Top Ten Uses for an Unworn Prom Dress (14 page)

“
T
hat's totally unfair,” I said, so softly that I didn't even know if my words had hit the air.

“Alison,” Jared said. “Come on … give us a break.”

I shook my head to silence him. I was grateful that he'd tried to help. But this was between Alison and me.

He gave me a nod and disappeared.

“How do you think I feel?” she spat, yanking the belt on her terry-cloth robe so tight she looked like she was in pain. “You've been my friend since seventh
grade. Every time you've called, come over, gone to the beach house with us—everything. It's been because you want to be with me.

“Now I don't know what to believe. Will you be coming by for me or for my brother? It's like I'm not good enough for you anymore or something.”

“Nothing has to change between us,” I said lamely.

“Oh, yeah? Well, you're sure as hell going to need another best friend if you want to gush about how cute he is. Or complain when he ignores you or forgets your birthday. Or God forbid, if you want to talk about your sex life!”

Got me there.

“And then what happens if you break up?” she went on. “And you hate his guts? So you don't come around here at all anymore? Suddenly I'm caught in the middle? Or do I get dumped, too?”

“No,” I said, emotion welling in my throat. “No, Alison.”

“Or one of you starts cheating or plotting a split? And I'm put in the position of keeping secrets?”

She had clearly put
waaay
more thought into this than I had. I'd just been bumbling along, letting my feelings guide me, trying to make heads or tails out of my life.

Which was where Jared had come in. Making me smile, knocking me back into the box when I got too crazy. Helping my life make sense.

Was that so bad? How often did you find someone who not only set your heart on fire, but did wonderful things with your head, too?

Her face was a thundercloud, emotions flashing like lightning. Anger, sadness, hope.

“You've made really good points,” I admitted. “Things I haven't thought through. But it seems to me that we've been through harder things, and if we try real hard …”

Her expression went stiff. Unrelenting. Telling me I had to choose.

The thing was, there was no choice. Alison was a one-in-a-million friend. She'd stood by me through everything. The problems with my family, guys, Coach Luther. She'd believed in me. Even when I hadn't believed in myself. I couldn't turn my back on her.

Jared … would have to wait. Or understand. Or both.

As would The Dress … apparently destined to live for eternity in its bag behind my door.

“Okay,” I said, and shrugged.

“Okay, what?”

“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “I won't go out with Jared.”

Her brow creased. “You won't?”

“No.” I tried to come up with a smile but couldn't find one. I felt like I was falling into a dark, bottomless hole, spiraling further and further from the light. But Alison was falling right alongside me. Wasn't she?

“You were in my life first. You've been there when I've needed you. If it means that much to you, I won't be with him.”

She studied my face, as if searching for the truth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I managed.

“Okay. Okay, good.” She looked a little stunned, standing there for a minute or so like she didn't believe me, then mumbled, “Uh … I'm going to get in the shower. Then we'll go do something. Like we planned.”

She closed the bathroom door behind her.

I wilted onto her bed. Wanting to cry. To scream. To hit something.

Wanting
my best friend
. So I could huff and sigh and roll my eyes and tell her all about this unfair and terrible predicament. And wait for her to tell me everything I wanted to hear, like how it was going to be all right.

But that so wasn't going to happen.

I'd have to pull myself back together all by myself. I couldn't rely on Alison. And I especially couldn't count on Jared. Not after I released this newest bomb.

Like a sleepwalker, I padded through the living room, kitchen, family room, and out to the attached garage. The garage door was up, and sunlight and a light breeze filtered in across the pavement. Guysized sneakers and blue jeans stuck out from under a Camaro. (With fully intact windows, I noticed.)

I waited, collecting my thoughts. And my nerve. Then, finally, “Jared.”

His torso and head rolled into view. “Hey. You two work things out?”

“Everything's going to be fine,” I spoke, monotone. “As long as I don't have anything to do with you.”

“What? You didn't agree to that, did you?” He bolted up. “That's crap!”

I must have looked as distraught as I felt, because his face suddenly softened, and he moved toward me. I buried my head in his shoulder and for the second time in less than two weeks I spurted waterworks at him. Tears blinded my eyes and choked my throat.

His arms came around me. Strong, protective, caring. Feeling so good, I didn't even care how lame I seemed.

“Aw, come on, Nic. Don't give up.”

Tears sliding down my cheeks, I let out a sob.

“Come on,” Jared said, and stroked my hair. “It'll be okay.”

I didn't deserve him. Here I was trying to throw him away, and he was “being there” for me. I buried my face in his chest.

Alison's voice suddenly cut through the haze that was my brain. I sniffed, wiped the tears from my eyes, dislodged myself from her brother's arms, and turned to her.

Robed, a towel twisted over her wet hair, she had
swollen eyes, too. Crazy as it seemed, I couldn't help thinking that was the fastest shower on record. There was no way she'd used conditioner.

“I'm the one,” she choked out, looking at me.

I shook my head.

“You know, Kylie and the digital picture.” She swallowed hard. “That day you went to your dad's. Kylie saw you leaving and came up to me. Wanting to know if you two were a couple, what the story was.” Wincing, she continued. “I told her he was just taking you to your dad's, no big deal. She started saying all this stuff about how you'd been using me all these years to get close to my brother. How you don't care about girls' feelings, only guys', which is why you tried to steal her boyfriend.”

“That's not true!” I wailed.

She nodded, her movement slow and strained. “I got mad. At her. At you, for putting me in that situation, and mad at myself for buying into it. Next thing I knew, I was telling her about the beer picture, and how I'd use it against you if I had to. Which was just stupid, just something to say. I mean, you and I know it was to keep you away from Rascal, not Jared, but she didn't, right? Anyway, I'd already deleted it. She never had a copy. The
nerve
to try to
blackmail
you.”

I shifted my weight, swimming through a wave of thoughts and emotions. Alison had betrayed me. Sort of. I wanted to be mad. Ticked off. Irate.

Unfortunately, I wasn't always the Great Seer of
the Big Picture, either. I'd blurted out dumb things. Who was I to judge?

“I'm sorry,” Alison said, and teared up herself. “I never thought I'd be the kind of friend who'd backstab.”

“You didn't,” I said gently, and smiled. “Not really. It just goes to show that neither one of us is perfect.” I leaned in for a hug, and pulled back to see her trying to smile.

“Some friend I am, huh, Nic? I rat you out, then tell you to choose between Jared and me. I was so sure you'd choose him. So I could just be mad, and I wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore.”

I took a moment to let her words register. “You don't have to feel guilty. I should have been more sensitive to what you were going through, too.”

Her gaze swept from me to Jared and back again. “You guys are probably perfect for each other. But can you understand how this feels to me? It's like I'm losing my best friend.”

I patted her arm. “Could you give this a try, Alison? I promise you I'll have time for a boyfriend
and
a best friend. And if I do something stupid,” I said, and dropped my voice to a low whisper, as if Jared couldn't hear, “like start to tell you how great your brother is, you have my full permission to whack me upside the head.”

She sniffed and smiled.

He smirked.

Relief did a volcano thing inside me. … I half
expected hot air and confetti to blow out the top of my head.

And can I tell you how much I wanted to put this whole thing behind us and just go to the mall?

•

Jared played chauffeur. But on the way home, he dropped Alison off first. She didn't seem to mind, just said she'd call me later. And I was glad for time alone with Jared.

The best thing about having a sucky life was how sweet it was when it suddenly improved.

I floated inside the house, intending to update my mom on the newest developments. But Mom wasn't alone. Dad was there. With Autumn. And some strange suitcases, clogging up the hallway.

Was I hallucinating—or did Mom have the bigger update?

“Your dad and Autumn are going to spend a couple of nights with us while looking for their own place near here.”

Say what?

“I was offered a job in L.A.,” Dad said from the couch. “Your mom's been nice enough to let me crash here,” he added, and patted a seat cushion. “And we thought maybe you could make space for Autumn in your room?”

Thoughts clashed like cymbals in my head. “Yeah, I guess, but what about Caffeine? Uh, Cathleen?”

“We've separated,” Dad said. He glanced toward his other daughter, who was happily shredding
one of Mom's old
Martha Stewart Living
magazines. “Cathleen agreed it was best that Autumn go with me.”

I stared at the black-haired toddler. The baby who'd been born to infuriate me. To replace me. If my dad was the best parent she had—well, she didn't have much, did she?

Poor thing.

My mom took a couple of steps closer. “Your dad and I worked out an arrangement. Until I'm reinstated at work, or decide what it is I'm going to do, I'm going to be Autumn's day-care provider. In turn, he'll cover our mortgage.”

That
was the goofiest thing I'd ever heard. Mom and Autumn?

My face must have given me away, because Mom excused the two of us and pulled me into the kitchen. “This is a financial arrangement, Nicolette. It allows me to stay home and reassess my career. I'm not looking at Autumn as my ex-husband's daughter, but as your half sister, who has had a tough break, and needs some help.”

Her gaze sharpened. “But that's it, you understand? In a few days, they'll move out. She'll come and go here at the house. But your dad and I will never get back together.”

I nodded. I'd let that dream go ages ago. I was just glad Mom was making strides toward putting her life back together.

Meanwhile, I supposed I could try to be nice.

“Come on, Autumn,” I said, moving back into the living room and offering my hand. “I've got even better magazines to rip up in my room. Magazines full of cute guys.”

To my surprise, she slipped her tiny hand inside mine and came with me. It was sort of sweet. Her footsteps barely made any noise as we padded down the hallway and into my room.

“What that?” she asked, turning and pointing at the garment bag on the back of my door.

Ha! She sure
was
my sister. She could feel the pull of The Dress even through the plastic.

“Only the most beautiful prom dress—uh, homecoming dress—in the entire world.”

“I see! I see!”

I twisted my ring. She was one of the last people in the world I felt deserved that treat. But hey, things weren't always as they seemed. Mom and Dad were friends. Alison and I were best friends again. Jared and I were
more
than friends.

Guess there was room for an upgrade in my sister relationship, too.

I got down on one knee. “Okay, kiddo, but first we wash your hands.” A closer look showed a peanut butter—colored smear on her shirt, and what looked like blue marker on her arm. “Better make it a full bath.”

“I wear it!”

“It's a gazillion sizes too big for you, Autumn.”

But it's just right for me
, I thought, steering her toward the bathroom. I knew that for a fact—I'd tried it on enough. I'd danced in it, sung ballads in it, cried in it. The Dress molded to my body like a second skin, like someone had made it exclusively for me.

And for a dance that I hoped wasn't just about homecoming, but about new beginnings, too.

S
ome people were disappointed that the homecoming dance didn't have a live band or a cutting-edge light system.

Not me.

Nothing could spoil my perfect evening. Not the canned music, not the crappy food, not the high-level security of teachers and parents making sure no couples got close on the dance floor, let alone got jiggy. But I was too busy shaking my dress and my stuff. In
the small space between Jared's tuxedoed body and heaven.

It didn't get any better than this—or so I thought.

The DJ's voice cut through the speakers. “We have a request for an oldie,” he said, and the overhead lights flickered a couple of times. “From one best friend to another.” Without a musical intro came the oh-so-familiar voice of Paul McCartney.

A laugh snaked its way up my throat, and I scanned the sea of faces for a particularly familiar one, undoubtedly smiling under her beauty-parlor halo of red curls.

Jared pulled me and my scrumptious layers of crinoline to his chest. One hundred percent oblivious to the song's pity party significance to me. And driving home the fact that even though Jared and I had been A Recognized Couple for almost a month, Alison and I still had our best-friend secrets.

His body moved in rhythm with the music, with me, with my heart. Snuffing out the painful memories by making new ones.

I closed my eyes. No more thinking.

When the song ended, I opened them to see Alison smirking at me. “I thought you'd like that,” she said, and grabbed my arm, laughing. “Come on, let's go to the girls' room.”

A doubtful frown creased Jared's brow, and he looked at Alison's date, Chas Zachary. (After making next to no official progress with Chas, Alison had
finally asked
him
to the homecoming dance. And he'd been hanging on her like a lovesick puppy ever since. Which goes to show that sometimes crushes are made, not born.)

“Why do I feel like I'm missing something?” Jared asked Chas.

Chas shrugged.

Alison's smile widened. “Girl stuff.”

I gave Jared's arm a be-right-back squeeze and followed her through the gyrating bodies.

The cool hallway air was a welcome relief on my skin, but the bathroom was packed, with some girls primping in front of sinks and mirrors, others in a wiggling line for the stalls. Still, it was fun to see everyone so decked out, to examine one another's dresses in full light.

While we waited, Alison told me that Harrison had gotten his butt thrown out for being drunk. I hadn't seen it but didn't doubt it, either. I'd smelled alcohol on a bunch of people tonight.

Which was plain stupid to me. Was it really worth the risk of being thrown out?

A stall opened. A vision in fluffy lavender emerged—in a dress so captivating that it took me several seconds to glance at the face attached to it. To recognize Zoe.

“Omigod, Zoe, you look so beautiful!” I gushed, and gave her a quick hug.

She beamed. “So do you!”

I leaned in, lowering my voice to confidentially low. “I'm so glad the dance worked out for you.”

She smiled. “Almost didn't. The dress, I mean.” She leaned in closer. “I got lucky—”

A retch and spew from inside one of the stalls stopped our conversation—and all noise. Gazes raced around the bathroom. Arched brows. Smiles. And then names being silently mouthed.

I nudged Alison. She shrugged.

Then a voice, high and loud. “My dress! Oh God, my dress!” The stall door cracked open.

Heath Ledger himself couldn't have pulled me from my front-row seat. I was pretty sure I recognized that voice. …

Kylie staggered out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Littered over a beaded top and flowing chiffon were brown stains and … chunks. “This is a disaster, a frigging disaster!” she slurred. “What if I'm homecoming queen?”

I laughed. Out loud. Then covered my mouth. Real quick. And then I turned to Alison. “Where's your camera phone
now
?”

Alison giggled.

Kylie shot us both a look, then swayed toward the mirror. “Rascal and I
will
win, you know.”

“Oh,” Alison said, holding back another laugh. “I don't doubt that. Chunky.”

We laughed again. We couldn't help it.

Kylie fixed us with her best squint. But with her
makeup all smeared into raccoon eyes, she looked more pathetic than mean.

Alison moved into the empty stall. I followed Zoe out into the hallway.

“You were saying,” I said. “About your dress?”

“Oh, I found a foundation that collects and recycles them. My mom and I went to their shop and I tried on a whole bunch. Of course, when I found this, I knew it was
it
.”

She smiled, and I did, too.

“Anyway, it was totally free. I can keep it if I want, or return it. Isn't that incredible?”

“Incredible,” I agreed.

“I'm going to take it back. I know it sounds crazy, but knowing I'm part of something bigger— sharing it with other girls who are going through hard times—actually makes me like the dress even more.”

Crazy? Crazy wonderful.

These past months had been among the hardest I'd known. How could I have gotten through some of those moments without The Dress? To the naked eye, it was just material and thread. But to me, it had become a coping mechanism—even a friend.

Tonight was my dream come true—but I hadn't thought about what I'd do with my pink dream tomorrow. I just knew the bag was coming off the back of my door. That it was time to move on.

“Call me before you go,” I said impulsively. “Why? You want to come?” “Yeah. I think I do. Me and my dress.” Because suddenly, there was
no doubt
that I'd found the final and totally right use for my dress.