Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
They both look so pretty, showing more skin and wearing more makeup than I’ve seen on them so far. Wren tosses her shoulder length hair over her shoulder, and I catch the scent of her shampoo and perfume before she leans in for an impulsive hug. I’m so surprised, I don’t know what to do, so I just stand stiff before patting her back. What is wrong with me? These girls are going to give up on me pretty soon. It might be easier if they do. I won’t have to wrestle with wishing I could be more like them.
“Here, have a drink.” Maya holds out a cup filled with ice and a pink-colored concoction. “It’s pink vodka and lemon-lime soda. You’ll love it.”
“I don’t really drink.” Though it does kind of smell good.
“Give it a shot. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to finish it.” Wren stands in the center of the room, hands on her hips. “Closet?” I point to the closed door on the other side of the room, next to the bathroom door, and she scurries over to it.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My shoulders start to creep up around my ears, and my skin feels too hot and prickly all of a sudden. This is all wrong. It’s too much. I don’t know what to do.
“I like your room.” Maya takes her purse off her shoulder and sets it on the dresser, then unzips it and starts pulling out makeup.
“Thanks. What are you doing?” I ask her—the second time I’ve had to ask that question in ten seconds. It’s like I’m standing in the middle of a storm that won’t stop swirling around me, no matter how much I wish it would.
“Getting you ready to go to the party.” Eyeing my cup, Maya adds, “Maybe take a few sips of that. It’ll loosen you up.”
“We can’t stand the idea of you being up here all alone. It’s too depressing.” Wren reappears with a few dresses over one arm. “You have so many cute things in there!”
Dresses Mom picked out for me—the kind of clothes she wishes I would wear. “I never feel right in things like that.” I sink onto the bed, then raise the cup to my lips because why not? I might as well at least give it a try. The fruity soda is sweet and refreshing. There’s only the slightest taste of alcohol on the back of my tongue before I swallow. This could be dangerous.
The whole situation could be dangerous.
“I bet we could pull this up into a bun.” Maya touches a hand to my hair, letting it slide through her fingers. “It’s so pretty, and it would be nice to see it pulled up, away from your face.”
“I don’t know. I’m… I’m not used to any of this.” Another sip of my drink doesn’t give me any of the liquid courage I’ve always heard about.
“Sometimes you just need to jump in and figure things out as you go along.” Wren holds up two different dresses, both of which are the short, tight kind Mom loves to wear. “Which one do you think?”
“She can try them both on,” Maya decides. “Then we’ll play around with makeup a little bit.”
“You girls don’t have to do any of this.” I feel my protests getting weaker, not that it matters since they haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. I can’t decide if they’re being too kind or maybe slightly pushy.
It’s the first time anybody’s bothered being pushy in a positive way in a long time. Mom’s just a bully about it. But their hearts are in the right place. That much I believe.
“Okay, I’ll try the dresses on.” The girls cheer, and my face flushes. I might actually enjoy myself a little bit tonight.
Except… “Carter is going to hate this.” My gaze bounces back and forth between the girls. “He ordered me not to come downstairs for any reason.”
“He’s all talk.” Wren sounds pretty sure of herself. “Besides, it’s your house too. Like we said yesterday. You have a right to go downstairs in your own house.”
“And if you happen to be wearing a killer dress while you do it, oh well.” Maya shrugs her shoulders.
She’s right. I belong here. And I can always come back upstairs if things are too much for me to handle. That thought gives me a little more courage as I take the dresses back to the closet, where I try them on in front of the full-length mirror inside.
If anything, Carter deserves this. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so mean to me. Maybe he’ll learn he can’t get away with saying and doing whatever he wants.
“Can I have my drink?” I call out while trying on a black dress that barely falls halfway down my thighs. I don’t know what Mom was thinking when she picked it out for me. It makes my already pale skin look ghostly white.