29 - Matric Dance P1

SOLEIL

Mark steps out of the Bentley and walks around to the other side. The driver opens my door and my date stands at the ready with a proferred hand to help me out.

He's dashing in a black pin striped suit and a fedora tilted just so looking like an old Hollywood foe. I graciously accept his offer to steady myself in the new heels I have yet to break in.

They're a sparkling pair of YSL that I splurged on to match my dress which was only completed the day before. It has been fitted to perfection and hugs my slight curves. The strapless dress has a slight dip at the front giving my cleavage a nice boost considering I barely have boobs.

I'm patiently waiting for the day I graduate from a B to a C. Ironic, considering I would never wish for such a grade in any subject. However, my body is a different story.

Gugu and her team worked overtime to ensure the dress would be ready on time. The crystals and pearls have been hand-stitched and I worry that by the end of the night I might lose a few. The nude material underneath matches my skin tone almost perfectly. This dress was made for me and I absolutely adore it.

Gugu surprised me with a set of matching gloves to add to that Old Hollywood feel and I adore her even more.

My hair has been curled, clipped, cooled, and combed out. I'm glad I'm not asthmatic because the amount of hairspray used to hold it together had me coughing up a fit towards the end. The stylist went with a side part and a lace headpiece to keep the hair away from my face.

I wanted to keep my makeup minimal with a dramatic cat eye and bold, red lip but otherwise I haven't contoured my face. I decided on a set of pearl earrings to complete the look, and damn do I look good if I do say so myself.

The matric dance committee, which consists of some Grade 11's, form a line to usher us to the photobooth as we walk hand in hand down the red carpet. I hear a few asking each other who I am. Do I look that different that I'm beyond recognition?

Gogo and Michelle were driven in a limo with Mark's parents. They really hit it off when he came over to pick me up and I'm glad. It looks like I have the go ahead for the after party with my overnight bag in the boot of the Bentley.

They use a different entrance, and we follow the red carpet to the Hollywood set that has been laid out for a mini photo shoot complete with wallpaper, photo frames, a chaise lounge and a few props.

We stand in line behind a few other couples waiting their turn. Not everyone took a date from Milton because I genuinely don't recognise some of the people in here. I guess I can't hold it against the MDC for not knowing who I am among the new faces.

"You're definitely the best dressed," Mark says pulling me out of my thoughts. He extends his arm and steps back to check me out again.

"I think you're biased, but I appreciate it," I counter.

"Nope, you're a diamond. A black diamond - rare and underrated." He spins me around. "I'm the luckiest man in the room."

I smile at the compliment as we move up in the queue. Even though he's a flirt, I appreciate that he's a gentleman. His parents raised him well.

"OMG! I looooove your dress!" I hear a girl say.

I turn to face her. She's dressed in a fuchsia, satin dress with matching gloves that slide all the way up to her elbows. Her brunette hair is cut short and styled in finger waves. The more I look at her, the more, she looks familiar.

"Zahara?!" I call out in both question and shock. "You cut your hair?!" I notice the blush that creeps along her honey toned skin as she pats her head self-consciously. "You look stunning! I almost didn't recognise you," I add to reassure her I meant well.

"Soleil!!" she screams above the chatter, turning a few heads in our direction. "I can't even..." she takes a hold of my hands grinning like a lunatic. "You look amazing. We must get a few pictures together."

"Soleil?" Keenan's eyes bug out. "Wow! You look... different. What's up Mark?" he greets with that hand shake, half hug thing guys do.

"Wassup Boy!" Mark responds.

We chat with the couple up the line until it's our turn to take pictures. The photographer coaches us into various poses and we pull some of our own. I've never been one for photos but I'm having a good time. We take group photos with Keenan and Zahara before we move into the hall for the cocktail party.

The room is magnificent with the white drapery and chandeliers that have been hung. It buzzes with life from all the parents, guardians, professors, tutors, matrics, and their dates gathered in the space. Servers with glasses of wine and hor d'oeuvres weave between the bodies. Mark ushers us to his parents who are now talking to a couple I don't know.

"Have you seen my gran and aunt?" I ask Mrs Cohen-Madiba – Mark's mum.

She decided to double barrel her surname when she got married to preserve her Jewish ancestry. It's customary for Xhosa women to retain their clan name, even though they adopt new surnames so her husband Gcina, didn't mind.

"Last I saw them, they were headed for the bar with the Hugos, dear," she replies.

The Hugo's as in Hidde's family?

I turn in that direction and find Michelle and Gogo talking to an older gentleman with grey hair.

"I'll be back."

I quickly excuse myself heading over in their direction.

"Soleil!" My aunt says a little too excitedly, her grin looking forced as she tips the rest of her wine back. "I was hoping you would pop up soon."

"There was a queue of people waiting so the photos took a while."

"There you are nana," my gran takes a hold of my hand drawing me to her side. "I wanted to introduce you to my old friend Riaan. He and your grandfather were good friends."

"Good to see you again Soleil. What a lovely young woman you've blossomed into."

"Thank you," I reply feeling awkward, because this man seems to know me even though I don't remember meeting him.

He must have caught the uncertainty because he then goes on to add, "I think you may know my grandson, Hidde Hugo."

My eyebrows draw up in surprise and I nod my head in acknowledgement.

"Yes, the head boy."

"Ja! Where has the time gone? Remember when you and Mandla came over to the estate for a weekend and brought Maya along - may their souls rest in peace," he pats my gran's hand gently. "Soleil must have been 1 or 2 at the time. My daughter Marie was so excited for Hidde to have a playmate."

"Oh yes, they were such funny little babies. I remember they were so quiet we forgot about them only to find the mess they made colouring on your walls," adds Gogo.

The two share a laugh at my expense over a memory I cannot recall even though I'm supposedly one of the culprits mentioned.

I turn to Michelle and ask, "My mom was friends with Hidde's mum?

Michelle nods.

"Maya and I started growing apart when she met your dad. She wanted to get married and settle down. I wanted to further my studies and pursue my career. Not to mention she became friends with Man-stealing Marie," she shrugs.

A server comes around with champagne glasses on a tray and Michelle replaces her empty glass with one that's filled.

"Aunt Michelle, did Hidde's mum steal your boyfriend?" I asked confused as I try piece together how we even know the Hugos. This is all news to me.

"Nevermind. I've said too much. The past is the past," she mumbles, looking around uncomfortably.

"Where is that grandson of mine?" Mr Hugo says to no-one inparticular.

He's a tall man who towers over our little group as he scans over people's heads. Somehow, he's able to get Hidde's attention with a simple glance and I see him making his way over to us with Brice in tow.

My heart rate kicks up.

I can't say I've not thought about him until now because that would be a lie. He's never far from my thoughts and fantasies when I'm alone and memories of us sharing a bed and in the shower assuage me.

Thankfully, these past couple of days have been busy enough to keep those thoughts at bay, especially today. But now that he's here and drawing near I can't help feeling nervous.

He said he'd miss me when I left and dare I say, I've missed him too.

"Nceba, I don't know if you remember Hidde or if you've met my other grandson, Brice."

"Hawu! Hidde!" she exclaims, squeezing his arm and thankfully not his cheeks. "He's so big now! And I don't think I've met this one," Gogo continues, turning to Brice to give him a motherly hug.

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am," says Hidde looking a bit embarrassed yet smiling politely.

"Yes, what a pleasure," murmurs Brice even though his eyes are stayed on mine.

Why is he looking at me like that?

I break his steel gaze and trail my eyes down the swimmers build I've gotten to know so well these past few weeks. He's dressed in a black three-piece suit with a deep red tie and pocket square. The brooch chain tied to his lapel is elegant but it's the anchors of the shirt collar chain that stand out of the ordinary.

His black brogues are polished to a high shine and as he inches closer to me, his cologne wafts up my nose. He smells of money.

Damn.

Despite how well Brice wears a suit nothing compares to how devastating his face is.

His hair looks darker than black slicked back with a thick set of eyebrows to match. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul and his are as mesmerising as ever - a shocking grey mix of danger and seduction. I feel them travel up and down my body before shortly meeting mine once more.

He draws in that thick, pink bottom lip and a rush of heat flows from my core to my cheeks. I wonder if he like what he sees.

It feels like we're the only two people in the room until Mr La Buscagnes, the principal, calls for the crowd's attention as he steps onto the podium and turns on the Mike. I gather my senses and turn to concentrate on what he has to say.

"I'd like to thank the PTA for their cooperation not just this year but every year we have combined our efforts to place education at the forefront. Thank you to the MDC for not only proposing the theme of the night but executing it with such high attention to detail. May those that come after you live up to the standard you have set.

I feel a warm hand rest of my back and trail down until it rests just above my ass. I take a deep breath and try calm my racing heart.

I don't dare look up.

I know it's Brice.

His cologne smells even stronger and I feel the warmth of his body heat as he draws closer. I try focus on the principal instead of the guy that does crazy things to me.

"And finally thank you to the matrics for your tenacity in the final stretch of your high school career. It's not about how you start but how you finish. Looking around, I see a spectacular class of young men and women who will make Milton proud when the results are released in the new year."

A round of applause echoes around the room.

"I'd like to give a special thank you to the Le Roux family for their donation of the maze garden that is currently under construction and will be unveiled in the year to come. It is only through such patronage that the school continues to expand and grow not just in excellence but prestige."

Another round of applause is had.

"The rest of the night is strictly reserved for our matrics, but before we bid good night to the adults can we request the parents to stay for two special dances starting with the Mother/Son Dance."

The MDC dressed in all white stand out from the servers dressed in all black.

They form a ring in the center pushing the crowd back to create a dance floor. I see Mark step forward with his mom and notice Brice and Hidde have left our group to join theirs. His departure is immediately felt with the cool air that takes his place.

The music rises in a soft instrumental melody as the boys lead their mothers in dance. Some of the mom's look a little teary eyed but everyone has a smile on their face.

My eyes volley between Brice, Hidde, and Mark's moms. They all look so sophisticated, and I can't help but wonder what it was like raising those three who are such different people from different cultures who happened to converge at this point tonight.

The music fades out and Mr La Buscagnes announces another dance - the Father/Daughter Dance.

My throat clogs up when I look around and see the dads stepping into the circle with their girls in tow.

I was always a daddy's girl.

I quickly look for an exit because I think I may lose it and start bawling my eyes out when I remember losing mine. I'm moving through the crowd and soon find myself in the breezy outdoors taking deep breathes in an attempt to hold my tears back. I do not want to ruin my make-up over something I can't change.

I don't notice the person that follows me out as I try and pull myself together. I hear their footfalls drawing closer and turn to see who it is only for my vision to blur.

I walk further away from the hall and onto the expansive lawn.

"I'll be right back. I just need a minute," I call out.

I tip my head back and close my eyes, willing the tears to withdraw and not fall. I try and think of happy thoughts. Okay maybe mundane ones. I settle on formulas until a pair of hands wrap around my waist.

I want to protest but I don't have the energy right now especially when he pulls my body flush against his and the cologne that has been teasing me wraps around me in a warm embrace.

"I'm fine," I say not sure if I'm trying to convince him or myself.

"It's okay if you aren't."

His smooth voice whispers in my ear and sends a shiver down my back. Even though I know who it is, I'm not ready to face him so I keep my eyes closed.

BRICE

I stare down at Soleil's upturned face.

I know she's upset.

I could hear the shakiness in her voice when she spoke. I've seen her fears and watched her tears in the memory walk. It didn't take me long to figure out why she left the Father/Daughter Dance.

Her memory plays out in my mind as if it were my own - the image of a kneeling man taking a bullet to the head followed by the woman beside him.

I guess she was strong enough to endure one dance but not another.

She comes across as this independent individual who has her shit together, but she also hides a lot. Based on the mask of impassivity on her face, I doubt she would let me or anyone else for that matter see her otherwise. Everyone knows she's smart, but I wonder how many people know she's an orphan.

It doesn't matter. It's none of their business.

I hold her a little tighter, squeeze her a little harder.

She's so beautiful. More beautiful than I remember.

Tonight, she looks like a star and shines like one too in this dress. If I could make a wish upon her it would be that she'd never leave me even though I have no plans of letting her go. Come hell or high water, she's stuck with me.

I try not to, but I'm a man and not even one of the good ones. I trail my gaze down from her perfectly arched brows, the planes of her smooth, brown face, plump red lips, and further down to the slope of her neck and the curves of her breasts. The baser part of me roars in appreciation.

She's a perfect ten and she's mine. From her lips to the god's ears, she's promised herself to me even though she doesn't behave like it.

I'd given her space as I prepared for my trials as well as this damn dance. My mother and Hailey insisted on going to Paris for our apparel. I humored their request but was mainly there to complete certain rites of passage as an initiate according to Thierry.

I didn't realise how much I'd missed her until I saw her. Hidde walking over to grand-père who was chatting with her family gave me the excuse I needed to go over the them.

I lean down and inhale that intoxicating scent that is unique to her. The pulse at her neck quickens exciting me even more.

"I'm fine," she repeats.

"Oh, I know," I mutter still unable to take my eyes off her.

I could see her rolling her eyes behind her closed lids which makes me laugh. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips. The curtains of her thick lashes slowly lift and those soulful, brown eyes stare deeply into mine searching, for what, I don't know.

I move back and turn her around to face me. Taking out the handkerchief from my breast pocket, I tipped her head back and dab at the corner of her eyes.

"What are you doing? You're going to get my make-up all over your pocket square."

She grabs a hold of my wrists in an attempt to pull my hands back. How cute that she thinks she can overpower me.

"It's a handkerchief and they were made to clean up messes. Now hold still before I wipe everything off."

Soleil stops trying to manhandle me but doesn't move her hands. She's strong in will but weak in might.

There are no tear tracts on her face. The glossy sheen that was once there is gone and in its place is another emotion I can't place.

I tuck the red material back in its place haphazardly. That illicits a laugh from her. She takes it out and refolds it, placing it back in my breast pocket.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

You're welcome.

Anytime.

It's a pleasure.

Always.

The responses run through my mind but I find them hard to speak. She has me dumb struck, spellbound – No!

I broke that spell and she's now under mine even though it doesn't feel that way. It feels like I'm falling into the depths of her enchanting gaze.

That smell, her scent, intensifies.

I wrap my hands around her neck tilting her head back and she wraps her hands around my wrists. She doesn't fight me or try push me away.

I feel her pulse beating beneath my thumbs.

"Soleil!"

The moment is shattered when she looks away.

Her eyes focus past me.

She tries to sidestep me, but I block her path.

"I – we have to go back."

"Soleil!"

It's Mark's irritating voice, sounding desperate and worried.

He should be. Where was he when she ran out? It doesn't even matter. He should go back to where he came from and stay there. I've got her.

"We're not done," I grit out, feeling my annoyance grow.

I drop my hands taking a hold her waist.

"Later. I promise. I gotta go B,"

I let her go... for now.

She promised.

B? That's new.

I stand in the cool night air wondering if it stands for Brice or something else. At least she didn't call me babe.

I guess I don't hate it.

2023 / 10 / 01

WC: 3224

Not me disappearing from updating this for a couple of months...

This part is dedicated to all the girls that lost their fathers or never knew theirs. The man I called dad passed away in January of this year. ❤

Shout out to @KongollaiseKongo who's been here from the trenches! Check out her story - Finding Love Again if you're looking for a second chance romance with an older FMC.

Currently editing Part 2 which will be posted in a couple of days.