Chapter Twenty-Seven: Debutante

As the boys approached the girls' dorm, a heavy silence fell over them. Dylan could feel his heart pounding as the thought of the Formal Ball consumed his mind. They reached the door, and Dylan hesitated before knocking. Inside, they could hear muffled laughter.

Sophie opened the door with a wide grin. "Well, well, look who's here."

"We have some questions," Dylan muttered.

Sophie smirked. "We figured. Come in."

The boys shuffled into the room, each of them nervously fidgeting. They exchanged anxious glances as they sat down, the tension between them palpable.

Olivia, sitting cross-legged on one of the beds, eyed them with amusement. "So, what's on your mind?"

"The Ball," Aaron blurted, twirling his hair, a new nervous habit he picked up. "We... don't know what to expect. Ms. Abbott hasn't exactly explained much."

"We figured you'd ask about this soon... the famous Debutante Ball," Olivia said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on the bed. "It's the highlight of the semester. Or, should I say, the test of the semester?"

"Test..." Marcus repeated, his voice uneasy. "Yeah, Abbott mentioned it's the mid-term or something?"

Sophie chuckled, clearly enjoying their discomfort. "Sure is."

Dylan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, picking at the hem of his skirt. "But... what are we supposed to do?"

Olivia grinned mischievously. "Well, it's simple. Crestwood invites a few boys from nearby private schools—or sometimes the sons of staff members—and you'll be expected to socialize with them during the social hour. You know, small talk, pleasantries—basic etiquette. Then, after that, the real fun begins."

"Fun?" Dylan asked, his voice full of skepticism.

Sophie nodded, barely hiding a smile. "One of the boys will ask you to dance and you'll politely  accept while offering out your hand. He'll guide you out unto the floor and you two will dance the night away and live happily ever after!"

Aaron's eyes widened in panic. "Dance?! We have to dance with those guys?"

"Oh, don't worry," Olivia said, biting back a laugh. "You'll have plenty of time to practice. The whole week leading up to the Ball is basically dedicated to learning the dance. You'll be professional little waltzer by the end of it."

Aaron's fingers twisted faster through his hair, his face growing pale. "I... can't dance."

Kyle, tapping his foot nervously. "Neither can I."

"And what if we mess up?" Dylan questioned.

Sophie and Olivia exchanged an exaggerated, sympathetic look. "Well," Sophie began slowly, "the teachers will be watching. You'll be graded on everything: your posture, your disposition, how well you interact with your partner. But don't worry," she added with a wink, "you're mostly just following their lead."

Dylan felt his stomach flip. This was sounding worse by the second. He could tell the others were feeling the same by how they shifted in their seats, fidgeting and tapping away their anxiety.

"Wait," Marcus interrupted, suddenly suspicious. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Olivia smiled innocently. "Maybe a little."

Kyle groaned, slumping back against the wall. "This is going to be a disaster."

"Oh, it gets better," Sophie said, her tone light but teasing. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?"

The boys blinked at her, clearly caught off guard. "Wear?" Dylan asked, frowning. "We... haven't really thought about that."

"Of course you haven't," Olivia said with a giggle. "But it's important. The ball is formal, which means you'll need to be dressed appropriately. And by appropriately, I mean a full-length ball gown."

Aaron's hand froze in his hair. "A ball gown?"

Sophie nodded. "Yup. And don't forget the jewelry and makeup. Oh, and you'll need to make sure your hair is styled appropriately too. Long hair, like yours, Aaron? It has to be in an updo."

Aaron quickly dropped the strand hair he'd been fidgeting with. "Updo?"

Sophie grinned. "That's right. You want to pass, don't you?"

Dylan could feel the panic rising in his chest as Sophie continued. "You'll be graded on your appearance. It's not just about how well you dance or socialize. They'll be judging how well you've absorbed all the lessons on presentation. The right gown, the right jewelry, and the right hairstyle—it all matters."

"Where are we supposed to get these gowns?" Marcus asked, his voice strained with disbelief.

Olivia gave a mockingly thoughtful look. "Well, most of the girls here just ask their parents to take them shopping the weekend before. It's kind of a tradition, really."

The boys' eyes widened in horror. "We have to ask our parents to go shopping for a ball gown?" Aaron said, almost choking on the words.

"Mm-hmm," Sophie said with a smirk. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to fail."

"Fail?" Kyle repeated, his voice shaky.

Olivia leaned in, her voice lowering for dramatic effect. "If you don't show up in proper attire, you'll likely fail the Etiquette basics portion of your course load. And failing that... well, it might mean you have to stay here another semester."

The boys stared at her in stunned silence, the weight of her words sinking in.

"You're joking," Dylan finally said, his heart racing.

"Wish we were," Sophie replied, giving them a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "But don't worry. If you don't want to ask mommy and daddy to take you shopping, there's another option... if you can convince them to give you some money, we'll take you shopping ourselves. We know exactly what you'll need to get a passing grade. We're basically a cheat sheet."

The boys exchanged nervous glances, the idea of asking their parents or going shopping with Sophie and Olivia sounding equally unbearable.

"Ok... but what happens if we just show up in our uniforms?" Aaron asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

Olivia's smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression. "If you do that, you'll certainly fail. But on the bright side... you'd get to spend another semester with us!"

The boys were silent, the enormity of the situation settling in. Dylan tugged at the hem of his skirt, wishing it could somehow disappear along with all his worries about the Ball.

After what felt like an eternity, Kyle finally broke the silence. "So... if we screw this up, we could end up stuck here for another six months?"

Sophie nodded. "That's right. So, you might want to start thinking about what kind of dress you want."

The boys let out a collective groan, slumping back in defeat.

"You'll survive," Olivia said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not the end of the world."

"Damn near feels like it," Dylan muttered.

The girls chuckled as the boys slowly rose to their feet, their spirits clearly crushed.

"Just let us know when you're ready for that shopping trip," Sophie called out as they headed for the door. "We'll make sure you look classy."

The boys barely mumbled a response as they left, heading back to the common area in silence. Dylan could feel the dread settling deeper in his bones with each step.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" he muttered to no one in particular.

"Bro, we have no choice," Aaron grumbled.

When they reached the common area, they all sat down, exhausted by the mental and emotional weight of what they'd just learned. For a moment, no one spoke.

"Let's just ignore it for now," Kyle said, breaking the silence. "We've got a week until we have to deal with it."

Dylan slowly nodded. Just as he started to enjoy his time at Crestwood, everything quickly started to fall apart. First the talent show, now a ball. He knew ignoring his worries wasn't a solution, but for now, it was all he could do.