#heelsstruggles

Brooke stepped back into the living room, fully dressed in her own sleek cat costume, the tight black bodysuit hugging every curve as she tossed Connor a playful grin. "Okay, kitty, let's go," she said, grabbing his hand without waiting and tugging him toward the door.

Connor stumbled forward, the glossy platform boots already feeling like a death trap. "I can't walk in these things," he muttered, trying not to trip as Brooke led him along. His feet wobbled with each step, the towering six-inch heels turning every movement into a delicate balancing act.

Brooke glanced back at him, giggling softly at the way he wobbled in the heels. "You'll get plenty of practice," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "The party's all the way across campus.

Connor nearly stopped in his tracks. "Across campus? What if someone—what if people recognize me?"

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. No one is going to recognize you. You don't even look like Connor anymore." She threw him a teasing glance over her shoulder. "If anything, you should be more worried about guys hitting on you."

She gave his hand a little tug, her grin turning playful. "Now, let me teach you how to walk in those heels. Small, dainty steps," she instructed, her voice lilting as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "And sway those hips—just a little."

Connor clenched his jaw, concentrating on taking small, dainty steps and trying to sway his hips the way Brooke had shown him. Every step felt awkward, but he kept at it, determined not to trip.

Brooke watched him with a satisfied grin. "Look at you, picking it up so fast," she teased. "So... what am I supposed to call you? Connor won't

Without thinking, the answer slipped from his lips. "Carly."

Brooke blinked, momentarily surprised, but her grin widened. "Carly, huh? That's cute."

And just like that, before he could say anything else, she gave his hand a playful squeeze and tugged him along toward the party.

By the time they reached the party, Carly's calves ached, but that was quickly forgotten as nerves kicked in. The place was packed-music thumping, drinks being passed around, and groups of people sprawled out across couches or huddled in tight circles laughing. Carly shrank in on herself, staying close to Brooke as they weaved through the crowd, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt exposed-like everyone was staring at her. But the strange thing was... no one looked at her like anything was wrong. Some of the girls offered friendly nods or quick compliments-"Cute outfit!" -before moving along, while the guys glanced at her with lingering looks that made her cheeks burn.

Carly kept her head down at first, but as the night wore on, she started to relax—just a little. She could hear Brooke chatting with people, laughing easily as if none of this were unusual. And somehow, the more Carly saw how naturally everyone treated her, the easier it became to follow along.

The heels still pinched her toes and made her calves ache, but even that started to fade as she got used to the rhythm of walking in them.

The night blurred by-snatches of conversations, Brooke pulling her from one group to another, and more than a few guys sneaking appreciative glances her way. It was overwhelming, but Carly stayed close to Brooke's side, grateful for the anchor she provided.

Finally, the night began to wind down, and they slipped out of the party together into the cool night air. Carly exhaled, her calves aching again now that the excitement was over, but it didn't bother her as much this time.

Brooke grinned, adjusting her cat ears. "See? Told you you'd be fine."

Carly gave a small laugh, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Yeah... I guess I survived." Brooke nudged her with a playful smile. "You did better than survive. You were amazing, Carly."

The compliment hit differently than it should have, making Carly's cheeks flush. She stayed quiet, the soft click of their heels echoing through the empty streets as they made their way home.