I almost lost Aiden the first time because of all the lies I told him. Now here I am, telling him more lies. How much longer can I keep this secret from him? How much longer can I let him think he has a future with me when I’m supposed to be packing my bags to leave as soon as we get home? I’m such a shitty person.
Aiden misinterprets my reaction. “Not that—not that I assume you’ll go to prom with me.”
I suddenly can’t meet his gaze. “No, yeah. Obviously I’d go to prom with you.”
If I was around.
Before he can say anything else that breaks my heart, I turn around and walk to the dressing room where Charlotte’s loaded up a bunch of dresses.
“This is so fun!” She smiles, looking wistfully at all the dresses. “I’m kind of jealous I’m not the one getting to put on a pretty dress, but dressing you up is still fun.”
“Thanks for doing this, Char.” I pick a red dress off the hook and analyze it.
“No problem! I can’t wait to do this again for prom, except then I’ll get to try on dresses too!” She laughs and leaves the room, yelling something at Aiden about how he can’t see, but I’m left thinking over her words, my stomach sinking. Again with prom. Another person I’m letting down.
I close the door to the room and stare at the rest of the dresses, a frown on my face. This isn’t fun anymore. How long can I keep pretending I’m a regular girl? How long can I ignore my problems by pushing them off? Even all the stuff with Mason. Can I really tell him about his dad’s affair and then just vanish off the face of the earth?
“Do you have the first dress on yet?” Charlotte excitedly calls through the door, snapping me out of my musing.
“Sure, just one second!” I call back, ripping off my clothes and throwing on a random dress. I don’t even look in the mirror before opening the door.
Charlotte’s eyes are wide and shiny. “Yes. That’s the dress.” She claps her hands together and practically squeals.
“It’s the first one I tried on,” I say, feeling guilty that I’m not as excited as I should be.
“So? Have you even looked at yourself? Turn around so I can zip you the rest of the way.” Placing her hands on my bare shoulders, she spins me around to face the mirror and my breath hitches.
“Whoa,” is all I can manage. The dress is black and off both shoulders, leaving my upper chest bare, with a sweetheart plunge that’s not inappropriate but not exactly modest either. It’s tight all the way down, giving me curves where I didn’t know I had them, and it loosens up about midthigh, flowing elegantly to the floor with a slit running up to my left thigh.
“‘Whoa’ is an understatement!” Charlotte’s smile is so big it must hurt her cheeks. “I’m so glad I sent Aiden away so he didn’t see this before you were properly glammed up. He’d jump your bones!”
“Char!” I laugh, my spirits lifting slightly.
The dress is gorgeous and I feel beautiful in it. It’s dizzying and makes dark thoughts pop in my mind. It’s not illegal to feel happy. There’s no reason you shouldn’t wear this dress and pretend it’s your prom, it’s not like you’ll get a real one with Aiden. It’s not like you’ll want to go to prom with anyone other than Aiden. Make the most of the situation.
“I’m going to go get shoes!” Charlotte giggles, her excitement contagious as she turns and runs to the shoe section.
She leaves me staring at myself in the mirror, and I take a deep breath, decision made. For the millionth time since I met Aiden, I let myself be selfish. I’m going to let myself pretend that this is our prom, the one that I’ll never get to have, and ignore the stabbing in my stomach, ignore everything telling me that I’m going to hurt all the people I care about, including myself.
We get home without Aiden having a clue which dress we bought, as per Charlotte’s demands, and I model it for Annalisa, who claps in delight and declares the rest of the evening a girls’ spa night.
Charlotte makes face masks in the kitchen while Annalisa and I are in my room gathering all our nail polishes together to have options, when Annalisa’s phone rings. The look on her face when she examines the caller ID tells me something is wrong, but she answers the call out in the hall anyway.
“What happened?” I ask as she sits back down on the floor across from me.
“Nothing.” She dismisses me, but then changes her mind. “That was Luke.”
She actually answered the phone for her brother? I guess that’s progress from having his number blocked and cursing the day he was born.
“He called me from jail. He was arrested a couple of days ago and charged with killing Greg. Second degree murder.” She looks down and fiddles with her nail polish bottle.
“I’m so sorry, Anna,” I say sincerely.
“Why? Don’t be sorry. I’m not. He deserves this,” she states fiercely, maybe too fiercely, the kind of statement that makes me feel like she’s really only trying to convince herself.
My brief silence prompts her to keep talking. “He’s a shitty brother, and he killed a person! A shitty person, but still! Plus, he killed my mom, so I say good riddance!”
She’s definitely trying to convince herself.