Henry had done it. Henry had asked a stinking girl to the stinking ball. He had been hoping that Henry would bottle it, or that Iris would say 'no,' but everything had gone according to Henry's plan, and now Oz had to uphold his end of the bargain and ask out Lorena. This still felt like it was one of the stupidest ideas Henry had ever come up with, and Oz was seriously tempted to revoke his status as the brains of this operation. He didn't like Lorena. Well, probably not. He'd never spoken to her. But she was an Aladren and a girl, so she was probably multiple kinds of annoying. His recent interaction with Valentine has only served to emphasise what he already knew about trying to talk to girls, which was that it was weird, and usually ended up with them being annoyed at you.
Henry had used a chocolate frog to ask Iris out, which probably meant Oz had to provide candy of some sort too. Not that he needed or wanted to steal Henry's moves, but one thing he knew about girls was that they definitely talked, and he didn't want to be known as the stingy Spellman brother, even though it pained him to spend the non-existent amount of spare cash he had on treats for someone else.
He spotted Lorena and made his way over to the Aladren table - something he had never done in his life, and which probably attracted attention - and stopped behind a seat a couple of seats away from her.
"Hey," he said, pulling the Every Flavour Beans out of his pocket. "Think fast," he said, hoping she was more familiar with non-magical culture or jokes than Valentine had been (he wasn't sure where the break down had been there). He had at least learnt something from that intetaction, in that he waited for eye contact before throwing the packet, and did so way more gently than he would have with a guy, and Lorena would not actually have to think particularly fast to catch them. "You wanna go to the ball with me?" he asked, figuring it was like ripping off a bandaid and you just had to do it.
OOC: Assumptions about how Iris and Henry is likely to go checked with their authors.
Lorena did not know either of the Spellman brothers especially well. In fact, offhand, she could hardly remember ever speaking to either. But she knew which was which from the sight of them; identical or not, they styled themselves in very different ways. From clothes to hair to the way they carried themselves, Henry and Oz were two very different people.
She could envision Henry approaching the Aladren table. Lorena didn’t keep specific tabs on who was friends with whom, so she didn’t know if he had any Aladren friends, but she could see him coming up to someone to talk about homework or something. But this was not Oz. Lorena was more confident in her assumption that Oz did not have friends in her House, and she was positive he was not walking up to ask someone about homework.
And to top it off, he was walking up to her.
“Hey. Think fast.”
Lorena, a habitual resident of her own head, often thought fast. This was more a matter of reflexes. She wasn’t particularly athletic, but she did manage to react in Oz’s allotted time to raise her hands and catch the box of candy.
“You wanna go to the ball with me?”
Lorena’s jaw fell open. Her? Go to the ball with a boy? In an instant, her mind flooded. “What?” she asked dumbly, although she had heard him perfectly clearly. It was just her brain buying some time. This was not the spectacular promposal she had helped Tommy to spring on Rosalynn, but they were also an actual couple and it had to be grand to prevent being stale. This was a boy she hardly knew asking her for a date. A date!
The Aladren had seen enough sitcoms in her life to be weary. She didn’t fit in at her Muggle elementary school, so she was exactly the kind of girl who on TV would get asked out as a joke. This didn’t seem like a joke, but she couldn’t quite silence that little voice in her head.
She also thought about Isla, her friend, who also didn’t have a date. Lorena felt they had sort of an unspoken agreement to hang out at the ball since they didn’t get asked, but if someone was asking Lorena, she couldn’t well be expected to say no, could she?
Eventually, Lorena fell into a simpler mindset: she was a thirteen-year-old girl being asked to a dance, and by a boy who was none too bad looking at that. She smiled a nervous, crooked smile. “Yeah, okay!” she answered. “I’d like that!”