Class ended with the usual scraping of chairs and the low hum of chatter as students packed their things. I grabbed my assignment and made a beeline for Mr. Pierce's desk, feeling the weight of Xavier's presence behind me the whole way.
"Here," I said, dropping the thick sheaf of papers onto the desk like a challenge.
Mr. Pierce didn't even flinch. He glanced at it—barely—then reached into his drawer and pulled out a comic book. A comic book. He opened it with all the nonchalance in the world, licking his finger to turn the page.
I blinked. "Are you serious right now?"
"Hmm?" he said without looking up. "Oh. Right. Your assignment. I'm sure it's... tolerable."
My jaw dropped. "I worked on that for weeks."
"Yes," he said, finally looking at me with his usual bored expression, "and so did the entire staff at NASA, and yet Pluto's still not a planet."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means," he said, snapping the comic shut and setting it down with theatrical flair, "that effort doesn't always equate to brilliance.
I gaped at him. "You are the worst."
"Thank you," he said, bowing slightly like I'd given him a compliment.
" This isn't fair." I said.
"You want to be exceptional, Miss Millers? Then stop whining and be exceptional. You're smart. I know that. But smart is a dime a dozen around here. Go the extra mile. Be more."
I stared at him, annoyed. But underneath the irritation, his words twisted around something deep in me. Something that hated being underestimated.
"I am more," I said, lifting my chin.
He grinned, and it made me want to punch him. "Good for you then. "
I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. "You're insufferable."
"And yet," he said, already reopening his comic, "you keep showing up to my classes."
"Yeah, because I need extra credit."
"Tell yourself that," he murmured, already flipping a page. "Now run along, student."
I turned to leave, muttering something about him under my breath.
Guidance counselor my ass. This man was the devil himself!
******************
Coco's POV.
It was charity ball's day. The clock read 7:30pm.
There was still at least an hour before the party starts.
I had just finished curling the last strand of my hair when Sid walked in, slowly closing the door behind her like she didn't want to disturb the air. She was already dressed—in a brown floral dress that hung a bit too loose on her tiny frame. Her freckles looked a little darker tonight, maybe because of the pink blush she'd clearly tried, and her wire-rimmed glasses kept sliding down her nose.
Still, she smiled at me.
"You look like the kind of girl Disney would sue for being too pretty," she said quietly.
I chuckled and turned toward her. "That's dramatic, even for you. But thanks."
I gave her a once-over. "You look sweet. That dress is… it's soft. Classic."
She smiled tightly. "It's the only one I have that doesn't scream thrift-store clearance bin."
"Sid." I gave her a look, not scolding, just soft. "its.... Pretty. "
She dropped her gaze to the floor, but when I followed the line of her eyes, I realized she wasn't just being modest—she was staring at something.
The corner of a deep green fabric peeked out from the slightly ajar drawer beside my bed.
"You like it? " I asked.
" It's beautiful." She admits.
I walked to my drawer.
"No, Coco, I'm not—"
I was already pulling it out.
The dress shimmered slightly under the overhead light, a deep emerald . It had off-shoulder straps that draped like delicate vines, and a sweetheart neckline that was neither too modest nor too bold. The bodice was structured but soft, cinching at the waist with a long silk belt meant to be tied into a bow at the back. The skirt flowed into soft pleats, light enough to twirl but heavy enough to feel regal.
"This would look amazing on you," I said, holding it up.
Sid held up both hands like I was offering her a live grenade. "No. No, Coco, absolutely not. That dress is… that dress is... It's not for someone—."
I stepped closer. "This dress is for you. It's elegant, understated, and it would look perfect on you."
"You don't know that."
" Just try it. Please. You know you want to." I teased.
She hesitated, caught in the crossfire of self-doubt and temptation. Eventually, she sighed. "If I soil it or tear it—"
"You won't. I promise."
A few minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in silk and looking like an angel.
The dress fit surprisingly well, even though she was much skinnier than me. We tied the long belt behind her into a dainty bow, cinching it in so the bodice hugged her right. The off-shoulder straps rested perfectly on her thin arms, and the way the skirt fell made her look like something out of a painting. Her freckles popped against the green, and her red hair gleamed like fire under the dorm lights.
She stood frozen in front of the mirror. "That's not me."
"It is," I said, stepping up behind her. "It's you when you finally let yourself be seen."
I could tell she was getting emotional, so I quickly added, "Alright, dramatic moment over. Sit. You're not going to that ball with your hair looking like a half-eaten haystack."
"Rude," she muttered, but obeyed.
I got to work brushing her curls out gently, twisting some strands into soft braids that framed her face and pinning a few back with glittery clips I know she loved.
"You know, you could've been a hair stylist," she said.
"i know right? But I'd put every other stylist out of business, we don't want that now, do we? "
We both laughed.
By the time I was done, she was glowing. Nervous, but glowing.
"I look like a princess," she whispered.
"You always did," I replied, and meant it. "Now, let's go turn heads."
-----
Coco's POV
Romley hall looked nothing like a school hall tonight.
Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in golden light, and a string quartet played something elegant in the corner. Tables lined the edges with golden cloth and intricate centerpieces, while waiters in crisp uniforms moved through the crowd with trays of sparkling cider and hors d'oeuvres I couldn't even pronounce.
Students milled about in gowns and suits, laughter echoing off the high ceilings. It looked like a royal gala straight out of a movie—except we were the cast.
Fancy.
Sid clung to my arm as we stepped into the room. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses, her perfectly braided red hair glowing under the lights.
"Coco," she whispered. " Im gonna puke."
I grinned. "Too late to run now."
She swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly around my wrist. "I feel like I'm in Cinderella, except I forgot the glass slippers and still have braces."
"You look like a fairytale," I said, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "And anyway, you're not here to impress anyone. We came to eat free food, dance like maniacs, and be fabulous."
As if to prove my point, a waiter passed by and I shamelessly grabbed two glasses of what looked like sparkling fruit juice. "Drink, it'll help"
She laughed, then sipped a bit. "it does kinda help. "
"You're welcome."
We found a spot near the edge of the dancefloor, watching the sea of glittering students swirl and twirl in perfect rhythm. Paris and Tyler danced on, their lips in a lock as the attempted to swallow each other.
"Ewww."
" Awwwn."
I and sid said simultaneously.
Then, of course, the double doors opened.