Valentine's Day Dance Entrance

[Ann Hudgins]

Now that Ann had been training every day as hard as she could, she could admit that being an empath wasn't such a bad thing as she used to think. She was hardly ever influenced by outside emotions, and her touch resistances were forever getting stronger. She could isolate different emotions and tell if two emotions came from one person or two. Now, at the dance, it was like there were a thousand different bees buzzing around in the room, making emotional ripples in the air. Ann could feel them all, and could keep them all from infecting her—but she couldn't really keep the atmosphere from amping up her nerves and excitement. She was really looking forward to tonight.

She blushed as he slid the corsage onto her wrist. Touching was like a forbidden fruit (or water to her fire) but this was...really nice. She enjoyed it, feeling the sensation of his fingers on her wrist, however light they were. “It's so pretty,” she murmured, dazed by the fact her date had given her a corsage. That was movie stuff. Not happens-to-Ann stuff. “I'd like that, yeah,” she nodded when he suggested they get some snacks and a table. Ann had been eating like a bird today, her appetite had been failing her because of all the emotions she was burning through, she'd been to anxious to remain calm. She could do with some unhealthy snacking. She licked at her lips as Alex led the way over to the table and she tried to keep her hands from shaking as she got a plate and picked out the delicious looking snacks and finger sandwiches.

Once the two were seated, Ann took a small sip of her punch, she trusted the two adults standing around the snack table would stop others from mixing anything in it, but it still pays to be cautious. She smiled slightly at Alex, “I'm really glad I came here with you.” She couldn't help but admit. So long as Zac behaves himself. Something was off, she had tasted it in the air before and she wasn't sure she liked it.

[Darryl Bond]

Standing in the auditorium now, he thought back to his Hammel days. He was the kid that he was charged to spot and punish. He was the one that snuck alcohol into the punch bowl and flirted with the chaperons distract them from some form of debauchery, or another. The one student that he was looking out for most, was Sam Rixon. If he didn't try to spike the punch, then his weird looking friend, Vex or something would. He knew how it worked, and was almost enjoying himself as a chaperon. It gave him flashbacks, and a vast feeling of nostalgia.

Only now, things weren't so simple as High school (though at the time, the teenaged Darryl would have complained about his people-drama), and he wasn't in as great of shape. Not that he liked to admit. He was almost thirty! Ew, right? He wasn't ready to be thirty, as with thirty came even more responsibility. Society would have him get married, settle down, have kids. He already had one check on that list, but it wasn't in the parameters he would have liked. Still, he'd love the son he is going to have with Midori, and try his best to be a great father, for the baby's and his own sake. He didn't want to be the crap father that ran out on Morgan, or like his own asshole father that couldn't accept him for all that he was. He wanted to be 'that best dad of all dads,' If such a thing existed.

He liked seeing Emiko smile at his arrival. Sine their first conversation, so late at night, he liked to think the two of them were something akin to friends. He liked it even more when she blushed a little at his compliment, but he wasn't just saying it to get a reaction, she had a wonderful sense of fashion that Darryl could appreciate (because it usually involved showing those gorgeous legs of hers). Her noticing of his hair cut made him drop his head in embarrassment, but his head shot up again when she said she liked it. “Really?” He put a self conscious hand on his hat and lifted it up, to give his short hair a ruffle before he replaced the hat. If she didn't think it looked bad...then it probably didn't, which boosted his confidence.

He looked out at the crowd of students again, though a pleased little smile graced his face. She liked his hair cut. He looked back at her when she answered his first question and he nodded his head a little. As it had worked out, Darryl was also asked to chaperon, he wasn't sure of the exact reason, but he chalked it up to Karma getting a laugh. “Well we can't have these underage kids getting drunk on school campus.” Not that that had stopped him when he was a student, but only a few people at Hammel knew of his past. Namely, Morgan and Sean. “Would you like some company, while defending the punch?” He asked with a lift of his eyebrow while he spooned himself some punch as well.

[RC Manne]

Convincing Estelle to come to the dance with him had be fairly easy. Well, it was terrifying. But he didn’t really have to do any convincing. He’d asked (after a lot of stuttering) and she’d been excited to come with him. Estelle was his favorite student. She was easy to get along with and was basically the only girl RC didn’t feel like a looser-ly mess around. He didn’t really have any romantic interest in her, but he did want to have a good time with the dance, and wanted to
treat Estelle to something nice too. She deserved it after all her hard work in French!

RC opened the door to the auditorium for Estelle and smiled, patting his stomach through his maroon button-down. “God. I ate way too much, Estelle. You shouldn’t have convinced me to get dessert.” He had known the girl liked ice cream, but he hadn’t been aware just how much food she could eat. Not that he minded. He didn’t get Olive Garden much.

He smiled and entered the dance after her. Now was the hard part. The dancing part. He secretly hoped Estelle would be so popular that he’d only have to dance one or two dances with her and she could go off and have fun with someone who actually had rhythm. But that was a little selfish. Instead he opted for the compliment. “By the way, you look really nice, Estelle.” He smiled vaguely. “Do you want to get a picture?”

RC somewhere deep in his mind didn’t mind getting a picture taken, but he knew his mother would throw a hissy fit if he didn’t get one. Even just a friendly one would do, none of that hand-holdy heads together stuff.

[Tamsin Craig]

Tamsin stood awkwardly to the side, chewing her strawberry with a plan of making it last as long as possible. Sure, there were more, but she wouldn’t gobble the all up at once. Maybe she could take a few home; and maybe Cobalt would like some. She owed him a favor or two after all. She grabbed a napkin (It was cloth. Why did it have to be cloth?), and began to put food inside to take to her friend later. Strawberries, cakes, pineapple- she was choosy with what she picked up as she sorted through the food like she would at the monthly market- anything less than perfect was put back. She was trying to figure out the best way to bring hi punch when another person picking at the food spoke up.

Tamsin looked up through her bangs, frozen in place. “Paint? S’tradition. My people, wear it for parties. S’important.” The practice apparently did not extend to American dances, however. If she were anywhere else, Tamsin would have left the girl at that and wandered away. But she reminded herself that she had to make friends somehow, so she extended her hand across the table awkwardly. “My name’s Tamsin. ‘M fifteen. Who’re you?” She had thoroughly butchered the greeting but she didn’t know it- she thought people extended greetings and names and ages all at once. Her frank question tacked on almost as an afterthought was a final nail in the coffin- if the girl walked away at that very moment it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone but Tamsin. Still, the aborigine girl kept her hand extended until it was shaken, smiling as best as she could. In reality, she was worried.

The girl mentioning the paint made Tamsin even more nervous- it meant that it was so out of place that it needed to be mentioned. Was it really that bad? Should she go to the bathroom and wash it off? Tamsin took a look in the punch bowl and saw the dots under her eye for her sisters. She blinked and decided that no, she would wear it. And she would be proud. She picked up her satchel of stolen food and tied the napkin up, then sat it on the table between the punch bowl and the plate of chips. It looked like a decoration- no one would mess with it.

She remembered the slip of paper and looked from it to the girl before her face brightened noticeably. Maybe she would know her ‘date’. “D’you know Ashley Shaw? I been looking for ‘er.” Her broken English was obvious, but her determination to find her date and ride this whole mess out was admirable at best. She’d find this ‘Ashley’. Even if her date was a girl. She would have fun with this Ashley and they’d be friends and she’d teach her all the tricks to being a cool, American girl. Then she would tell Cobalt, and he’d be impressed, and her Mama would be impressed, and the school would be impressed too, so impressed that they’d let her go.

Oh, the fantasies of children.

[jinkyung]

Three paces into the the entrance way, and it was already packed with students and teachers alike. Everyone had tried their best to look all dolled up, and most of them had succeeded in doing so. Jin took a brief second from where he was standing to try and look above all the bobbing heads in the entrance hall. There were blondes, brunettes, noires and even some people with little to no hair at all. Poor them. He gently patted his own hair, remembering it was there, and exhaled relief to feel it. He honestly had no idea what he would do without it, he'd look far too mean for anyone, and would fit better as a cell mate than anything else.

Finding some familiar faces, JJ considered walking towards them, but he realized they were deep in conversation with others, so he drifted away from them as a result. There had to be someone he knew or knew of that wasn't completely engrossed in dialogue..time to cover the perimeter. By doing so, he had a higher likelihood, or at least he hoped he did, of someone that he knew, he might also get a better view of the room if he could gander a bit. The room was sort of like a rectangle, although there were cuts in and out of this rectangle making it more of a general polygon than anything easily recognizable. Alright, there's gotta be someone... JJ decided to pick up the pace, and weave himself around the crowded edges, full of people too shy or nervous to dance, as their partners either eagerly coaxed them out to the floor or stood awkwardly next to them. As for JJ, he wouldn't wait around in a situation like that. If they didn't want to dance, they could watch. He would be out on the dance floor in no time, breakdancing and causing a scene; what naturally came to him would be implemented nearly immediately. He knew he was the best in the school, maybe even this whole darn town. That being said, nothing could or would stop him from showing off his --

Ooof. With little time to react, JJ make a split jaunt of his body and tried to regain balance before he would fall to the floor. Luckily it worked, and he was able to pick himself back up again before making a complete fool of himself. What or who did he hit? Was he paying attention? Better yet, were they paying attention? Still, he should check for any human effected with a similar blow around him, just to make sure he didn't run into a table or anything. He swiftly spun around, looking for signs of life form, and there she was, the other victim to that rather over exaggerated event. She was very pale, and from it looked like, she'd been hit in the stomach, probably by his elbow or arm or any part of his body that had some kind of blunt edge. And...she did not look happy. This was not the time to point fingers, but rather to try and fix what had been done, he moved on over to her, rested a hand on her shoulder and exclaimed, "Please forgive me, I did not mean to do such a thing to you. I suppose...I was not paying attention. Are you alright?"

Me oh my, was he coming off as a softy. If it were anyone else, especially a male, he would automatically assume that it had been the opposing team's fault, and might not even apologize. But for her, he would. JJ wondered if that inkling of sadness and disappointment was from him or from something previous. If it was the latter, maybe he could make conversation from it, although it were from just him and his clumsiness, that might be a bit more difficult to start up a conversation from.

[Evan Brackett]

((Continued from Dressing Up))

Evan walked along side Robbie with his arms crossed, still huffy about going to the dance. He had long since convinced himself that he looked awful in the outfit that the blond had thrown together. The borrowed shirt he was wearing was tighter than what he was accustomed to and it only became less comfortable the longer he wore it. The slacks, also borrowed, were too short for his long legs. He didn’t have any dress shoes or a jacket, so he was forced to wear his regular tennis shoes and a hoodie. On top of being uncomfortable and looking terrible, he definitely did not want to be here. But most of all, he hated that he let Robbie talk him into going.

He couldn’t help giving Levi an apologetic smile as he glanced to the side. Poor guy. Evan had dragged him into this too, and he still felt guilty about asking the other boy to tag along. It was comforting to have Levi there, however. All the smiles the brunette had cracked since Robbie had pulled them out of their dorm had been for Levi.

After the boys had arrived at the dance, Evan wasted no time in nabbing a chair. He made sure that it was as far away from the dance floor as possible, because if he was going to brood about being here, he was going to make sure that Robbie didn’t have the opportunity to drag him out onto the dance floor. Of course, in the realm of Evan doing things for Robbie in order to keep the boy happy, Robbie was winning.

[Levi Xu]

Levi was less convinced than this friend about their appearance. Sure, he'd argued Robbie down from borrowing his roommate's pants and had gone instead for his own black jeans and sneakers, along with the borrowed dark gray shirt, and light gray sweater. They were nice looking, but not at all the classic definition of "formal", so he looked around nervously at all of the guys in nice suits and the girls in pretty dresses. "Isn't this supposed to be something like prom? Will they let us in like this?"

Thankfully, no one questioned them, and he pulled up a chair next to Evan. Levi scanned the room, seeking out the people he knew. Sammy, of course, was stumbling around. (Was he drunk and/or high? Probably. It would be funny to go talk to him later.)

[Mia Keystone]

Mia was, perhaps, foolhardy. But she was by no means stupid. When L.C's infamous spikes started showing she knew better then to goad the human porcupine any further. The technopath was quite fond of her face, and she had read all about L.C's little problems in the past with face destroying.

Still, she got the message Reeve sent, the codes going straight through her brain and she quickly smirked at Reeve's comment about ehr dress and gave the boy a quick shove towards Zac. And she may have shoved harder then necessary because, after all, her dress was incredibly amazing and even in jest it was not to be insulted. With satisfaction she watched him plant the bug, then turned as Stella went to leave and waved goodbye.

"Pity. She would make an amazing nightlight," she mused, just before L.C dragged Zac away. Mia wasn't fussed. She could still hear anything the animal mimic happened to say in her nifty little earpiece. Well, part one was done, and it had gone swimmingly. Now left alone with her 'date', Mia helped haul Reeve back up (whether her assistance had been wanted or not) and looked around again. Ginny and Jonah should have rocked up in the time it took to antagonise two of the more well known faces at Hammel.

Jonah had a habit of standing out, given his hight. And his ears. But Mia had never seen him in a suit before, and when she finally saw him with Ginny and went to wave, she suddenly stopped. Her victory smirk slid off her face like rainwater on a windowpane. Fuck. Like a wet dog she shook the shock off and grabbed Reeve's hand, even as her heart did it's stupid drunk frog leap/flop.

"Come on, found them," she said quickly, tugging Reeve over to her friends. "Ginny, Jonah, meet Reeve." she pointed at the people in question, grinning slightly at the headband she had insisted Ginny wear with her dress. "Reeve, this is Gin, and Jonah."

They could sort out if they liked each other or not; Mia liked them all so they would have to learn to get along. "Zac and Alex are set, and the way Zac's glaring at the midget man" because Mia made fun of people for being short no matter what, "we are so heading for a punch up."

The tiny girl was smirking like a mad man, clearly finding this idea hugely amusing. "I have the best idea ever. The. Best. Idea. Ever," she sent Jonah a quick don't even start on how these turn out look because Jonah would know her saying that always lead to chaos. Always.

"Come, dance. Stay away from the punch," she added, sending a look to Emiko who was watching the bowl like it might explode. "Because I am pretty sure people expect me to spike it."

Like Mia would waste alcohol on the general student population. Ha.


(ooc: team, shall I start a thread for these four outside the entrance one?)

[Robbie Wilkes]

The dull bass beat of the music coming from the auditorium got Robbie spazzing along the corridor as Evan, Levi and himself made their way over to the dance. The music got louder with every step - or leap in Robbie's case - they took and finally Robbie couldn't even hear himself speak. To say he was excited would probably be an understatement. He quickly pulled Evan and Levi in an awkward sideways hug before entering the glitzed up hall.

At Levi's question, Robbie shrugged. "I'm sure they don't mind. I mean...shirts are formal!" Robbie was determined that they were. At least they weren't there in jeans and t-shirt. And he thought they all looked good regardless. Since he had dragged the two of them over here, Robbie decided to follow where Evan and Levi went, which was to the tables. His body didn't stop moving as the music continued playing. He was pretty glad it was still upbeat songs because he was not going to start slow dancing right then.

[Emiko Nakajima]

As Darryl lifted his fedora to reveal all of his hair, Emiko appraised it and nodded. “Really.” She confirmed. “It’s quite nice. Makes you look more professional. Where did you get it done?” She asked curiously, playing with a strand of her own mane. If the Japanese woman had known the full story behind the haircut, she would’ve laughed and chalked up his luck to someone upstairs looking out for him. As it was, she thought it was slightly vain of him to get his hair cut up for a simple school function. She didn’t mind it, though, like she had said before, it looked quite good on him. She also noticed the dye job and was impressed with it too, but she never dyed her hair so she didn’t have much to say about that. It wasn’t graying and it was still a nice glossy black, so she didn’t see a point in doing it. Bleaching it even a nice brown would kill her a little bit on the inside.

Had Emiko known why he liked her outfit, she would’ve felt exposed- she always thought her legs were her worst feature. She thought they were fat and that her knees looked odd, and that was why she wore long stockings so much. She was getting away with nude-colored pantyhose at the moment, but she still felt conscious as she rubbed the back of her leg. She was getting itchy. Not good at all. She looked away from Darryl and scanned the party, noting the teens that looked like troublemakers. Some of them were dressed very fine, and others barely qualified as dressed- she eyes a girl in a sweatshirt at the snack table with an arched eyebrow before returning her gaze back to her friend.

“Hmm? Oh, no. That would not be good.” She agreed, taking a sip of her drink. “Untrained meta-human students with potentially lethal powers running around inebriated and confused… It sounds like a politically incorrect horror film waiting to happen.” She chuckled and watched him serve himself a drink, grinning at his humor. This was why she liked Darryl; unlike many Americans, she could tell when he was joking. He was easy to talk to and he seemed to understand her well enough. She wondered what would happen if she started speaking to him in Japanese. It was tempting to try, but she decided to abstain from confusing him for now. There would come a time when he would deserve it- she’d enact her language revenge then.

She nodded a tad bit enthusiastically, then toned herself down a bit before continuing. Her grin shrunk to a manageable size, her demeanor returned to the cool professional look it ordinarily was. “That would be nice. I’m warning you though, it’s a brutal job. The benefits are slim and the risks are high.” She arched a brow and smirked, gesturing to her cup. “I mean, look at what we’re drinking. It’s walking a line between life and death, I’m telling you.” She took a sip of the red tangy drink and smiled again. “See, that is just the luck of the draw. That could have killed me right there.” She attempted to keep her voice low so none of the students would overhear- some of the younger ones did not take jokes very well.

[L.C. Milliner]

L.C. was very pleased when the pair moved away for a small brat toward the dance floor, even if she had been avoiding it earlier. The fast songs had stopped for the time being, and as they made their way out something slow was starting. Oh God. It was the dreaded time. Could she slow dance with Zac and not fail miserably? Thank god he was taller than her, she could look at his neck instead of his face and nothing would seem amiss. Even in heels she was shorter than him, and even in her twenty pound dress she was still lighter. What did she last weigh in at? One hundred fifteen?

Zac’s mention of her chopping his balls off made L.C. snicker, but when he uttered the word ‘kiss’, she stopped abruptly and suddenly found her dress much more interesting to look at. The more he said, the redder her face got- and she knew it was getting red. Thank god that under the lights and the makeup Zac couldn’t really tell, except when it crept down her neck. She forced herself to stay calm and forced out a witty come back. “Not even if you paid me. And that’s just to be your girlfriend. As for the bodyguard... Eh. You couldn’t afford me.” She shot him a lazy grin, even though behind it she was as tense as a thespian on opening night. Again, she was asking herself why she had jumped headlong into this situation. She certainly did not care for him- no more than an average person, anyway. Hell, Vincent was higher up on her list of people to care about, and that was saying something.

When they finally stepped into the dance floor, L.C. gulped and looked around. A slow song had just ended and a new one was starting up, just in time for the couple her and Zac to jump in. Most of the girls were pressed very close to their boyfriends, but there was no way in hell she would get that close to Zac without living up to her ‘Iron Maiden’ sobriquet. Other girls seemed to stay farther from their dates, preferring to hold onto their shoulders and turn in slow circles. She could do that. Maybe. Turning to Zac, the girl sighed and placed her hands very lightly on his upper arms. She did not, surprisingly, keep him at arm’s length. Instead, she kept him half a length away. It was far enough to ensure he didn’t get the wrong idea but close enough to be comfortable. It was the middle distance. Perfect.

As the turned and looked around, L.C. realized with a start that the boys in the couples had their hands on the girl’s waists, and if Zac put his hands there she was going to be so freaked out. She tried not to let herself think about how they were likely already there, instead she turned back and focused very intently on the buttons of his jacket as if she was attempting to pop them off using a hidden telepathic ability she did not have before. She said nothing for a moment, merely held onto him gently as she began to relax, slowly. The threat of spiking him purely out of stress was gone, but if he did anything stupid she might prick him for it, even if it meant ruining his or her clothes.

The teen gulped, feeling awkward for not talking, and decided that she should remind him of his objective. Maybe then it wouldn’t seem awkward and she could put that kissing comment out of her mind. “So what do you plan to do about the dwarf? Lock him in a storage closet? Spill a drink on him? Deck him in the face?” (Had she known the consequences of giving Zac ideas, she might’ve held back. At the time, it seemed harmless.) She took a chance and glanced up at him, giving a devious smirk. “I could give him a hug, if you like.” Never in a thousand years. But that was a joke. Yes, L.C. made a joke. A morbid one, but it still was one. Give the girl some credit, she was trying tonight.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The Valentine’s Day dance was another Hammel tradition, much like Sean’s sexual education seminar. But unlike his seminar, the students tended to enjoy their time at the dance and they attended of their own free will. The same could not always be said of the faculty, but dances were an occupational hazard when working at a secondary school.

Sean was to chaperone because he quite literally had nothing better to do. He hadn’t been on an actual date in longer than he could remember, and he often volunteered to chaperone to allow those with personal lives the freedom to enjoy the weekend and the holiday as they would.

Besides, he had the ability to intervene before an incident erupted rather than after, and that was a useful skill.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he neglected to take a book in with him, in case the dance went off without trouble. It was an unrealistic hope, but he liked to be prepared just in case.

He’d arrived early to help set up: clearing out chairs, bringing in the refreshment tables, and other minor work. The decorations were up by the time everyone else began to file in, and he had carved himself out a chair in the corner – near the refreshment table to keep away anyone who might try to spike the punch. Like Sam or Vincent. The security staff was there in full force, which would help the night go smoothly. So he hoped.

He also had to keep an eye on L.C. who had been paired up with Zac; the telepath washed his hands of the arrangement, but it was an explosive combination. He also wanted to see how Ann was coping with her date. He peered out at the makeshift dance floor, watching the students in their typical dance behavior. This was what he wished his sister could see, to understand that the meta-students were just like everyone else, teenage awkwardness and all.

[Estelle Flores]

Estelle was excited. She usually made it a practice to go to school dances and other functions, but usually with a pack of girls. Last year, she went with Ruthie and a few other female acquaintances. This would be the first time she went to the dance with an actual date. Granted, RC was adorable and she was only too happy to go with him, but she wasn’t actually interested in him. No, he was a friend and a good French tutor and she really wanted to go to the dance. So, dressed in a pink dress that she had picked out with the help of Ruth, Estelle was ready to have a great time.

She laughed merrily at RC’s joking complaint. “You big wuss,” She teased gently, giving him a light punch on the arm, “Whatever happened to guys having, like, bottomless appetites? I could totally eat you under the table.” She laughed again, surveying the dance, “Wow, everything looks great.”

Estelle smiled warmly, “Aww, thanks RC. You look nice too. Maroon’s a good color on you.” At his suggestion, she brightened, “Ooh, that’s a good idea. Let’s do that before the line gets too long.”

There was a line anyways, but Estelle didn’t mind waiting. She was, in truth, a little anxious to get to the dancing part of the dance. She loved to dance, but it was more the flailing-madly-in-pajamas dancing than the in-front-of-people dancing. Still, she was determined to make this a good time for everyone. RC included. She scanned the crowd for anyone she knew.

[Sawyer Carson]

This was a bang up evening. Her high had hit and she barely cared about it. No one to talk to. Punch was guarderd as if the queen of england were bathing in it. Her brother was a tit for not wanting to ever leave his room. And were was that Luke kid? He was always at least nice to look at while standing around doing nothing. Sighing, Sawyer pushed away from the punch bowl and went into the bathroom. When she came out she'd finished the flask from her jacket pocket and stashed it behind a toilet. Not to mention half the stash under her left breast was now surging into her blood stream.

Ahh... That felt so much better. With a smile I took my coat off and set it on a chair near the door. What in hell was she thinking. Coming to a social event. This was maddening. No one wanted to talk to her she was scary. Her imagination was running wild and she didn't even know it. Nothing came through very clearly though. Sometimes a little blur of white noise showed up in a corner. Once in the punch bowl, but then they died out. Just the little pixel stuff on the screen when your TV goes out.

Miss Carson made her way to a very specific person now. Her whole aura sparking with little blips of the white noise imagination leeks as she liked to call them. "Dr. Neville. Lovely evening isn't it." She spoke clearly and not slurred like most anyone would be. Sawyer held her substances rather well actually. Sitting beside the telepathic psycologist, Sawyer stared at him a second. "Why do we do this? You're the question guy right? The guy who as all the answers. So...Why?" She held the skirt of her dress to emphisize on her inquisition on why pathetic girls like her got all dressed up to impress when in real life it didn't matter.

[Zachary LaRousse]

It would probably make L.C.’s life a little bit easier to know that Zac didn’t actually see her blush, nor did he pick up on the anxiety and confusion she’s feeling as she dragged him to the dance floor and the music slowly shifted from being a fast-paced party one to a more solemn, supposedly romantic, slow song. If it’s because his mind is still on the whole ‘Ann-choosing-the-Drawf-over-him-issue’ or it’s just because he never really expected such emotions to come from the assumed school bully (he’s been around her a bit too much to know that she’s more bark than bite, most of the time at least). He’s grown fond of L.C., yes (a fact that he usually expresses through his constant jabs at how she looks and hw people interact with her) – and due to his twisted mind, believes that she’s grown fond of him too – but that doesn’t mean he’d be willing to go all out on his teasing, as compared to the playful mocking he does with JD, for example. After all, even a tamed dog can still deliver a powerful bite, and L.C. was far from being tame.

“Pffft Lyr-L.C..” How he’s always on the danger zone because of such a simple (almost) slip still amuses him. It’s a good thing he catches himself (most of the time) right before he says he ‘a’ really. “You haven’t even seen me try yet.” He gave L.C. a knowing nod, telling her that once he tries, she won’t have the power to say no, not one bit. Not that he’s really serious about hiring L.C. or anything – girlfriend, bodyguard or otherwise. Then again, if L.C. offers herself as such, Zac couldn’t see why not.

It was when the next slow song started however, when Zac started seeing how awkward L.C.’s feeling. While he couldn’t see her blush because of the lights, he did notice how her eyes darted to and fro, as if checking out what the people around them are doing. It took a while for her arms to settle on his shoulders and she looked mighty jumpy as he gently placed his arms on her waist. “I think I might’ve found the Iron Maiden’s weakness,” he teased, leaning a bit closer to whisper as he thinks that the music, despite being soft, is still a bit too loud for them to hold a coherent conversation. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for L.C.; he could feel how out of place she feels around all the couples right now. “Who knew slow music can disrupt your iron spikes and your scary exterior?” he chuckled, slowly leading L.C. across the dance floor, “Just follow my lead. We’ll reinvent your ‘Iron Maiden’ image tonight. Make it ‘terrifying and sexy’ instead of simply being ‘terrifying’. So stop being such a weak puss and just go along with it.” Who knew dancing with L.C. could provide such a delightful distraction from all the high school drama Zac’s gotten himself in lately?

L.C.’s comment, however, brought him back to reality and, well, let’s just say that it wasn’t such a good idea, especially when Zac just got his mind off it a few seconds ago. “He could fit a jewelry box you know,” he sneered, sending another glare to the boy who so conveniently popped up with Ann just a few paces from them, “And spilling a drink on him is too childish, even for you. So I guess I’ll go with decking. It would be such an improvement on his face you know.” (Don’t worry L.C., he won’t incriminate you; he may be shallow but he’s not that shallow, hopefully). At the mention of the hug though, his face turned into a rather sour frown. “I’d usually approve of that, but I’d rather not lose a girl to Dopey again.” It was a matter of pride now, him being a guy and him being Zac.

“You’re mighty concerned about what I’d do with Alex lately. Could it be that you’ve got hots for him and you’re acting as a spy to prevent a disaster from falling onto him?” A random tease, but hey, who knows, the shoe might fit. (As it was, Zac’s the king of obliviousness when it comes to L.C.)