by Noelle Marie
Looking ridiculously pleased, he did so.
They continued to go through dresses for close to an hour. Miles’ eyes all but bugged out of his head as they took in gowns with plunging necklines and see-through panels. (He steered her well clear of them.) Emma laughed outright when he came across a black dress – if it could even be called a dress – that covered little more than a two piece swimsuit would, muttering obscenities to himself as he quickly tossed it aside.
After adding a couple more dresses to her pile of ones to try on – including a few she reluctantly agreed to test out for the sake of her father – Emma was stripping off her clothes in the dressing room.
From there, Emma tried on one gown after another, coming out to show her dad each one at his insistence. His comments were oddly helpful if one was proficient in Miles-speak, which luckily, as his daughter, Emma was.
“That one’s awfully sparkly.” Too many jeweled embellishments.
“It doesn’t really leave a lot to the imagination.” I’m not letting you out of the house in that.
“I didn't know feathers were a thing.” What in the hell is this now?
“You should try one that’s a brighter color.” Aqua washes you out.
While all of the dresses that Emma zippered and buttoned herself into were pretty in their own way, she’d gone through over half of the pile of gowns without feeling a real affinity for any of them until she tried on the yellow – almost gold, really – one that her father had picked out and she’d agreed to try on out of grace.
When she looked up to examine her reflection in the mirror, however, true surprise had her eyebrows shooting upward. Emma didn’t think that yellow was her color – or anyone’s color, really – but something about the dress...
It was a strapless number with a modest sweetheart neckline. The top was in the style of a corset and encrusted with thousands of tiny jewels, while the bottom consisted of a full ankle length skirt that was comprised of layers upon layers of sheer, gold-tinted tulle.
On the hanger the dress had looked positively gaudy. But wearing it… well, Emma almost felt like a princess.
And before that moment, Emma had never realized she wanted to feel like a princess.
Even when she was little and all the other little girls had dressed up as Cinderella or Snow White for Halloween, she’d been the tagalong tomboy in a handmade Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume her dad had created on the fly.
After carefully examining her reflection in the mirror once more, Emma stepped out of the dressing room.
Her dad’s eyes widened as he took her in, his jaw going slightly slack. “You look… you look… wow, Emma.” This is the one.
“You don’t think it’s too much?” she asked nervously, playing with the tulle of the skirt.
“It’s perfect,” her dad assured her. You’re perfect. “How much is it?”
Emma glanced at the price tag, which in hindsight, she probably should have done before even trying on the gown.
400 dollars!
Emma bit her lip. That was way too much money to spend on a dress – let alone a dress she was only going to wear once.
“Maybe I should try on a few more,” she attempted to backtrack. “Plus, I kind of liked that purple one.”
Miles frowned in confusion before realization dawned. “How much?” he asked again, this time more sternly.
Emma sighed. “Four hundred dollars,” she answered honestly, her tone matching the incredulity she felt. “There’s no way I can afford it.”
She still had a few dollars saved up from her summer job as a camp counselor, but certainly not enough to buy this particular dress. She was sure she could find something else that was decent though.
Miles, however, was having none of it.
“Well, it’s a mighty fine thing that you’re not paying then.”
Emma pursed her lips. “Dad, it’s way too-” she attempted to protest.
Miles interrupted her by placing a strong hand on her shoulder and staring her straight in the eyes. “Let me do this.”
Emma looked at her dad. She took in his unyielding expression and the stubborn angle of his chin. And she realized that by agreeing, she was doing him a favor as much as herself.
She took a breath and nodded. “Okay.”
Miles smiled.
The grin didn’t leave his face even after Emma had carefully removed the gown and threw on her street clothes.
He paid for the dress in full.
They left the shop and Emma laid the garment bag that contained the dress onto the back seat of her dad’s truck before hauling herself into the front seat.
“Want to go for ice cream?” Miles asked after she’d pulled her seatbelt across her lap and snapped it into place.
Emma beamed at the reminder of their tradition. When she was younger and they had to go to Springfield for special shopping trips or dentists' appointments, they’d always stop for ice cream at the local ice cream parlor, The Waffle Bowl, afterwards. It was a small business unique to Springfield, and the tiny shop offered so many flavors and combinations of ice cream that her mouth had always watered at the possibilities. Whenever they went, she always tried something new.
“Ice cream sounds wonderful.”
Ten minutes later, Emma was enjoying her cotton candy flavored concoction, topped with crushed Oreo cookies and gummy worms while watching her reliably predictable father eat his plain old chocolate ice cream cone.
He’d gotten the same thing ever since Emma could remember.
Like always, she cajoled him into trying a bite of hers. And as usual, he gave in, attempting to hide his grimace as he swallowed it down with a forced smile. And just like every other time Emma saw that smile, it reminded her that of all the dads in the world, she had the very best.
* * *
Emma was one more hand cramp away from killing her friends.
Not really, of course.
But if some terrible accident did happen to befall them and she was involved, she wasn’t so sure that her attorney could argue convincingly that pre-meditation wasn’t a factor.
It wasn’t that Emma didn’t adore Luca and Collette. (She did.) And it wasn’t that Emma wasn’t happy that they were finally together. (She was.) But one way or another, through no fault of her own, she always ended up roped into their shenanigans.
And that was precisely what being stuck decorating the school gym for the upcoming prom tomorrow was: shenanigans.
It was considered a perk of being a senior to get the afternoon off from classes on the Friday before prom to set up. Unfortunately, she and her fellow seniors hadn’t even come close to finishing the gym’s transformation when the final bell rang at three.
And that was where her friends had come in.
Luca had allowed Lulu, whose “jolly ass” – Collette’s words, not Emma’s – was president of the prom committee, to needle him into staying after school to finish decorating with a dozen or so of their classmates. Collette hadn’t been about to let that go down, of course, and immediately volunteered herself to stay after as well. Which would have been fine and dandy if she hadn’t had volunteered Emma too.
Yeah.
Attending prom was one thing, but setting up for it was another thing all together. Granted, it wouldn’t have been half as bad if Heath was there too, but alas, he had to work.
So there Emma sat on the hard gymnasium floor, her right hand spasming as she attempted to cut large, intricate snowflakes out of white cardboard with a dull, school-supplied scissors. The only plus side of the lackluster blade was that if her unusually violent urges did take hold of her, the weapon likely wasn’t sharp enough to do anyone any real damage.
“Holding up over there, Emma?” Luca called from where he and Collette were unraveling lights and wrapping them around fake trees.
Emma glared, pointing the scissors threateningly. The cheery jerk laughed.
And might she just add that whoever had thought that decora
ting the prom as a winter wonderland had probably been dropped on their head one too many times as a baby? They’d finally gotten rid of the real snow outside. Why would anyone think it was a good idea to cover the inside with fake stuff?
Emma sighed, begrudgingly forcing herself to focus on her task instead of her friends and other classmates.
It was a more difficult task than one might think.
After all, Maribeth and her gang were there. Gunther too. Predictably, he’d asked Maribeth to prom a week after Emma had rejected him. Emma didn't know why Maribeth had agreed. Even she deserved better than that jerk. Even if the blonde was currently waxing prose to her boyfriend about how amazing her dress would look against the wintery backdrop instead of being of any actual help whatsoever. Meanwhile, her followers Bambi and Flower were blowing up various shades of white and blue balloons for the archway, comparing the size of them to the dimensions of their impressive chests as they did.
Emma could not make this stuff up.
“Quit fooling around, you two!”
Emma’s attention once again shifted to Collette and Luca at Lulu’s loud reprimand. The girl was scolding them for what had to have been the fifth time since the final school bell had rung. Her finger was even waving as she dressed down her friends for deciding to wrap a string of lights around Luca and decorate him instead of the tree they were working on.
She demanded they split up, allowing Luca to stay on light duty due to his height, but pointing Collette in Emma’s direction. “It looks like Emma is struggling with those snowflakes. Why don’t you be a dear and go help her out?” Although worded as a question, her tone made it clear that it was anything but.
Collette grumbled about it, looking like she wanted to protest, but resentfully headed over anyway. “Interfering little harpy,” she muttered as she plopped down next to Emma and grabbed a pair of scissors.
“Yes,” Emma agreed, sarcasm saturating her words, “how rude to have someone intrude upon your plans.”
Collette snorted, teasingly bumping her shoulder. “Like you had any plans tonight. Heath works.”
Emma huffed. “So?” she demanded. “My life doesn’t revolve around him.”
Collette raised skeptical eyebrow.
Okay, so maybe it did. A little.
“You’re a lousy friend,” Emma complained, flicking Collette on the ear to make sure the redhead knew she was mostly kidding. “And for the record, I stand by that staying in and reading are legitimate Friday night plans.”
Collette laughed at that, but both were quickly distracted by a commotion on the other side of the gym. Luca had tripped over himself, apparently trying to get away from a forceful Lulu, and fallen down hard on his butt. Lulu, of course, took it as an opportunity to help him up, running her hands up and down his arms as she demanded to know if he was okay.
Collette tensed beside her, accidently cutting through the middle of a snowflake. Emma patted her friend commiseratingly on the back.
“If she touches him again, I swear to God I’m going to strangle her,” Collette muttered.
“Do what you will, but I am not helping you hide the body.”
An hour and a half later – and only one more attempt by Lulu to grab Luca’s junk – the snowflakes were taped to the walls or strung up on the ceiling where appropriate, the balloon archway was finished, and the dozen or so trees set up around the gym were covered in lights and fake snow.
There was still a bit of clean up yet to do, but Emma was exhausted, and according to the clock – it was already past six – and her grumbling stomach, it was time to leave. She was gathering up her belongings with her friends to do just that when Lulu rushed over. Emma just barely managed to withhold a groan.
“Thanks for helping, you guys,” Lulu said, addressing all of them and sounding completely sincere despite the way her gaze eventually settled on Luca. Her eyes glazed over a bit despite the fact that he was holding hands with Collette.
Collette cleared her throat, a furious red blush making its way up her face.
Lulu blinked. “Oh, um, I was just going to say that I think we may need a few more lights for that tree over there.” She pointed at one of the fake evergreens on the other side of the gym. “Do you see its barren branches?”
Emma looked, but frankly, no, she didn’t see them. The tree looked just like all the others speckled throughout the room.
“Luca, do you mind going to the prop room with me to see if there are some extra lights in there before you go?”
And then Emma did see. The excuse was so utterly transparent; it was obviously a ruse to snag some alone time with Luca.
The prop room was way on the other side of the school, down a rarely used hallway beneath a small flight of stairs. Emma seriously doubted they would find a string of lights down there. The drama department had a pathetically low budget as it was as their lackluster production of The Wizard of Oz in the fall had shown.
The dark, secluded room was the perfect place to get up to other things, however. Not that Luca would ever do those things with anyone but Collette.
And that was a visual Emma really didn’t need in her head.
Speaking of Collette, if Emma could see through Lulu’s lame excuse, she knew that her friend could as well. She eyed the girl nervously. Instead of glaring at Lulu, however, Collette’s pleading eyes were zeroed in on her.
And Emma immediately understood.
If Luca agreed to go with Lulu, the girl would throw herself at him. If Collette insisted on going with Lulu, she might murder her. Real murder, not imagined homicide with a dull pair of scissors.
Emma sighed, but begrudgingly spoke up. “I’ll go with you, Lulu.”
“Thanks, Emma,” a relieved Luca immediately intoned.
“Sounds great.” Collette was quick to agree. “Want us to wait around for you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Emma said, turning down her friend’s offer with a shake of her head. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Have a fun night together.” She stressed the word for Lulu’s sake.
Luca and Collette returned her sentiments and took their leave while Emma turned to face a pouting Lulu. “Ready?” she asked.
Lulu frowned, her expression so downtrodden that Emma might have actually felt a smidgeon bad for her. “Oh, well… you can probably handle it, Emma. Head down there and see if you can find those lights. If not, I guess you’re free to go.”
And just like that, that smidgeon disappeared. Emma pursed her lips at the order, but nodded in understanding anyway. Tossing her book bag down on the floor, she headed in the direction of the prop room.
It was half past six and with no other activates going on, the school was basically abandoned. Emma tried not to think of every horror movie she’d ever seen as she trudged down the darkened hallway. The motion-sensitive overhead lights helped chase away her jitters as they lit up her path with every step she took.
Even though the prop room was on the opposite side of the building as the gym, Maple Valley High was a speck of a school and she managed to reach the small staircase that led to it in a matter of minutes. Traipsing down the half dozen steps, she stopped to flip on the light switch – they weren’t motion sensitive here – before meandering down the hallway that the stairs led into.
There were only two rooms down the shortened, dead-end hallway: the prop room and the boiler room. Emma jimmied free the simple bolt lock – she wasn’t really sure the point of it – and opened the door on the left, taking a few steps into the prop room before remembering that it didn’t have any lights. The light from the hallway was too dim to allow her to really see into the room so she fished her cell phone out of her pocket and used it as a make-shift flashlight to look around.
It was a small, dank space with a cement floor and walls. There was even an old drain in the middle of the floor. It was also half-filled with various stage props and costumes, most of which were dusty from lack of use. After half-heartedly searching for a few minutes, Emma gave u
p on her quest to find lights and turned to leave the room.
Only to let out a piercing shriek and drop her phone when she spotted a shadow in the doorway. A burst of adrenaline caused her heart to pound furiously against her ribcage, and it took Emma a few moments to realize that it wasn’t a ghostly girl or grotesque monster standing in front of her.
Unfortunately, she didn’t feel much – if any – relief upon recognizing who was present in the doorway.
Gunther Kingston.
“Well, well,” he said, eyebrows raised to nearly his hairline, “I’ve had girls fall over themselves when they realize I’m in the room, but I don’t think my presence has ever garnered a reaction quite like that before.”
“You scared me,” Emma accused tightly, rubbing a hand over her heart where she could still feel it fluttering away against her chest. “What are you doing here?”
Gunther shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and resting a shoulder against the door frame. “I heard Lulu ask you to come down here.”
It took Emma a minute to absorb that.
“And what?” she asked incredulously. “You just thought you’d follow me?”
Did he even realize what a desperate creep that made him?
Judging by his vague expression, the answer was “no”.
“I thought you might need help,” he said, and Emma didn’t think she’d ever heard such a half-assed excuse in her life. And she’d just got done listening to Lulu attempt to lure Luca down here.
“Well, I don’t,” Emma snapped before bending over to pick her phone up off the floor. “Now move, I was just leaving.”
When Gunther didn’t immediately step out of the doorway and instead pulled himself up to his full height, Emma decided she’d had enough and squeezed herself past him, refusing to acknowledge how her chest was forced to brush against his shoulder as she did.
Gunther, however, wasn’t about to let her get away so easily. He reached out and grabbed her by the elbow before she could escape. “Wait.”
She immediately yanked her limb from his rough grasp, surprised when he not only allowed her to do so, but also held his hands up near his head in a gesture of surrender. “I just want to talk.”