“Yes, ma'am. It was custom.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t worry, I plan to detail every inch of it after school so that you don’t get any part of yourself dirty. I wouldn’t want you to ruin your dress.” He’s smirking again.
I make a face. I don’t care if I ruin my dress. If I had my way, I'd wear jeans and a sweatshirt like everyone else will be. Everyone seems to be so thrilled to the fact that I’m to be paraded around like a Barbie doll – Homecoming Parade Barbie – complete with her pink convertible. Okay, black convertible, but whatever.
“What’s the face for?” he asks after examining me for a second.
“It’s nothing.” I lie.
“Breckin,” he says authoritatively. He eyes me with knitted eyebrows and now stands with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m just not looking forward to tonight very much.” I confess quietly.
“Why not?” He almost sounds exasperated.
I hesitate for a few seconds. Will he think that I’m being ridiculous, too? I decide that it doesn’t matter because I’ll tell him anyway.
“I’ve never really been in to the whole homecoming thing, and now here I am, thrown smack dab into the middle of it all. And to be perfectly honest, I still don’t think that I was meant to be nominated in the first place. There must’ve been a mistake.”
I see a few emotions flash over his face. The most obvious ones being shock and uncertainty. After composing his incredulity, he nods once. “I see.”
“You think I’m being impossible, don’t you?”
“No, not impossible,” he replies and then abruptly stops as if he thinks better of what he’s going to say next. Instead, he smiles and says, “I promise to make this an exceptional night for you, Breckin.” Then with another wink, Liam turns around to walk away.
My head spins from his promise and I begin to daydream. I now have been overcome with visions of Liam and myself holding hands, wrapping my arms around him and then in response he scoops me up into his arms, nuzzling my neck, his lips on my forehead, then my lips… I jump when the shrill ring of the bell sounds.
The day passes too fast. Even though I have the echo of Liam’s promise in my head, I still am not looking forward to getting dressed up and having to be put on display like a science project. This will be so embarrassing. The afternoon assembly designed to get the student body pumped for tonight’s game, cutting into Calculus class, robs me of the chance to see Liam before school ends. The only glimpse I get of him is when I see him driving from the parking lot as I listen to Morgan and Claire squealing excitedly in my ear.
“Okay, so Claire and I are going to go home and change. You have everything laid out for tonight, right?” Morgan shrieks in an octave higher than normal.
“Sure.” I reply as I watch Liam’s car disappear.
“Have you even gotten your dress out of the closet?” Claire asks in a voice that makes me think she already knows my answer.
“Er, no. I’m sure it still fits, it’s not like I’m any different in size from six months ago.”
“That’s not what I meant! It’s probably all wrinkled!”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” I crinkle my nose.
I manage a look over to Claire and she is visibly put out by my lack of planning. I am every seamstress’s nightmare. I find it a little amusing though, and suck in my cheeks to fight back a smile.
“It’s fine, my mom has a steamer. I’ll just bring it over when we come to help you do your hair.” Morgan soothes.
I stick my tongue out at Claire and she narrows her eyes. To my extreme surprise, I’m now starting to feel just a little bit excited. I’m sure that it’s because in just a few short hours I will be with Liam. I smile widely at the image it paints in my head and Morgan misunderstands.
“There’s the enthusiasm I’m looking for! See, it’ll be fun!” Morgan squeals.
“Yep. Fun.” I agree.
Claire and Morgan rush to their cars after that and I trudge to my ol’ gal. As I climb – literally – back into my monstrosity of a vehicle, I notice Morgan running back toward me.
“What’s up?” I call, rolling down my window.
“I almost forgot!”
“What did you forget? I promise to get my dress out of the closet when I get home. Okay?”
“No, not that. The new boy, Liam. He asked me to give you this. Said he was sorry that he couldn’t give it to you in person but trusted me to get it to you. And holy hell is he hot!” Morgan hands me a small folded piece of white paper and when I take it from her, she giggles. “I’ll see you in a bit!” she calls over her shoulder.
I scrutinize the small folded note which has my name scrawled across it. I hold it in between my hands for a few seconds and then open it. Inside it reads:
I’ll see you tonight. Please take a deep breath.
Enjoy this. You’ll have fun, I promise.
-Liam
I stare at the paper and read it over and over again, smiling hugely. Maybe I will have fun now that Liam is to be a part of it. Okay, there will be no maybe about it. I know that surely if Liam is involved, I’ll have fun no matter what. We could be tromping around in pig poop and I’m sure it’d be ideal if I had Liam by my side.
I decide to shower when I got home. I’d already taken one this morning, but somehow the idea of being freshly bathed puts a better outlook on the evening ahead. When my hair is dry, I throw on a button up shirt – as instructed by Morgan – so that my curls won’t be harmed when I change clothes later. I walk to my closet and eye the long gray garment bag that holds my dress. It’s been shoved to the back behind many other articles of clothing and as I reach for it, I’m sure that it will be wrinkled. I’m going to be in so much trouble with Claire. I pull down the zipper and cringe. To my astonishment however, it’s just as I’ve remembered it.
The long black dress hangs from the satin hanger by its thin, rhinestone straps, and the smooth material flows like a dark luminescent waterfall at midnight. I remove the dress from the hanger to closer examine it and as I turn it around, an opening in the flow of the silky fabric catches my eye. Okay, so it’s almost as I’d remembered it. On the right side of the dress is a slit that reaches a couple of inches above my knee, and when I sit down, the slit comes a little higher than that up my thigh. Huh, I’d thought that I would’ve remembered something like that but it appears that isn’t so.
Fan-freaking-tastic. This is all I need. A flipping slit revealing more skin as I sit atop a car, in a parade, with all eyes on me. Life is so grand.
Claire and Morgan arrive shortly after my minor melt down, and as promised, Morgan has brought along her mom’s steamer. My dress isn’t wrinkled, but she insists on going over it anyway, stating that it will make the material look new as well as give it a fresh, clean smell. I don’t argue. It doesn’t appear that I’ll get my way even if I do.
While Claire begins working on my hair, Morgan paints both my toenails and fingernails with a brilliant pink polish. My nails are dry long before Claire is done with my hair, so Morgan starts working on my makeup. Morgan powders and lines and paints my face for what seems to be much longer than I’ve ever spent on my appearance. After she carefully applies black mascara to my lashes, Morgan moves to help Claire finish my hair.
When they are both done – after what feels like hours – I am allowed to move. As I stand up from the small stool that I’ve been uncomfortably perched upon, I stretch, letting my muscles burn as blood flow returns, but then wobble from becoming light headed after sitting too long. I stagger, but manage to catch myself on the bathroom counter. I don’t need any help dressing, but both girls insist on assisting me – probably from my lack of balance – into my dress and shoes. I fidget and try smoothing the already even fabric over my body and then rummage mindlessly through my small jewelry box for a suitable bracelet or necklace that will match my attire. After finding a sparkly imitation diamond bracelet, I hand it to Claire so that she
can clasp it around my wrist.
“There,” Claire says as she steps back. “You look beautiful.”
“So gorgeous!” Morgan agrees.
I turn to the full length mirror that hangs on the back of my door and gaze back at my reflection. There are big curls hanging down my back and some have been partially pinned away from my face, although a few tendrils are left to dangle around my cheeks. My eyes are surrounded in a smoky black eyeshadow and liner and I wonder to myself how Morgan has managed to get my lashes to look so long and thick. I have to admit, I love it. I've never looked so mysterious and enchanting at the same time. My lips shine with a gloss that subtly matches my nails and smells of strawberries. But when I look at the dress hanging from my thin frame, I can’t remember it fitting quite this snug before. Had it always fit so tightly? I can’t remember. Maybe it’s time to lay off the donuts. I have to admit that I don’t look all that bad though, but then feel a little bit arrogant to think that way.
“You look hot!” Sera chimes in excitedly. My eyes bug as her voice registers, but I make no move to acknowledge her. I instead turn toward my entourage.
“Thank you, guys, for your help. I know that I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” I say with a genuine smile.
They both grin and simultaneously say, “You’re welcome.”
Elly arrives home as we’re all heading out.
“Oh my goodness, let me look at you!” she says with a wide grin, setting down her keys. “Just beautiful. You’ll break hearts. Now, I’ll meet you just before halftime, right?”
“Yes, Mom, we’re lining up to the back of the football field ten minutes before halftime. You don’t need to be there before that if you don’t want to. Just be there by eight o’clock.”
Elly doesn’t really like the crowds these types of things tend to attract, and she is usually exhausted at the end of the day, so I know that she won’t want to spend any more time than necessary at the event. The other girls will have their fathers as their escort, but I am more than happy and proud to have my mom as mine. That’s the way it should be.
“Don’t be silly,” she tries reassuring me, “I’m bringing Christine from work along, and we plan on going to the parade as well.”
“That’s nice, Ms. Nicolai,” Claire chimes in. “Try to stand at the four corners under the light. That way you’ll be sure to get a good view of everything in the parade. Are you bringing a camera?”
“Thanks, Claire, and yes, I am. Do you know what kind of car you’ll be riding in, Breckin?” Elly asks as she starts toward her room. “That way I’ll know which one to look for.”
My eyes grow wide and I can’t stop the smile that has now spread across my glossy lips. Elly knows of my infatuation with Liam, but I’ve been very careful not to let my friends in on the secret. I compose my face before turning to shout out my answer.
“I’m actually riding in Liam’s car.” Morgan and Claire exchange a glance and then they both turn toward me, mimicking my smile. “What?” I ask to their expressions.
“He’s cute! That's the foreign exchange student, right? How did you get so lucky?” Morgan asks in her usual excited squeal.
“Cute is a brand new puppy. This guy is friggin' gorgeous. And I’ve noticed how he looks at you, too.” Claire adds.
This surprises me. Sure, I’ve noticed Liam glancing my way every once and awhile, but it isn’t all that often. When he does, his face remains well composed as to not give anything he feels for me away. And I’m surely the one that looks at him more than he does me.
“What do you mean, the way he looks at me?” I ask, truly intrigued.
“Well, I know that whenever I happen to see him walking past you in the hall for instance, Liam always makes it a point to look for you. His eyes always stay on you a little longer than what would be considered a polite glance, if you get what I mean. Although I don’t think he means for anyone to see. He’s pretty sly about it.”
“He’s just a friend,” I insist.
“Sure, a friend that maybe you’d like to be a little bit more I’ll bet,” Claire teases.
“What?” I squeak.
“Hey, I’m not one to judge.” Claire silently ticks off to the number three on her fingers.
“And he gave her a love note today!” Morgan adds.
“It wasn’t a love note,” I snap.
“So when are you breaking up with Ben?” Claire says bluntly.
“What!” I gasp again, feeling somewhat giddy and annoyed at the same time.
“Oh, c’mon! I’m surprised that you haven’t yet already. I’m not really sure why you’re still with him anyway. Is he even gracing us with his presence tonight?”
Does everyone see that there is no reason at all that I should still be with him? Apparently so.
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.” I answer, then realizing I don’t care. I hope that Ben doesn’t show up. Did I tell him that I was nominated? I don’t think I did – I didn’t tell anybody that didn’t need to be in the know. I’m willing to bet that Axel has opened his big trap about it, though, being he talks to him more regularly than I do.
“You’d better get going girls. You don’t want to be late,” Elly interjects as she exits from her bedroom, now wearing jeans and a black sweater as opposed to her usual work scrubs. I am very thankful for the directional change of our conversation.
“What time is it?” Morgan asks while she looks down to her bright lime-green wristwatch. “Oh crap! We’ve gotta go! There are only fifteen minutes until you have to be there!”
Both girls then grab my hands and hurriedly escort me to Claire’s awaiting car. Elly kisses me on the forehead on my way by and hands me her long black dress coat. Sera appears next to Elly’s side with both a parental look of approval and pure teenage excitement smeared across her transparent face. I shoot both of them a panicked glance as the realization of what I’m about to do hits me. I am suddenly nauseated with nerves and I can feel a trace of sweat threatening to bead over my brows.
At least the ride is less stressful with Claire driving rather than Morgan. The sun has begun to set, resting low in the sky and it’s warm for mid-October. I remain quiet, gazing at the puffy white clouds and the colorful trees until we arrive at the school. I concentrate on keeping my breaths even and steady while my facial expression probably looks as though I’m getting ready to be thrown into a snake pit. I nervously look around to the eager crowd awaiting to start the parade as we pull into the school's parking lot. Underclassman excitedly and hurriedly make last minute preparations to their floats and the cheerleaders are practicing their choreographed march. The band is busy tuning their instruments and then I see that Amber, Mariah, and Carmen are already perched into their positions atop their assigned convertibles, eager to be put on display. All three are sitting with open compacts in the palms of their hands while fussing with the strands of their hair and applying lip gloss. The last queen candidate sits to the back of the lineup and I squint to see who it is as I clearly wasn’t paying attention the day our names had been announced. I still can’t tell who it is; she’s just a smidgen too far away.
My heart picks up in double time when I spot the shiny black car that promises to be my escort. It’s obvious that Liam has spent a great deal of time – as promised – cleaning and polishing his car. I don’t see him anywhere, but I can’t help the smile playing on my lips. Something I find myself doing more and more thanks to him.
Both girls notice my sudden change in manner when we pull into the parking lot. Claire is the first to say something.
“Would you like me to drop you directly next to his car or stop here?” she asks with a wry smile.
“We wouldn’t want you to walk too far. You might twist your ankle in those heels because it sure doesn’t look like you’ll be focusing much on your walking.” Morgan adds with a smirk.
I eye them both.
“You can stop here, this is fine.” I answer hoarsely, noting that I will need to
walk about thirty yards before reaching Liam’s car. Maybe this will give me enough time to calm down. And I will be sure to walk slowly as heels aren’t a type of shoe I ever wear.
“Wow. He certainly cleans up nice,” Claire says under her breath. “England certainly knows how to breed 'em.”
“Are the driver’s expected to wear suits?” Morgan asks, almost to herself.
As I haven’t yet seen Liam, I look toward his car again and find that he now stands leaning against the driver’s side door. He has his hands in his pants pockets and one foot crossed nonchalantly in front of the other. He wears a black suit with a simple black, button up shirt underneath his jacket. No tie; his shirt is open at the collar looking much like the first day I’d met him. He looks exactly like the bad boy I feel he is capable of being. He’s watching the commotion going on around him and I’m glad that he has yet to notice me. That way I still have time to fidget with my dress and try to calm my shaky nerves. I suck in a deep breath and reach to open the door.
“You look great.” Claire assures as I step out of the car.
“Thank you.” I say doubtfully. I’m still trying to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in my dress.
“There isn’t one thing that I’d change. Stop fidgeting.” Morgan adds. “Oh, and don't cry! You'll screw up your false eyelashes.
“Really? False eyelashes? I'm wearing false...”
“Yes, really.” Morgan rolls her eyes. “Now go get him!” she giggles.
“Does this make me a bad person?” I whisper.
“Are you kidding? We're supposed to be young and dumb right now. I'd say you're doing everything right,” Claire encourages. Of course she would think that; she has three boy-toys.
I raise my eyebrows at their enthusiasm to my potential attempt at pursuing someone other than my boyfriend, and then turn toward the direction Liam is waiting. He still hasn’t seen me, and so, I start very slowly walking toward his car. I fear that I might trip and fall or twist an ankle in the ridiculous heels I have on, so the slow pace is necessary. Liam is still coolly looking around and I note that a handful of girls are gawking at him as they pass by. He doesn’t seem to notice them, and when I finally reach him, I take another deep breath in to speak.
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