Her eyes went sharp. “I drove across three counties for that dress. If you can’t be grateful, that’s your problem.”
I went looking for my dad.
He was in the garage, half under the hood of his car, the way he always was when voices started rising in the house.
“If you can’t be grateful, that’s your problem.”
“Dad. Can you look at the dress Alexis got me?”
He wiped his hands on a rag and followed me back inside.
I showed him the mustard-gold dress hanging on my closet door. He looked at it for a long time, then turned to me and said something that broke my heart.
“Em, honey. She tried,” he said in a low voice.
“Dad, please.”
“It’s one night. Just appreciate the effort, okay? I don’t want another fight in this house.”
He turned to me and said something that broke my heart.
His voice was tired. The kind of tired that asked you not to make things harder.
I swallowed everything I wanted to say. In three months I would be gone, living in a dorm room across state lines.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay, Dad.”
Prom night came faster than I wanted it to. I stood in front of the mirror in the mustard-gold dress and tried not to look directly at myself.
The kind of tired that asked you not to make things harder.
Alexis drove. Brianna sat in the front seat, scrolling through her phone, taking selfies with the visor mirror.
Alexis was humming.
I had never heard her hum before. It was a soft, satisfied sound, the kind a person made when something they had planned for a long time was finally happening.
I glanced up.
In the rearview mirror, her eyes met Brianna’s. They held for a second. Then Brianna smirked and looked back down at her phone.
A cold feeling slid down my spine.
It was a soft, satisfied sound.
“We’re here, girls,” Alexis said brightly. “Out you go. Have the best night.”
Brianna practically floated out of the car.
I stepped onto the curb slowly. The gym doors at the end of the walkway suddenly looked very far away.
The gym doors swung open, and the music hit me like a wall. Warm light spilled across hundreds of faces, and every single one of them turned toward us.
I stepped onto the curb slowly.
For a moment, the attention belonged to Brianna. Her ice-blue gown shimmered under the lights like something out of a magazine.
Then her eyes locked on me.
“Oh my God, everyone, look at Emma,” she called out, loud enough to cut through the music. “Did someone lose a bet tonight?”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
“Did someone lose a bet tonight?”
I felt my face burn as I stepped further inside.
“Is that from a costume shop?” a boy from my chemistry class asked, grinning like he had just told the world’s funniest joke.
“Maybe a Halloween clearance bin,” another voice added.
I forced my chin up and walked past them, but the whispers followed me like a second shadow. I could feel them brushing my skin.
Across the gym, near the punch table, Alexis was joining the parent chaperones. She looked over at me, smiling.
I felt my face burn as I stepped further inside.
It was the smile of someone who had set a trap and watched it close perfectly.
I retreated to the far corner, behind a cluster of decorative balloons, and pressed my back against the cold wall. I told myself I would not cry.
“Emma.”
Jenna’s voice broke through the noise. She rushed toward me, her green dress swishing, her face tight with fury.
I told myself I would not cry.
“Don’t you dare let them see you cry,” she whispered, grabbing my hand. “Brianna’s a snake. Everyone with half a brain knows it.”
“Jenna, I just want to leave.”
“Two hours. We survive two hours, then we go to the diner and I buy you the biggest milkshake on the menu.”
I almost laughed. Almost.
Then I noticed Ms. Carter walking toward us. Her eyes were fixed on me with the strangest expression.
“Brianna’s a snake. Everyone with half a brain knows it.”
“Emma,” she said softly, stopping a few feet away. “May I look at your dress?”
I blinked. “My dress?”
She circled me without waiting for an answer. Her fingers hovered over the bodice, near the stitching at the waist, then drifted lower toward the hem.
“Ms. Carter, what are you doing?”
She did not answer right away.
She crouched down, lifted the edge of the fabric near my ankle, and went completely still.
“May I look at your dress?”
When she stood back up, her eyes were full of tears.
“I’m so glad you wore this,” she said. “I know it’s out of date, but seeing this dress again after all these years… what a beautiful way to honor her.”
“Honor who? My stepmother bought this dress for me. Probably from some thrift store.”
Ms. Carter shook her head. “That is not possible.”
“What do you mean?”
“Seeing this dress again after all these years… what a beautiful way to honor her.”