Page 68 of Ice Mechanic

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No, I said we have two different body types.” Rebel’s voice rings with exasperation. Even though I can’t see her, I can imagine her pouting her lips and rolling her eyes. “You need to find a silhouette that’s flattering foryou.”

“At the very least we should have gone to a thrift store. I don’t have money for this,” I grumble.

May pipes up. “Ah-ah, as the head of marketing, we’re using everything in our budget on this dress. I justknowwe’re going to make it all back within a week.”

I purse my lips because none of usknowthat. I had one crazy idea in the heat of the moment and now, instead of snuggling in bed watching car repair videos and reading car manuals, I’m stuck visiting every dress shop in the county.

I’m starting to regret letting May and Rebel in on my plan to get more customers. If I’d just kept my thoughts to myself then,when I inevitably stopped being angry about the comments I overheard, this particular idea would have died a quiet and natural death.

Unfortunately, my sister and best friend are here to keep the vision alive.

I frown as I shimmy the red dress up my hips. It’s a little snug, so I grip both ends and give it a tug like I’m wrenching off a stubborn bolt on the engine.

“Why are you grunting?” Rebel asks. “Is it too tight?”

“Yeah!”

“Stop tugging!” she yells.

I stop immediately.

“Why did you yell?” May complains.

“Your sister can twist the lug nut off a tire with her bare hands. Imagine what she’ll do to fabric if she gives it her full strength.” Rebel’s heelsclick-clackoutside and then I see an arm stick over the top of the stall. Her bracelets dangle to her wrist as she wiggles her fingers. “Give me the dress. I’ll ask if they have a size up.”

I shove the shimmery fabric into her hands. “Maybe look for some other alternatives while you’re out there. That red is too much.”

“I know it’s a lot for you since you prefer dark colors…”

“Dark colors don’t get dirty,” I remind her.

“… but there’s something about this dress, your skin tone and your new highlights that I think will really work together.”

As her heels click away, I swivel and face the mirror in all my half-clad glory. I’m wearing a bra, like an actual one and not the sporty variety that I prefer and my hair is now a gorgeous chocolate brown with highlights.

One of the first places Rebel dragged me to was the hair salon—thankfully, not the one in town where Evan did most of his cheating. The hairdresser originally only wanted highlights doneto my curls, but I was so emotional that I proudly told him to do whatever he thought would be the most dramatic change.

I sat in the chair as the flat iron sizzled like bacon and my curls disappeared before my eyes. Now, I have straight, silky hair that’s so slinky, it slips out of every ponytail clip I own.

Twisting back and forth, I marvel as the bronzy highlights play peek-a-boo with the light. The new color weaves in and out of my dark hair like the sun kissed the top of my head and promised I’d live in an everlasting summer.

It’s nice.

I do miss my curls but… I don’t hate it.

“Here you go!” Rebel shoves the replaced dress over the top of the booth. “You got it?”

“Yeah!”

I shimmy into the red dress and breathe out in relief when it eases over my hips with no resistance. The zipper moves smoothly and I fly out of the dressing room without even looking at myself.

Rebel rises slowly.

May dribbles water down the corner of her lips.

“Are you okay?” I ask my drooling sister.

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