Chapter 30
Zioh
Past
Today, our school held its first prom. The idea came from our newly elected student council president: as part of a fundraising event, the ticket sales would be donated to charity.
Everyone was buzzing with excitement. Even Zeraiah and Sophie couldn’t stop talking about it until my ears were ringing.
At first, I didn’t care much about the whole thing, but my mind changed once I realised how Sophie’s cheeks puffed and her eyes shone every time she mentioned it.
She wouldn’t stop chatting to Mum about it, which in turn led Mum to make outfits for us for the occasion.
We were supposed to go together, and if I was honest, I was even excited because I wanted to see Sophie in the beautiful gown Mum had made her. I knew she would look wonderful. But all that fell apart two days ago because Sophie came down with chickenpox.
She’d been crying in her room for two days, ignoring Tsabinu and Zeraiah’s coaxing as she stayed locked away, sobbing and sobbing.
“How do I look?” Zeraiah called from beside me. He’d been pacing in and out of Mum’s walk-in closet for the past hour, dragging me along to rate his outfit.
I nodded. “For the thousandth time, you look okay.”
Zeraiah turned, raising his brow. “Just okay?”
“You look handsome, my love,” Mum added, smoothing out the wrinkles on his navy jacket.
“Of course I am.” Zeraiah gave a cocky grin. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Anytime, star boy.”
He then looked from me to the suit hanging neatly in front of him, the one Mum had made for me. His was navy, mine was jet black. His eyes lingered on me. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
I shook my head and reached for the suit. “Yes. Have fun.”
He shot me a questioning look. “Why did you put so much emphasis on those words?”
Shrugging, I stepped out of Mum’s closet. “Because sometimes you confuse the word fun with something else.”
I caught his infuriating smirk in the mirror’s reflection before I left altogether. “Talk to yourself,” he muttered, smug as ever.
Mum tugged his ear. “Zeraiah, I meant it. Behave yourself.”
Zeraiah gave her a dry laugh. “Don’t worry, Mum, I’m always a polite and well-behaved boy.”
I shook my head and walked further out of our parents’ room. I got into the lift, descended to the third floor, and made my way to my room. I grabbed a few tote bags I’d prepared since this morning and made my way towards the door. But as I was about to leave, Mum appeared.
“Hey, honey, is Biba alright?” she asked, her face full of worry as she leaned against the doorway behind her.
I gave a faint shake. “She’s not. She won’t come out of her room.”
She nodded, sadness softening her features. “Poor baby. She was so excited about this.”
“I know,” I agreed. “She really loved the dress you made her, Mum.”
Mum smiled, but her worry lingered. She walked up to me and handed me another tote bag.
I looked at her, puzzled, waiting for an explanation.
“Chocolate,” she said. “Tell Biba this is the new cocoa powder Grandma Morag brought back from Switzerland. Tell her this one’s a thousand times better.
” She gave me a slight smile and brushed my cheek. “Cheer her up, will you?”
I returned her smile. “Don’t worry, Mum.”
“My sweet boy,” she said again, softer this time. “You both are so precious.”
? ── * ── ?
A few minutes later, I stood outside Sophie’s room. My knocking had gone unanswered.
“Sophie?” I called again, unable to hold back my worry. “Sorry, but if you don’t answer in the next ten seconds, I’m opening the door, alright?”
She was alone in the house tonight. Well, not entirely alone; Mbak Mayang was with her.
Her parents were in Jogja because her mother had a performance, and Tsabinu was in another city for a competition.
Mbak Mayang had told me that Sophie had taken her medicine and was probably asleep, but I didn’t buy it. She wasn’t sleeping. She was crying.
Still no answer. I raised my voice. “Sophie? I’m coming in, okay?”
When I stepped inside, the pink glow of her room was swallowed by darkness, leaving only the faint, ethereal light spilling from the star stickers on the ceiling.
I glanced around, my chest tightening until I spotted her.
She curled up on the bed in her long pink jumper and shorts, her face buried deep into a pillow, and her shoulders shaking.
I walked over and sat down at the edge of her bed. “Hey… Are you okay?”
Sophie sniffled, her breath catching between sobs, and she shook her head.
“Can I do something about it?”
Another shake. “It only happens once, and I can’t even go.”
I leaned closer. “You know, you don’t have to go to a prom to dance.”
“Still, Zioh,” she replied, barely audible.
I let out a shallow breath. “Prom isn’t just at school. In the future, we might be able to attend a much better dance party than this one.”
She stayed quiet for a long moment, and the only sound was her soft sobbing.
“I was so excited to go to the prom with you,” she whispered. “Mama Nadine even made the gown and the suit for us.”
“I know,” I coaxed. “That’s why I’m here.”
Her voice cracked. “Yeah… why are you even here? You should be off at school with Zeraiah by now.”
“How could I?” I asked. “When my partner is right here.”
That made her pause and turn her head towards me.
Finally. I slipped my hand into the inner pocket of my suit and took out a pink box.
“This flower is meant to be fastened upon your hand anyway,” I added, meeting her gaze as I lifted my corsage for her—a blooming pink carnation, crafted by my own hands.
Only for her.
She was still sniffling, but now her warm hazel eyes narrowed at me in the dark. She raised a brow. “Why are you wearing your suit?”
Leaning closer, I gently brushed away the tears from her swollen eyes. Her face was still flushed, dotted with blemishes, and her skin was warm. Finally, this beauty was willing to look at me after being locked in her room for the past 24 hours.
A small smile curved on my face. “Because we’re going to dance?” I whispered.
Her brow shot up higher. “You’re going? It’s fine, you don’t have to—”
“I told you,” I interrupted, “to dance, you don’t need to go to a prom.”
She fell silent again, watching me. I smiled and reached for the tote bag I had brought. I pulled a CD from inside and held it up for her to see. I had spent hours yesterday rummaging through Tsabinu’s room to find it.
It was an orchestral disc featuring music from the film Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire—including the Yule Ball symphony, one of Sophie’s favourite scenes. That was why I searched for it secretly while my best mate was away.
The moment Sophie realised what I was holding, her face lit up. She sat up on the bed, eyes sparkling. “Why are you holding Mas Bibu’s orchestra CD?”
I smiled, warmth spreading through me. “Wanna put your beautiful dress on?”
Her mouth fell open as the meaning sank in. Then, all at once, she nodded and squealed. “Of course!!” She threw off her blanket and hopped off the bed. “Wait for five—no, seven minutes. No, ten—”
“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” I said with a relieved smile. Finally, the sunshine that always calmed me was back on her face, and I couldn’t ask for more. “Take all the time you want.” Tonight, it is all for you. “It’s all yours.”
Still beaming, Sophie dashed into her walk-in closet, leaving me smiling. Once she disappeared into the closet, I got to work. I slipped the CD into her CD player, waiting until the orchestra concert appeared on the TV screen, then skipped forward to the “Potter Waltz” song performance.
Looking around, I spotted her desk. I quickly cleared away her books, stacked them neatly on the shelves, then pulled out a large white tablecloth I brought and spread it across the surface. Once the table was dressed, I unpacked the food and drinks I’d bought earlier and arranged them.
From another bag, I pulled out Zeraiah’s galaxy projector light. I plugged it in, and the room transformed at once. It was no longer dim and heavy but awash with soft purples and muted pinks, blending with the glow of the stars on the ceiling.
Calming. Magical. Just like her.
As everything was set, Sophie emerged from the walk-in closet after twenty minutes, looking beautiful. Her pink gown flowed down to her ankles, her heels matching perfectly. She had even pinned her hair up, pearl earrings glinting as they caught the light.
Her eyes widened in awe as she looked around the transformed room, her mouth falling open. “Zi… What is this?”
I walked up to her. “Prom,” I whispered, gently brushing the red spots on her beautiful face with my fingers. She had felt so miserable these past few days.
“Prom?” she echoed, still staring in disbelief.
I nodded. “Yes. Prom. But this one’s more special.” I took her hand and held her gaze. “Because this one… It’s only for you.”
Her shining eyes welled up with tears, and her smile was so beautiful it made everything I’d done worth it a thousand times over.
Sophie raised her hand and pinned the boutonnière—a white rose, beautifully arranged—upon my suit. I wasn’t sure if she heard it, but when her hand brushed against my chest, my heart thudded faster for her.
Reaching for my corsage once more, I fastened it gently around her wrist. I stepped back and extended my hand to her. “Shall we?”
She laughed, wiping her tears, then nodded in excitement and slipped her hand into mine. “Yes.”
I held her, picking up the remote beside me, I pressed the button with a single click, letting the “Potter Waltz” symphony burst through the speakers, grand and full, filling the entire room.
Sophie let out a startled laugh.
Then we danced.
We went round and round the room, filling it not just with music but also with our laughter. I twirled, held, and lifted her into the air.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said as I twirled her, her gown billowing.
“And you’re so beautiful too,” Sophie shot back between giggles.
I laughed with her. “Don’t steal my line, baby—” My words were cut short when she stepped on her dress, nearly toppling over. I caught her by the waist just in time.
For a moment, stillness wrapped around us as our eyes locked, breathless with surprise, before we both burst into laughter again. We were terrible at this. It seemed we had to do this often to do better in the future.
Still, we danced and danced until nearly an hour had flown by. When we were finally breathless and giddy, Sophie switched out the orchestra CD and slipped in a One Direction one. The moment “Magic” came on, she kicked off her heels and began jumping wildly, dragging me along into her happiness.
We sang, we laughed, we moved without care. And for a few blissful hours, her sickness, her sadness, all of it vanished.
And then we sat on her carpet while eating the food and drinks I had bought earlier. I made sure she took her medicine, too.
She sipped the hot chocolate Mum had given her, saying her throat still hurt too much for Coke. Then we leaned against each other, pizza in hand, while watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Okay, this was the 217th time.
“Thank you, Zi…” she murmured, her voice soft, muffled as she burrowed closer against me.
I looked at her side. She was so focused on the movie that her mouth moved, repeating the lines along with it.
Warmth spread through my heart.
I should be the one saying thank you, Sophie. Your presence always made me feel grateful.
I pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair. “Thank you, baby. And get well soon… so we can make more happy memories together.”
Don't be sick. Let me be the one.