Authors: Ally Derby
Pax sends texts from the next room.
Breathe
.
I try to avoid him, but he is everywhere, so I try to stop feeling those emotions. He is just a boy, not the sky or the ocean, not a Greek god or the son of one. He is just Pax: my awkward potato, my best friend’s brother.
Honestly, I couldn’t wait until prom was over so I could gain some distance from him and get my less high acting best friend back.
Joey ‘Freaking’ White has been becoming an annoyance. His name feels like a mosquito buzzing around my ear, one that won’t go away. Joey ‘Freaking’ White. Ugh!
I am replacing hot curlers into their case so they will be hot and ready for the next prom going beauty. I am also painting nails and handing Mom hair pins.
The excitement of playing dress-up has always been lost on me. Why try to be something you’re not? I may lose myself in a story or a role-play on-line, but in real life, I am me: just an everyday, jean wearing girl with a braid or ponytail.
I grab my phone from my pocket as it vibrates and am kind of shocked when I see Claire’s name pop up.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hair-mergency.” She sniffs. “Pax said your mom does hair. My hairdresser is now my ex-hairdresser. I look awful.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Claire. You’re beautiful,” I say in a tone that I hope comes off sincere. “Mom is booked—”
“He said you have been doing Lana’s. Please, can you just let me stop down so you can try something? I will pay you. I am desperate, Hadley. I—”
I rattle off the address, and she says, “See you in ten.”
“Everything okay?”
I look up at Mom. “Yeah, Claire is having a ‘hair-mergency.’ ” I finger quote the word. “She won’t take no for an answer.”
“I can try to squeeze her in, or Hadley, you are more than capable of doing it.”
“But you need my help,” I say, continuing to add curlers to the heat cradles.
“I am sure we can work it out.”
When Claire walks in, she looks around. Then I wave her over, and she smiles.
“Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I tell her, as I motion to the folding chair I have set out for her. “Tell me what you hate about it. I think it looks great.”
“It’s nothing like I wanted. I wanted it in a low bun with curls kind of to the side.”
Oh, crap
, I think to myself.
“Are you sure? So many others have done the same thing.”
Seeing my mom giving me a questioning look, I shake my head slightly, and she shrugs then looks away.
“It’s really what I want.” She sighs, and I quietly pray she will change her mind. “What do you think I should do?”
“Well, you have really nice, thick, long hair. I could do a fishtail type braid that sweeps to the side and still have the curls you want coming down. No one else has done that, and it’s pretty.”
“You think?”
“That’s what I would do to mine, so yeah, I think.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head. “Okay, let’s try it.”
Normally, that style would take me five minutes, but it needs to be full on top. I glance at the clock, knowing the longer it takes, the less likely she is to ask me to do the same style I know Lana is wearing.
When I finish, I hold the mirror up, and she looks stunned.
“Okay, first, I love it.” She smiles. “Absolutely love it. Second, you’re sure no one else has had their hair done like this?”
“No one so far.” Mom smiles. “It looks amazing. Hadley, you amaze me.”
“That was third.” Claire laughs as she holds the mirror and checks out every angle. “Why the hell do you wear a ponytail every day? You have great hair and are capable of this. Girl, you need to represent.”
“I represent … me.” I smile as I shake my head.
She looks away from herself and at the clock. “Oh, damn. I have to go. Pictures are in an hour, and I’m not even dressed yet.”
“You have fun tonight,” Mom chimes in.
“I will, even if the prom is lame, since the after party is at my house.” She tries to hand me money.
“No thanks.”
“What do you mean ‘no thanks’?” she says, thrusting the money toward me again with a smile.
“You gave me rides to indoor league, so call it good.”
“I’ll call it good if you promise to come to my place for the after party.”
“I can’t.”
“She can. I’ll drop her off.” I shoot daggers at my mom, and she laughs. “You’re only young once, sweetheart. Live it up while you can.”
I have become the Cinna to Claire’s Katniss, but I wouldn’t bet on her even if I could.
~*~
As soon as I get home, my phone alerts me of a message from Lana, and it’s all in bold letters.
C
OME QUICK!
I
NEED YOU!
I look at Mom who laughs. “Lana?”
I nod and shove my feet in my slides. “Who else?”
“Well, it could be that Claire girl making sure you’re coming.”
“How many moms of fifteen-year-olds encourage their daughters to go to a party where there may be booze, drugs, and boys?”
“Will there be?” she asks, trying to sound unaffected.
“Boys, yes. Booze and drugs, I’m not sure, but it’s possible,” I tell her, as I open the door.
“I trust you, Hadley.”
“I know, Mom.”
Because I am boring
, I think to myself.
I knock on the door, and Pax opens it with a smile, then acts like he is going to say something, but I speak first.
“She upstairs?”
“No, she’s in Mom’s room, freaking the hell out.”
I nod and look around, avoiding his eyes, which happen to stand out even more against his black tux.
“I’ll take you back.” He looks at me to respond, and I am once again lost in those eyes. “Ready?”
I nod, and he lets out a deep breath and turns. Then I look up as he shakes his head and turns back.
“You are truly a great friend, a great person, just—”
My phone notifies me of a text again, and I reluctantly look away.
W
HERE ARE YOU!?!
“Lana?” He smiles softly when I nod. “You’re a good person, Hadley.”
“Great,” I correct, shoving my phone in my pocket.
He smirks, shakes his head, and then turns around and walks toward the back of the house. He knocks on the door, and Lana throws it open.
“It’s about freaking time!”
“How about, ’Hey, Hadley, thanks for coming’.” Pax laughs.
“Yeah, that, too.” She grabs my hand and yanks me inside, then slams the door in his face. “I liked it better when you did it. Can you fix it?”
“Lana…” I look up as her mother walks out of the bathroom and takes a drink of water. “You look stunning.”
“I look like a freaking pin-head. The bun is so tight my eyes are slanted back. The make-up”—she groans—“don’t even get me started. I look like a hooker, Mom.”
“I paid a lot of money—”
“You didn’t have to. I told you she could do it,” Lana interrupts, pulling pins out of her hair.
Mrs. Jamison gasps and puts her hand over her chest, “Lana!”
“Oh, take a pill, Mom. Come on, Hadley.” She grabs my hand and drags me behind her into the bathroom.
“Wow,” I say as I look around.
She snaps her finger in my face. “Don’t get sidetracked, sister. I need you. I promise to let you come spend all day in here tomorrow, looking at the marble floors and walls, but first, get me ready for Joey ‘Freaking’ White.”
I laugh. “How about I get you ready for you?”
“That, too.” She giggles as she sits down on the vanity chair. “Let’s do this.”
And so we do.
When we come out of the bathroom, Mrs. Jamison smiles as tears form in her eyes. “You look stunning, baby girl.”
“Told you she rocks,” Lana grumbles. “Dress time.”
Her mother opens the closet, and I see the dress for the first time. The ball gown is a deep blackberry color. The bodice is a corset covered in glistening sequins with a sweetheart neckline. The skirt is tulle and has a few sparkling sequins on it.
“Gorgeous,” I whisper.
Her mother takes the little baggy off the hanger. “Intimates first.”
chapter four
The beginning of my end…
I stand on the porch as the black stretch Hummer pulls away from the curb.
“They look amazing,” Dr. Jamison says as he kisses his wife’s head, then walks inside.
I nod. “They really do.”
“Thank you for helping her, although I thought she was perfect.”
“Girls, right?” I smile.
“Yes, I suppose.” She smiles. “The teenage years…”
“Well, thank you,” I say, as I step down the first step.
“Wait, honey, can you take something to your father for me?”
“My father?”
“Yes. He has been working on our fence this week. He built a little gate in the back section and replaced a few of the boards.”
“He did?” I ask, completely shocked.
“Yes, he also built the Adirondack chairs and glider. He is extremely talented.”
“Right.” I smile, even though I am stunned stupid.
“Give me one minute.” She slips inside and returns with an envelope. “Tell him thank you and we need the back deck fixed up next week if he can fit us in.”
Fit them in?
I laugh to myself as I take the fat envelope. “Will do.”
I walk down the rest of the steps and to my house, where Mom is on the front porch, looking through a magazine. She looks up when I step onto
our
porch steps, and they creak under my feet.
“Ahh, there you are, Hadley! I saw the limo leave and figured you’d be home soon enough.”
“Yeah, Lana just wanted me to help her out with some last minute stuff and fix her hair.”
She cringes. “Was it bad?”
“It definitely wasn’t prom ready. Maybe ten year class reunion.”
“Ouch. Glad you could help her.”
“Me, too. Oh, I almost forgot. Mrs. Jamison told me to give this to Dad.” I show her the envelope. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s resting.”
“Do you know anything about him working?” I ask.
“He’s been taking on odd jobs here and there around town. He’s getting better, Hadley. Getting better every day.” She beams. You can tell she’s proud of him. She always has been, though.
“That’s good. Should I leave this with you or bring it to him, then?” I ask
“Leaving it with me is fine. I’ll give it to him when he comes down.”
I hand her the envelope, then head inside where I grab an apple and head to my room to read. When I reach my room, I fall on my bed and try to think of what to do. I can’t text Lana or go to her house. I could role-play with Skylar or Bee, but they probably don’t want to.
I scroll through Instagram aimlessly and spot some prom pictures.
They are at the lake to take pictures?
There’s one of Claire and Lana standing on the banks of the inlet. Claire’s hair is just as I left her. Lana’s hair is still beautiful, too, and I personally think Lana looks better.
I keep scrolling and stop when I see a picture of Pax and Claire, of course posted by Claire. The comment is
With da bae #BlueValleyProm
. His eyes and their calming effect take hold, and any silly jealously I might have had before washes away like the tide swept through.
There are also pictures of Pax, Claire, Lana, and Joey ‘Freaking’ White. Claire and Lana seem to be getting along. There are even a few pictures posted of just the two of them.
I scroll and scroll, and before I know it, it’s ten thirty.
I head into the 80s bathroom, apply mascara and lip gloss, and then sit on the drab wooden stool in front of the mirror. I comb through my hair and frown.
What am I going to do with this mop?
I think to myself.
I return to my room and pull a white tank top and a blue, green, and purple floral skirt along with a denim jacket and a pair of white flip-flops from my small closet. Returning to the bathroom, I sit back down, still thinking. I scroll online until ten forty-five, and after putting in and taking out about five hairstyles, I settle for a milkmaid braid.
As I sit on my bed, the demon cat jumps up, scaring the living daylights out of me. Then he looks at me, seems to roll his eyes, and licks his paws.
“Yolo, get off my bed,” I say, snapping my fingers.
He plops down and rolls over, as if he wants me to rub his belly.