a somewhat confused, if not just slightly annoyed, sigh. “I’m sorry you had to see me do my best imitation of Koffing’s evolved form.” Stella made the most subtle, unrecognized, totally-indie joke about a generation one Pokemon.

Sonny wasn't much of a dancer. Ask anyone who knew him even remotely well. And he hasn't been for the longest time. It's been like this since he was a little kid. His mother, bless her heart because Sonny knew it was in the right place, couldn't get him to take dance lessons early on. Jackson wanted his wife to be happy and since Andrea was too busy and thought dancing was beneath her (yes even as a little girl she thought that), Viola wanted to get her son into it. Growing up, he was quite fond of his mother - a momma's boy, even! - so he did whatever she wanted to make her happy. Only, it turned out that he didn't possess the Banks elegance, so not long after Sonny showed little to no grace, Viola happily took him out of those ballet lessons and allowed her husband to sign him up for Judo.

But, as he stood there, looking at Nadia, her face as clear and porcelain like a doll with locks of red-orange color, a moment passed through him that he was reminded of how much he hated dancing. Well, it wasn’t so much that he hated to dance, but his experience since when he was a child left a bad taste for it in his mouth. The way Nadia smiled at him seemed to quell that thought for a moment. Something about the way her smile glimmered made him smile as well.

At that moment when Nadia accepted his offer, his slight curve of a smile was briefly followed by an air of silence and a laugh that was just low enough for only the two of them to hear it. He took her hand, gripping it somewhat gently because he knew Nadia was somewhat fragile but not the tender fragile. She more in the softly-spoken, ‘handle with care’ fragile. Her hand felt like a feather that slowly fell into his open palm, guided by the encouraging breeze of the brisk Saturday night.

Sonny, with a surprisingly-gentle face on hers, was just about to take Nadia onto the dancefloor, getting somewhat closer to where the others were doing their own thing, then all of a sudden Julie Macmillan showed up unexpectedly. This was a welcomed surprise. She and Sonny had become decent friends and since Marisol had gone up and ghosted him on several occasions, she kind of filled that particular void, though it wasn’t really the same. Julie was a lot more - oh, Sonny would say elegant - than Marisol could ever hope to be. In the end, it was alright. She was doing her own thing and Sonny couldn’t fault her for that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

But of course, hell will freeze over before he ever let her know that. Even after he happened to see her with Salem (even if it was just a brief moment), he wasn’t going to allow her the satisfaction of seeing him actually be affected by whatever nonsense she was up to, not when he had so many beautiful redheads willing and waiting to occupy his time. But if only Andres would beat it. He’s cramping Sonny’s style.

“Well, isn’t it my third-favorite redhead.”

Sonny tried to be funny, but in the end, he only made himself cringe.

“I kid, of course. I only know three redheads, so that’s not really fair.”

Yeah, that was much better.

Adjusting his jacket somewhat, Sonny’s chestnut-colored eyes gave Nadia and Julie a look a few times over. He gave Andres a bit of a judgmental expression, but that was because, by the time he had gotten off the phone, he said something in Spanish and Sonny wanted to at least pretend to care what he said, but before he could attempt that, the Latino said something that was automatically tuned out as he left.

“Well, okay I guess we’ll be seeing him later,” the male commented, unable to withhold the overwhelming need to roll his eyes. But on the plus side, Sonny could now genuine appreciate the company of not one, but two beautiful girls who want nothing more than to please him. Or engage in productive conversation. Either or worked for him. “And to answer your question, I don’t do the dancing thing often. Mom tried to get me into it and I remember it being absolutely horrible. Like who enters their five-year-old son in ballet?”

Again Sonny couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Just the thought of it made him visibly scowl at the memory.

The breath of cool, fresh air was definitely the wake up call Marisol needed right now. Her body was tingling in the aftermath of her almost-kiss with Salem, heart pounding like a hummingbird in her chest. Mar’s head was spinning, full of what-if scenarios that repeated themselves over and over, each one more suggestive than the next. If his phone hadn’t interrupted them, just how far would they have gone? That was a question that would forever remain unanswered.

From her position, Marisol had a clear view of what was going on inside the tents. Her bored green eyes scanned the area, looking around for anything that was remotely interesting to entertain her while keeping an eye out for Salem. There was Oliver and Stella, looking as awkward as could be and getting a chuckle out of Mari. Then there was Kavi risking his life trying to seduce the Devil’s girl, which the brunette could only assume failed when their provocative dancing stopped and April walked away to God knows where. By the drinks table, Aaliyah, Chanel and Jordan were chit-chatting away -a trio with no importance to the young woman, so her attention was quickly diverted elsewhere. Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor, Kavan and Beatrice were looking rather cozy in the middle of a hug, taking the brunette by surprise for the better part of two seconds before getting bored again. Finally, without even meaning to, Marisol caught sight of Sonny, Nadia and Julie in the corner of the room.

The little green-eyed monster inside her chest roared loudly, scratching at its cage and begging to be let out. The muscles in her short body tensed up, small hands balling up into fists, twitching with the desire to smash some pretty faces.

But why?

As far as Mari knew, she and Sonny hadn’t been on speaking terms since their little argument in the cafeteria the day the homecoming pairings were announced. Not so much as a text message was exchanged between the two, and the girl’s free time had been purposely occupied with school, work and spending time with Salem. She’d figured that her absence would make his heart grow fonder, and that Son would eventually come around to realizing he couldn’t be without his best friend. But instead, their time apart seemed to have had the opposite effect. Tonight, surrounded by two sweet, beautiful girls, Sonny looked so damn happy without her… And that shit fucking hurt.

A fresh wave of guilt and sadness washed over Marisol, and the once-furious monster in her chest now whined in pain the corner of its cage. Her green eyes suddenly filled with tears, which she furiously blinked away before they had any chance of ruining her makeup. Nope, there would be no crying tonight: especially not over Sonny Drake.

Drawing out a long breath, Mari took a moment to get ahold of herself and turn her bruised heart into steel again. She looked around for any signs of teachers before pulling out the small bottle of tequila from her bag, unscrewing the lid with shaky fingers and downing what was left in one gulp. Her eyes filled with tears she quickly blinked away once more, this time due to the stinging, burning sensation of the liquor down her throat. It didn’t matter, though. If being sober tonight was going to make her feel this shitty, she was better off getting fucked up instead.

With a deep sigh, Marisol turned around and trudged back into the warmth of the crowded tent, making sure to dispose of the evidence along the way.

As the time in Stella’s mind went on (even though real life time was a lot slower), she began to panic both inside her own head. That happened a lot more than it should have and when Stella’s mind came out of it, she immediate shook off the uneasy feeling deep in her gut as she dusted herself off in more ways than one. Her brown eyes focused on the blonde hunk in front of her and smiled at him with same glow she always was known to have.

“Never mind that. Let’s just forget about the brief encounter with the Devil. He’s clearly forgetting about me,” Stella said, a rare showing of her self-deprecating darkness surfacing, though she laughed it off. “Let’s dance!”

Forgetting about it was a good choice, simply because Oliver had no way to respond. Sure, he could have given Diablo a response, but the guy had taken off before anyone had the chance to speak. Struggling for things to do or say, Stella suggested that they dance. ”Uh… Stella. Confession time, sweetie. I can't dance. Not unless it's the Cupid Shuffle or The Wobble. And even then, I still suck.”

”Wait what?”

She had to have been hearing things. No, it wasn’t that she expected him to be a good dancer simply because he seemed like the type because how fabulous he always looked. Stella was so far beyond believing stereotypes defined a person. Just because he looked like a dancer didn’t actually mean he was one. If that was true, she would have been the kind of girl who liked to listen to Taylor Swift and dream about the perfect guy sweeping her off of her feet. No, she was more of a Katy Perry girl and liked to think of herself as a ‘meet you halfway’ kind of guy. She’ll jump into his arms and he’d catch her.

Yeah, who was she kidding? She totally dreamed about the perfect guy sweeping her off of her feet while she was swooned by how gorgeous he was. But, this wasn’t the time for her to get lost in her own mind.

”Well, lucky for us we’re in a place where people won’t judge, right? I mean, what do they think this is? High school?” And there came Stella’s poor attempt at a joke that she was hoping would get him to laugh.

Stella's weak joke did manage to get a small smile out of Oli. She had a fair point. Looking around, it seemed that the rest of the students were engaged with their own conversations. ”You've got a point, Stel,” he responded.

Bowing to Stella before coming back up with a smile, he offered her his hand. ”May I have this dance?”

Oh my god! Oh my God! Oh my God!

Stella had to do everything that she could from not doing exactly what she had dreamed of doing and jumping into his arms. Even though she clearly knew that he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart and not actually because he liked her in the way she was hoping he would (Stella was easily swooned and wooed), but his poise, the way he has treated her, and just his overall pleasantness just reminded her of the tales that her Uncle Wesley and Aunt Florence had behind their love. It was beautiful in the sense that her uncle was such a gentleman when he and her aunt were her age. To this day, the love story between Florence Lambert and Wesley Cross is still her favorite to hear.

So, you bet that Stella took Oliver’s offer with such a willingness to take his hand that when she did, it felt cold and comforting to her almost-sweaty palm. Hell, she couldn’t deny that her entire body was starting to shake and shiver and sweat and tremble from the nervous excitement she felt. Yes, she knew she was the personification of an oxymoron and she didn’t care. Whatever the truth of this moment meant was a foreign concept to the young Lambert. Only thing she could see was the sparkle in Oliver’s grayed eyes and how earnest and true he was.

To hell with Kavi and Sonny’s comments. She was going to just enjoy his company and dance with her homecoming dance.

And dance she did. As she would lend her superior dancing skills (not really but a little better than his apparently), she both let him guide her while she guided him into a rhythm.