Page 54 of Vendetta

The one I had gotten made for myself was simpler than Bexley’s, the satin champagne fabric offering a deep V before cascading down the length of my body like a glove. I adjusted the spaghetti straps on my shoulders, admiring the gown in the floor-length mirror before spinning around to take in the open-back design.

Throwing on my black strappy stilettos, I ran my fingers through the slit that made its way from the ground all the way up to the side of my hip, allowing me to show off my tan leg. It wasmy favorite part of the dress and the main statement, complimenting the simplicity of the gown and adding a little razzle-dazzle.

“Oh my gosh, you look so stunning!” Bexley exclaimed as she stepped out of the bathroom, and I turned to face her. Her gown was meant for her in every possible way, the corset slimming her already thin waist and pushing her smaller breasts to give the smallest amount of cleavage. The different levels of the tulle make her look even taller, adding to her model-esque physique. I had chosen the pale lilac color to compliment her skin tone and red hair, the beautiful strawberry color made even brighter against the contrasting tones. She looked devastatingly beautiful, worthy of a centerpiece in any couture magazine.

“So do you!” I exclaim, “I’m literally at a lack for words. You look gorgeous, Bex.”

She blushed, looking down at herself as I did the same.

“Wanna get wine drunk on the couch and cry to cheesy rom coms in our dresses? I can rent ‘The Notebook’. Ooh, or ‘Bridget Jones’s Diary’!” I offer excitedly.

“Okay, first of all, I’m already drunk” Bexley laughs, sticking her finger in the air as she lightly swayed on her feet. “And second of all, why don’t we… go to the ball, maybe?” she asks nervously.

“Bex—” I start, ready to explain why she knows that I can’t go, but she stops me before I can argue.

“Lan, you’ve been so excited about this dance the entire semester. You literally ordered our dresses the second week of school. I know you want to go, and it’s not fair that you don’t get to just because of some stupid guy. Cashton can get over himself, he doesn’t get to control you like this.”

I had never heard Bexley so adamant about something, let alone being the one defending a social outing. I hated that she was stuck here with me in our dorm instead of out having fun. She was losing her friend group too, in a way, considering that she mostly only hung out with the group whenever I went. I didn’t want her to miss out on anything because of me.

“I doubt we’ll even run into Cashton. I’m not even sure if they’re going,” she continued. “And even if he is there, we can just avoid him at all costs.”

I thought about it for a moment, the wine offering me the bit of courage that I needed and swaying me towards accepting. Maybe Bexley was right. We might not even run into them. For all we knew, they weren’t even planning on going, meaning that we were avoiding the dance for no reason. I knew that Olivia and TJ were going, but that didn’t mean that the others would.

“Okay, okay, I’m in. But I’m getting hammered first, just in case we run into dickhead. You’re right—We’re going to go, and we’re going to have an amazing night.”

“Yay!” she jumped up and down, the wine spilling all over her carpet. “Oh my gosh, we should start getting ready like right now. You’re going to have to help me with my makeup or I’m going to accidentally poke my eye out or something.”

“I got you,” I chuckled, loving how outgoing drunk Bexley was. It was a complete one-eighty from her usual timid self. Drunk Bexley was a hoot.

We both got ready in her bathroom, the his and hers sinks and generous counter space allowing me to dump out all of my cosmetics as we attempted to get ready while jamming to some Taylor Swift, our wine glasses and makeup brushes used as make-shift microphones. I felt my spirits rise for the first time allweek, the buzz rushing through me as laughter spilled throughout the room. I had desperately needed this.

I gave myself a blowout, which proved harder than you would think after the wine I had been consuming all morning. Bexley had me help her with a loose updo, long pieces of her strawberry hair framing her face as I pulled the rest into a messy low bun. We both opted for more natural makeup looks, not trusting ourselves to attempt complicated eye makeup with the state we were in. I did manage to get some fake eyelashes onto both of us, and we finished our looks with tinted lip gloss.

Moving our jamming session into the kitchen once we were dressed and ready, we hooked our arms together as we downed the last of the wine while waiting for our driver.

The Ball was held off-campus at the Chateau, a luxurious hotel downtown. The ballroom was larger than I had expected, the space opening up into a room the size of a football field with ceilings reaching up multiple stories. One side was made of massive French doors all opening up to steps leading down to a beautiful courtyard.

Music reverberated as we made our way through the room, smiles wide on our faces as we locked arms and headed towards the less busy outdoor bar and ordered some champagne—No ID required. Cops typically didn’t bother with things as minimal as underage drinking when our parents were all high-end lawyers, businessmen, and politicians, wanting to stay in their good graces and acknowledging that it would be a waste of their time.

“Let’s go dance!” I insisted, the buzz running through me as I took in the moving bodies inside. I grabbed her hand and pulled her behind me, leading the way through the other studentsuntil we reached the center of the dancefloor before spinning her around and throwing my hand on her shoulder, the other raising my champagne glass to the sky as we sang and moved our bodies.

This was the most fun I’d experienced in the last few weeks, not a care in the world as we belted out the lyrics and danced like nobody was watching. My smile reached my entire face, my cheeks burning from laughing. Bexley looked to be feeling the exact same, the alcohol bringing a blush to her cheeks as she rocked her hips to the beat and threw her head back laughing. I could have stayed in this moment forever, all worries forgotten and Cashton finally off of my mind.

That is, until I looked over Bexley’s shoulder and spotted him through the crowd, leaning back against the bar with his white shirt-sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands in the pockets of his dark slacks, his eyes stuck on me.

Wonderful.

My breath caught in my throat at how handsome he looked, like a chiseled god. It should be against the law for any man to look that devastatingly gorgeous. A shiver raced down my spine, goosebumps raising across my arms as his stare continued to pierce me.

Bexley was too lost to the music to notice, Zayn’s eyes boring into her as he stood posted up by his friend with a cigarette and glass of whiskey in one hand. Kaptan walked up next, turning to look at what his friends were staring at, but my eyes remained locked on Cashton’s as I gulped.

I forced myself to look away, turning Bexley and I to avoid his fiery gaze. My breathing had already heightened involuntarily, the buzz flowing through me as it reached my ears.I downed my glass of champagne, turning to some random guy on my right and stealing his.

“Hey, what the fuck?” he asked as he turned around to face me, his demeanor quickly changing as he took me in.

“Well, hello there,” he started, as his gaze raked up and down my body. “You can steal my drink any time, baby doll.”

Baby doll? Barf.

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