a/n; in this chapter, (y/n) will be wearing a dress. now before any of you race to the comment section and write "jUsT sWeAtPaNtS aNd A bAgGy tOp FoR mEeE!" note that this does take place in the 1930s, so yes, girls will be expected to be straight, feminine, and up to date with fashion trends. which did entail dressy clothing at the time. 

of course, i'm not saying that this is how it should be modern day, i just wanted to make it as accurate as possible. nor am i trying to make fun of you for your preferences. 

i also did a lot of research about the 1930s for the chapter, so i hope you enjoy babes! xx

───── ୨୧ ─────

chapter three
༻✿༺
( fourteen years old )

The lights of the school's gymnasium flicker over the more mature, fourteen-year-old version of (Y/N)'s soft features. Some other girls she had befriended danced carelessly and happily over the mopped basketball court, laughing over their cups of Shirley Temple and chocolate-covered pretzels. As messed up as it may be—the stereotype follows accordingly. All the girls huddle together on one side, whispering to their friends and eyeing their crushes before one brave gentleman on the opposing side crosses over to a girl, politely asking her for a dance while the orchestra plays a cheery and classical tune in the background. After all, it had been highly expected by all chaperones that each girl would be partnered with a fine young man to perform a traditional dance for the night. Dances, as they claimed, were good ways for the young to practice proper social etiquette.

Yet (Y/N) sits in a corner, her legs criss-cross applesauce style while she sips gingerly at her exceptionally divine cup of juice—giving not a single care about whatever occurred as the night went on, or even the following morning.

That's not to say she didn't bother to dress up. (Y/N) proudly sported a beautiful black and white polka dot dress that just went above her ankles, a pair of soft white gloves clothed her fingers, and to top it off was a flat hat tilted playfully to the side secured with a silk bow.

(Y/N) pulls her head up upon hearing the gentle clicking of Mrs. Floria's heels zoom over to her, her already red and scrunched face turning even darker with rage. She also wore a polka dot dress, but with a purple and green combination that just fit around her rather plump frame. Floria looked down at the teen in disgust, her wrinkled lips pursed from holding back the many things she had wished to say to the girl.

"And what, Miss (L/N) are you doing like that?" she eyed her up and down.

Her expression molds to confusion. "Like...what, ma'am?" she replies respectfully.

"Your posture, dear."

(Y/N)'s heart seemed to weigh down under a thousand-pound cement block, and in frantic panic, she straightened her back and stood up. However, at the same time, Floria had moved forward to grab her, causing a sudden collision between the two and ending with Floria soaked in (Y/N)'s cup of grape juice.

Her mouth agape and nostrils flared in distaste, (Y/N)'s heart clenched, knowing exactly what would happen next.

Dragging her to the center of the gymnasium by the ear and to the center of all the commotion, she could already feel the heat building up to her cheeks as Floria began taking off her heel and raising it above her head into what would surely become a painful (and fucking humiliating) spank. (Y/N) held her hands up in defense, holding her breath as she awaited the dreaded pain that would come to her—but none did.

She slowly opens her eyes, only to see that Vox stepped in to push Floria away. Yet knowing her best friend, (Y/N) could see the quick regret wash over him as he swallowed deeply.

Floria looks at the boy in shock, clearly not expecting one of her top students to act out so inappropriately to his superior.

Vox wasted no time.

He grabbed (Y/N) by the wrist and began to dash towards the exit, which she was quick to follow at the same amount of speed. Vox held onto the top of his hat like a dork, and (Y/N) reminded herself not to laugh out loud at a time like this.

She squeezed her eyes shut to somehow muffle the wretched curses that followed after the pair, and she squeezed Vox's hand tighter, clutching onto him like he was the only thing that mattered.

Because of this moment, he was.

Once they were far enough away, Vox let out a sigh, collapsing under a nearby oak tree and tossing his hat aside. (Y/N) sits down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She was too shaken to even think or say anything after the events that had occurred earlier that night. All she knew to say was—"Thank you," she whispers—her tears beginning to spill down and stain Vox's suit.

He kisses the top of her head, cupping her face in both hands as he brushes away the bitter tears with his gloved thumbs. He beams at her.

"I couldn't let you face that humiliation," he says softly. "My beautiful bride-to-be..."

The silence fills the atmosphere around them as the two young kids listen to the sound of the wind gushing against the trees, and how the leaves react to the commotion. They watch the sky as the moon casts her generous rays of light over them, and the teens knowingly intertwine fingers, sharing a small kiss in knowledge that she created this scene just for them.