The following day, Dylan's tutu stunt was the only thing anyone at Ridgeway High could talk about. It was as though the school had collectively decided to immortalize the event as a defining moment of the year. The video had gone viral within hours, spreading beyond Ridgeway High to neighboring schools, and even making it onto a few meme pages on Instagram.
For Mia, the aftermath was something she hadn't prepared for. By the time she reached school, she felt as if every single pair of eyes was on her. Whispers followed her down the hallway, and she could hear snippets of conversation.
"Isn't that the girl Dylan's been hanging out with?"
"Do you think she dared him to do it?"
"They say she's his muse. Can you imagine?"
Her face burned as she ducked into her locker, trying to avoid the stares. Dylan, on the other hand, was basking in the attention. She could hear him a few lockers down, laughing with his friends about the "tutu stunt heard 'round the world."
Mia wished she could vanish. She didn't mind the occasional spotlight, but this? This was overwhelming. She grabbed her books and headed to first period, praying the day would somehow pass without incident.
By lunch, the buzz hadn't died down. If anything, it had intensified. Mia found herself sitting with Claire and her small group of friends in their usual spot near the library. Claire was scrolling through her phone, her face alight with amusement.
"Okay, I have to admit," Claire said, showing Mia a meme that someone had created featuring Dylan mid-leap in the tutu. The caption read: "When you're the star player, but also lowkey auditioning for Swan Lake."
Mia groaned. "This is never going to end, is it?"
"Oh, c'mon, it's funny!" Claire nudged her playfully. "Besides, you're lucky. Everyone thinks you inspired this masterpiece."
"Lucky?" Mia hissed. "Have you seen the way people are staring at me? I didn't ask to be Dylan Westwood's... whatever I am."
Claire arched an eyebrow. "Whatever you are? Mia, please. The boy is clearly into you."
Mia froze, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. "What are you talking about?"
"Oh, don't play dumb. You know exactly what I mean. He's been glued to you for weeks, and now he's out here pulling stunts that get him plastered all over the internet. For what? A laugh? Please. He's trying to impress you."
"That's ridiculous," Mia muttered, though her cheeks were turning red. "Dylan's just... Dylan. He doesn't think about things like that."
"Sure," Claire said, drawing the word out dramatically. "Keep telling yourself that."
Mia didn't respond. She couldn't. Because deep down, a tiny part of her wondered if Claire might be right. Dylan had been spending more time with her. And the way he grinned at her after the stunt—it wasn't the kind of smile you gave to just anyone.
The chaos of lunch spilled into the afternoon, and by the time gym class rolled around, Mia was bracing herself for the inevitable. Dylan was, of course, the center of attention. The gym was buzzing with students still talking about the stunt, and a few even asked him to reenact it.
Dylan, to his credit, didn't seem fazed by any of it. He leaned casually against the bleachers, tossing a basketball between his hands, as if he weren't the star of every conversation happening in the room. When he spotted Mia walking in, his face lit up.
"Hey, tutu girl!" he called out, loud enough for half the class to hear.
Mia froze, mortified. "Will you stop calling me that?"
"Why? It suits you," he teased, walking over to her with that easy confidence he seemed to carry everywhere.
"I'm not the one who wore a tutu," Mia shot back, folding her arms. "That's all on you."
Dylan laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Fair point. But you have to admit, it was worth it. Did you see the video? I'm practically a legend now."
Mia rolled her eyes. "A ridiculous legend."
"Hey, ridiculous is kind of my thing," Dylan said with a shrug. Then, after a beat, he leaned in closer, his voice lowering. "But seriously, did you laugh? At least a little?"
Mia hesitated, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But the truth was, she had laughed—more than she cared to admit. "Maybe," she said finally, trying to sound indifferent.
Dylan grinned. "Knew it."
Before Mia could respond, the gym teacher blew the whistle, signaling the start of class. Dylan jogged off to join his team, but not before throwing her one last grin over his shoulder.
By the time the final bell rang, Mia was exhausted—not from schoolwork, but from the sheer emotional toll of the day. She was gathering her things at her locker when Dylan appeared beside her, leaning casually against the wall as if he hadn't a care in the world.
"Walking home?" he asked.
Mia blinked. "Uh... yeah."
"I'll walk with you," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Mia hesitated. "Don't you usually drive?"
"I do," Dylan said, "but I figured I'd mix it up today. Besides, it's a nice day."
Mia wasn't sure she believed him, but she didn't argue. The two of them fell into step as they made their way out of the school and onto the sidewalk. For a while, they walked in silence, the chatter of other students fading behind them.
"So," Dylan said eventually, "be honest. Did the stunt make your week, or was it a total disaster?"
Mia thought for a moment. "It was... something. I'll give you that."
Dylan chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment."
They reached the corner where Mia's street branched off, and she stopped, turning to face him. "Why do you do it?" she asked suddenly.
"Do what?" Dylan asked, tilting his head.
"Stuff like the tutu stunt," Mia said. "You're already the most popular guy in school. You don't need to... I don't know, make a spectacle of yourself."
Dylan shrugged, his expression turning surprisingly thoughtful. "I guess I just like making people laugh. Life's too short to take everything so seriously, you know?"
Mia nodded slowly, his words sinking in. She realized then that there was more to Dylan Westwood than the charming, basketball-playing class clown everyone saw. Beneath the bravado was someone who genuinely cared about making others happy—even if it meant embarrassing himself in the process.
"Well," Mia said after a moment, "I guess I can respect that."
Dylan grinned. "Glad to hear it, tutu girl."
Mia groaned, but this time, she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. As ridiculous as Dylan could be, there was something undeniably endearing about him. And, much to her surprise, she found herself looking forward to whatever crazy thing he'd do next.