Liars and Losers Like Us(45)

TODD.

Hey Lover, don’t hate me but I have to babysit my cousins tonight—just found out! I’ll try to come by ur house after! XOXO-TDubs

Lover? T Dubs? Ugh. What a douche bag. Actually, a douche bag is too good for him. He shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near vaginas. Todd White is an enema bag. At least I’m here for Kallie and hopefully I won’t need to hold her back from fighting Jane.

I eye my reflection and frown. This dress is so not me. The top is like an explosion of taffeta and little wires of shiny black beads. The bottom’s way too short and it’s so tight on my hips that it’s bunching at my waist.

“Psst, it’s me. Hide your ass, hide your twins!” Kallie swooshes back into the dressing room with a grin. “That dress is a no. It’s like hooker meets …”

“Nineteen eighties stripper?” I ask.

“Exactly. Try the silver one. It’s hot without looking strippery.”

I watch from the corner of my eye as she picks up her phone and lets out a long hiss between her teeth.

“Don’t tell me,” I say, “Todd?”

“What? No,” she says fumbling around in her bag. “Just my mom wanting to know if I’ll be home in time for dinner.” She zips me into the silver dress with a strained smile. “This is the one. You’re stunning.”

“I think you’re right,” I agree, juggling my enthusiasm for the dress with the reality that my best friend is most definitely getting dicked around by this jerk. And there’s nothing I can do about it. Not to mention the fact that she just lied to me. This Prom thing has really become a pain in the ass. She’s right about one thing though. This dress is the one. I can’t help but wonder what Sean will think. It’s form fitting, long and slinky, showing off the golden tone of my skin and the random spray of beauty marks across my bare shoulders. Best of all, it accentuates the curve of my hips that I used to try to hide.

All I can do now is follow Kallie’s lead and act like I don’t care about what we just witnessed. If Todd and Jane aren’t going to ruin Prom for Kallie, they’re not going to ruin mine either. I pile my hair up onto my head, strike my best model pose in the mirror, and wink at Kallie. Click. No problems here. Prom Court ready.

****

“So, let me see that dress you bought last weekend.” Sean walks over to my closet door.

“Don’t even.” I jump from my beanbag and sashay in-between the closet door and Sean. He bounds over to my wide-open bedroom door instead and closes it with quiet stealth.

“You’re gonna get in trouble.” I smile and push him onto my bed.

“Feels like you’re the one looking to get in trouble.” Sean bounces back up and props a pillow between him and my headboard.

It’s the first time Sean and I have been together in my room. In any room, alone. I can see why my mom told me to leave my door open. Rather, I can feel it. Horny teenagers.

“So, what do you want to do? Hang out here or go somewhere?” I ignore the ache.

“I don’t care—whatever you want. I’m just glad you’re hanging out with me. And not sick, tired, or maybe blowing me off. I almost thought I was going to take Justin Conner to Prom. You had me worried.”

“Yeah well …”

“Yeah well, what?” Sean pats the space next to him on my bed.

“Scoot over.” I sit, leaning up against the headboard next to him, extending my legs, and feeling a warm blaze as his thigh brushes against mine. “It’s silver.”

“What?”

“My dress. It’s silver.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess we’re back to talking about your dress.

“Well, supposedly it’s an important detail. Kallie says you’re s’posed to match it to some of your tux accessories and the corsage.”

“Oh, right. My mom asked me about that. Hey, stop trying to distract me from the real issue here. Why haven’t you wanted to hang out? I don’t think any of our phone conversations lately have been longer than five minutes.”

I drum my fingers on my knee. “I’ve been lame, I know. To be honest …” As if I can really be honest. Tell him I’ve spent the last two weeks since Maisey’s wake beating myself up with worry, anxiety, and regrets. How I’m not sure I deserve to be with someone so great, getting ready for Prom when all this other f*cked up stuff is buzzing in my head. Tell him how Maisey’s eyes have been haunting me, staring, lifeless and bitter. Ask him to read me the letter she wrote that’s still hiding, unread, in the pillowcase just inches away from him. Or tell him that because of all this, I feel like I want him even more than I’d care to admit. Tell him that I’m over my head, beyond crushed and crazy about him. That it’s something that means and feels more than I can explain as the warmest meltiest loveliest ball of good feelings swishing around my stomach, my brain, in my everything, everywhere and I’m not looking to get hurt in the end.

“You were saying? To be honest?” Sean smiles, waiting for me to fill the silence I’ve created and filled with tension.

“This whole Prom thing is getting mega stressful, that’s all. I guess I have a hard time knowing where I fit in. Because I don’t.”

“What do you mean, you don’t fit in? That doesn’t make sense. You have friends. Everyone likes you.”