Then another girl shouted loudly from the other side of the dance floor.
“Be careful not to lose him in the crowd!”
More laughter.
I looked at the ground.
“Just ignore them,” Elliot said quietly.
“How?” I whispered.
But then he surprised me.
The teachers were near the walls.
Instead of walking towards the tables, he took me straight to the dance floor.
Straight to the center.
The song that was playing was slow and soft, and Elliot gently placed a hand on my waist.
“Dance with me,” he told me.
People kept staring and whispering, but Elliot looked at me as if I was the only person in the room.
He led me straight to the dance floor.
“You know,” he murmured, “they’re all jealous because you chose me.”
I laughed despite myself. “Oh, really?”
“Obviously. Look at me. A great match.”
I rolled my eyes.
For a few minutes it seemed to me that, after all, we might survive the night.
Then another voice cut the music off.
It seemed to me that, after all, we might survive the night.
“Maybe you should pick him up and dance with him like he’s a child!”
This time the laughter was louder and crueler. I saw several students turn around to see our reaction.
My eyes filled with tears instantly, and for the first time all night, I saw something break in Elliot’s expression as well.
Not anger, but humiliation.
I saw something break in Elliot’s expression.
I leaned closer to him. “Let’s go. This was a bad idea.”
He nodded once.
We turned back together towards the exit, but then someone touched my shoulder.
I looked behind me and saw Mrs. Parker, our math teacher.
She rarely raised her voice. She was the kind of teacher who silenced students simply because she always seemed disappointed.
But now she seemed furious.
Someone touched my shoulder.
“Elliot,” she said firmly. “You and Olivia have to come with me.”
The room was buzzing with confusion as he led us towards the stage.
“What’s going on?” someone nearby murmured.
Mrs. Parker went up the small stairs next to the DJ booth and took the microphone from the surprised student volunteer.
Then the music stopped.
He guided us to the stage.
The other students groaned and immediately began to complain.
“Everyone be quiet RIGHT NOW,” Mrs. Parker said. “I have something important to say about Elliot, and I need everyone to listen to me.”
The room slowly calmed down.
Next to me, Elliot looked completely confused.
Mrs. Parker turned to him first.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have done this much sooner.” Then he turned back to face the students. “For the past two years, many of you have mocked this young man every single day.”
“Everyone be quiet RIGHT NOW.”
Now nobody was laughing.
“They made jokes about her body. They treated her as if she were less than human. Some did it openly. Some whispered it behind her back.” Her eyes scanned the crowd. “And tonight, many of you have chosen to do it again.”
I noticed several students shifting uncomfortably. Some completely avoided eye contact.
Mrs. Parker continued, “What most of you apparently don’t know is that Elliot has spent the last year volunteering after school, three days a week, tutoring struggling freshmen in math. He never asked for recognition, but I’m sick of seeing kindness go unheard while cruelty gets all the attention.”
Mrs. Parker held up a small envelope.
“I’m fed up with seeing kindness go silent while cruelty gets attention.”
“Each year, the faculty chooses a senior student for the Heart of the School Award,” Mrs. Parker announced.
Some students exchanged confused glances.
“This award is given to the student who demonstrates exceptional character, compassion, and integrity.” He smiled slightly. “This year, the award goes to Elliot Carter.”
For a second, nobody reacted.
Elliot looked at her as if he really thought she had the wrong name.
Some students exchanged confused glances.
“What?” he whispered.
Mrs. Parker handed him the envelope. “You’ve earned it.”
And suddenly, applause erupted from somewhere near the back of the gym.
Several first-year students who were near the wall stood up and applauded.
“It’s Elliot!”
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