Ella's Twisted Senior Year(43)
I roll my eyes and stomp to the dressing room. The moment the dress falls over my body, I know it’s the one. I mean, if there was one if I was actually certain about going to prom. It hugs my body perfectly and no matter which way I twist in the three sided mirror, it looks like I’m a Disney princess come to life. And that’s saying something because I’m not wearing any makeup and my hair is in a messy bun.
I open the fitting room door and step out. April’s jaw falls to the floor. “Oh. My. God.”
I hold back a squeal. “I know, right?”
She rushes forward and touches the rhinestones on the shoulders. She’s still wearing that god-awful black dress. “This is the one. And it’s hella cheap. Oh my god, you have to get it now.”
I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. “I can’t. I don’t have any money.”
“Just bake more cupcakes,” April says. “The twins have a birthday next month. We’ll get my mom to order and pay in advance.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to be a hundred and fifty-five dollars plus tax worth of cupcakes. Plus, I give her a discount because she’s family.”
She looks at me in the mirror. “So you’ll bake more cupcakes! Let’s get your website up and running so you can take orders.”
I hold up a finger. “First of all, any money I earn I should be going toward more supplies. Secondly, I can’t just use the Poe’s kitchen any time I want. I’m a guest in their home, not a paying tenant or anything.”
April groans. “Fine, let me take a picture.” She takes my phone from my purse and steps back, angling the camera to get a full body shot of me in this beautiful dress.
On the drive back home, April scrolls through her own phone, examining all the selfies she took of each dress she tried on. “I think the blue one is definitely the winner,” she says, glancing into the backseat where it hangs in a garment bag. She presses the phone to her chest. “Toby is going to drop dead when he sees me in it.”
I reach over and turn down the radio, desperate to change the subject. This day started out as a boring trip to look at dresses I didn’t care about, but it ended with me longing like crazy for a stunning pink gown that I’ll never be able to afford.
“New subject,” I say, ready to put the longing behind me and focus on more important things. “I’m going to take Kennedy Price down for what she did to Ethan. You want to help me?”
Chapter 23
With Toby’s help, I design a shirt for his mom’s daycare kids. She wants something cute and kid-like for their summer field trips so every kid can wear a matching shirt. Drawing cartoon kids holding hands on a merry-go-round isn’t my typical style of artwork, but in the end, it looks pretty good. Definitely like something you’d see on daycare kids.
I set the price as low as the vender allows that way she can order a lot of them for cheap.
After, Toby watches on while I sketch up a few more ideas I’ve had brewing in my head for a while. I try to stick to pop culture and things that are popular around the school, although weirdly, one of my most popular designs is what I call the Street Signs collection. I’d sketched this green and white street sign on a pole, giving it a retro vibe and then I made one for each street in the town. People buy them to represent their neighborhood and a few Homeowner Associations have commissioned me to make custom shirts for them.
Boring shirts like that aren’t exactly my favorite thing to do, but it brings in money and as a future business owner, I’m learning that a steady income isn’t dependent on what makes you happy.
Now if only I can convince my dad that I know what I’m doing and don’t need to focus on freaking football forever.
When Toby finally leaves, I’m dying to hang out with Ella. She’s been back from dress shopping for a few hours now, but she’s been cooped up in the rec room working on her political shark president project.
I head down to the kitchen and make two root beer floats in Mom’s fancy glasses, using the real ice cream Mrs. Lockhart keeps in the freezer. When I tap on the door with my knuckles, Ella calls out, “Come in.”
I find her sitting on the window sill that overlooks her old house. The black solar-blocking curtains that keep the room dark enough for good movie watching have been pulled back, letting in all of the evening sunshine.
“It’s all gone now,” she says, gazing out at the empty slab that used to have a house on top of it. The cleanup crews have done an excellent job of removing all traces of the old house.
I rub my hand over her back, resting my chin on her shoulder. “Wait, is that a real estate sign?”
She nods.
“Your parents are really selling the land, then?”
Another nod. “As soon as they find a house, we won’t be neighbors anymore.”
I kiss the back of her neck and hand her a root beer float. “That doesn’t mean we won’t get to spend all our time together.”
She peers down at the glass. “Is this real sugar or some kind of tofu dessert?”
“It’s real.”
“You’re the best.” She sets her phone down on the window sill and I notice the screen is still on.
“Is that you?” I ask, grabbing the phone. She’s in a fitting room wearing a beautiful dress. She’s smiling but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Damn, you look hot.”