The Spring Gala was considered the first important social event of the summer season by most affluent residents of Savannah; a formal dance where young people, usually high school seniors on the verge of graduation, were formally introduced into society and accepted as young adults. In decades past, such galas served as matchmaking events for wealthy families seeking marriage arrangements between a young lady or distinguished suitor. Though arranged marriages were mostly an antiquated notion, the Spring Gala remained a symbolic rite of passage for the young and wealthy elite of Savannah.
For Grace Kelly Lattimore, the Spring Gala was merely one more social event among a never-ending schedule of similar functions which required her to wear a gown.
"Ah can't believe m'ah parents paired me with Dylan Montgomery," Grace complained in a drawl which was thick even for Georgia. She was tugging at the silken material clinging to her hips in a futile attempt to adjust the fit of her white gown.
Ashlee watched her classmate and best friend fuss over the garment from where they stood at the edge of the ballroom, "Would you stop picking at that thing? You look fine, and you should be happy you're dancing with Dylan; I'm stuck with Connor Wilmington, who I swear hit every branch of the ugly tree..."
Grace continued to wriggle and pluck at her dress as though it didn't fit right, "At least Connor's a sweetheart. Dylan's such a pompous ass... he thinks he's gawd's gift to the damn world just because his daddy owns half of Georgia."
Watching Grace, Ashlee decided she couldn't take it anymore, "What is your problem with that dress? You've been fighting with it for five minutes!"
"It's too tight in the hips," Grace fretted, "ah feel like m'ah ass is sticking out a quarter-mile."
Though Ashlee was certainly an attractive girl herself, she had always been jealous of her taller friend. With blonde hair that always seemed to do whatever she wanted, perfect skin, and a 5'9" body that belonged on a magazine cover, Grace resembled the movie star she was named after.
"Your ass looks perfect," Ashlee assured. "Just like it always does. Dylan will be drooling all over you."
"Gawd, that's the last thing ah need. If Dylan hits on me while we're dancing ah'm going to knee him in the groin."
Ashlee giggled at Grace's melodrama, "It'll all be over soon, then we can sneak out of here and grab a smoke. Now come on, they're about to present us for the first dance."
Grace finally gave up on her gown as Ashlee grabbed her hand. The two teens hurried in their high heels towards a small podium where a line of their fellow classmates was forming.
At the Spring Gala, young people entering society were formally announced to the gathering by a master of ceremonies before pairing with someone of the opposite sex, for the evening's opening dance. Grace was fully aware such a pairing was once an indication of marriage arrangement; she was thankful such arrangements were no longer common practice. She couldn't imagine anything more horrid than being forced to marry Dylan Montgomery, who Grace felt was an egotistical bore. Still, her mother had somehow arranged it with the gala committee that Grace be paired with Dylan and assumed it was because her mother was always mindful of their family's image; Dylan belonged to a very prestigious and wealthy family.
Grace and her peers were slowly announced, one by one, and paired off to the dance floor amidst polite applause from parents and community members in attendance. Grace did her best to smile and appear lady-like, but once the music started she found herself eagerly anticipating the dance's finish.
Dylan was at least a competent dancer, leading them in a two-step, "You look gorgeous, Grace."
"That's very nice of you to say," Grace replied, feigning a smile.
Dylan could sense her cool demeanor, "Is something wrong?"
"No, not especially," Grace answered. "Ah just get tired of dances and galas all the time. Seems like there's one every week."
"Yes, but this one is special."
"Why's that?" Grace sounded disinterested.
"It could be our first official dance as a couple," Dylan replied with a smug grin.
Grace rolled her eyes, "Give it up, Dylan. You and ah will never be a couple."
"Why not? We're a perfect match, Grace."
"How do you figure?" Grace asked, though she feared his answer.
"Well, I'm handsome, good-looking, and heir to one of the wealthiest families in Georgia. And you're the most beautiful girl in Savannah. We were meant for one another."
"Y'all are dumber than a box of tacks," Grace sighed. "'Handsome' and 'good-looking' is the same thing."
Dylan smiled, "At least we agree that I'm attractive."
"Ah agree that you're arrogant?"
Dylan chuckled, seemingly immune to Grace's icy wall, "You'll come around eventually."
"Come around to what?"
"What a fine pair we'll make."
Grace snorted, unladylike, but she couldn't help it. "Ah think you better start looking for the second-most beautiful girl in Savannah."
Dylan seemed oblivious, "Let's go to my parent's beach house this weekend. We can take my convertible."
Grace nearly made good on her promise to Ashlee, but restrained herself from placing her knee firmly between Dylan's legs, "Ah would rather French-kiss a crocodile than go anywhere with you, Dylan. Now stop pestering me."
Finally the song ended, signaling an end to the dance. Grace curtseyed to the crowd, then quickly shimmied off the dance floor to find Ashlee without bothering to look back at Dylan. The cigarette Ashlee mentioned earlier was sounding awfully good to Grace.
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Chase hated working the 'high-society' events. The people were snobby and he felt like they were always looking down at him, as though he were some form of lower-class worm. But the catering service he worked for paid well and most of the work was on evenings and weekends, freeing up his days for technical school.
"Hey," one of his coworkers approached. Most of the catering employees were on break before the dinner rush, while the guests danced. Many of them had congregated outside, behind the ballroom at a designated area for smoking.
"What's up, Tommy?" Chase lit a cigarette.
"You going to that party at Gina's tonight?"
"I hadn't planned on it, why?"
"You should," Tommy encouraged. "C'mon, it's Friday night. I heard her parents are out of town and there's going to be two kegs. It should be a blast. Lots of scattered ass."
Chase's reply was non-committal, "I'll think about it."
The truth was, Chase wasn't interested in a party. He had recently been dumped by his girlfriend, whom he had been dating since high school, and wasn't quite ready to move on yet. It was a typical tale: his girlfriend went away for her freshman year of college while Chase stayed home to attend a technical school; she broke up with him less than a month prior, claiming she had met someone else.
"Maybe I'll see you there, then." Tommy stepped out his cigarette, "I better get back to serving the 'trust-funders'."
Chase figured to get back to work as well and took one last drag off his cigarette before stepping it out on the asphalt. Just as he was about to go in, he saw Grace come out.
She was laughing at the girl beside her, walking out of the ballroom's kitchen exit, and her smile lit up the night. Both women were dressed finely in evening gowns, so Chase knew they were part of the trust-fund crowd; most likely slumming out back to sneak a cigarette away from the view of mommy and daddy. Normally, Chase avoided such girls. They were snobby bitches - every one. But for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off Grace. She was taller than her friend, almost statuesque when adding in the height of her heels. Her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled, touched with just enough make-up to become terrifyingly alluring. Her blond hair was coiled and gathered high, revealing the entirety of her slender neck along with two dangling earrings.
