Page 39 of Isabella and the Slipper

“Honey, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You’re not twelve anymore. You’re beautiful. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“I don’t have a dress.”

“My blue bridesmaid dress from Mom’s wedding is perfect. It even has matching slippers. You’re about my size. And I’ll make a matching masquerade mask for it.”

Isabella laughed. “Why don’t you go, then?”

“I have no boyfriend.”

Isabella smiled and looked to her lap. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. I’ll start making your mask.”

Isabella laughed but didn’t protest. Savannah was going to make her do it, no matter what. It was either a brilliant idea or the biggest mistake she’d ever make.

Chapter 12

Isabella stewed about the fall formal dance the rest of the school day. As she slid into her seat in physics class, she wondered if a person could die from being nervous. It sure felt like her heart was going too fast for her body.

Chase walked into the room and grinned at her. He seemed relaxed. She assumed it meant his sister was still doing well. He sat down, then turned to face her. “You going to the game tonight? Delilah said something about you being there. She seemed happy.”

Isabella swallowed. “Yeah.”

His grin widened. “Great! You’ll have fun, I promise.” He tapped her desk and turned back around to listen to Mr.Morgan’s opening joke.

Chase was going to be at the game. And he sounded like he wanted her there. Did that mean anything? Or was she reading more into his smile than was really there?

Thoughts of the fall formal, and now the football game, swirled around in her head. Could she ever have a chance with Chase? Was there a possibility that he could like her, as herself? He seemed happy she was going tonight. Was that just him being polite?

The bell rang before she knew it, and Chase turned to smile at her again. “See you tonight.”

Butterflies skittered around in her stomach. “Okay.”

Since she didn’t have to work after school, she walked straight home, her nerves increasing with every step. After grabbing a cookie from the cupboard, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.

Maybe there’d be time to finish her painting before the game.

She set up her easel and started to work.

The paint took her into another world, as it always did, and two hours later Delilah burst into her room. “Aren’t you getting ready? We’re going to leave soon.”

Isabella stared at the clock. “Why? It doesn’t start for another hour.”

Delilah waved her hands like she was drying her nails. “But we have to go early to get good seats. Honestly, Isabella, you’re—” She stopped short and smiled. “I mean ... hurry up, okay? We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m almost done here.” Isabella touched up the paint on the tree trunk. She’d done it. Gotten the lighting just right. She smiled to herself. This was her finest work yet. Elenore would have to consider giving her some space at the gallery with this one.

Delilah examined the painting. “You’re really good.”

Hope bubbled up inside her. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” Delilah bounced on her toes. “Now get ready! We’re leaving soon!”

Nerves once again shot through her, making her jittery. Ten minutes later, after changing her shirt twice, she finally settled on a blouse with a button-up front. She stuck with her jeans. She didn’t want to be wearing a skirt and have the evening breeze blow it up or something—that would be embarrassing.

She had been planning to eat dinner before the game, but now she didn’t think she could. She sprinted down the steps and waited in the living room.

Ava came in first. “You ready?”

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