Page 104 of The Prom Queen Project
And that’s when I knew—I had to talk to my parents. I had to tell them about my anxiety.
Twenty-five
A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I plopped onto my bed, the lace of my crimson dress dancing as I fell backward. My fingers twisted the fabric as I stroked the silk lying at my sides. The fresh aroma of vanilla tinged the air with its soft notes of cherry, accompanying the smell.
Unlike Homecoming, my Prom dress was a sleek mermaid-style gown that fell to the floor with a sweeping train that trailed behind me. A soft smile grazed my lips as I peered up at the ceiling. It took four stores at the Summerville Mall and an empty wallet, but I finally found the perfect dress.I was ready.
Sitting upright, I pushed myself off the mattress. My black strappy heels dug into the fuzzy carpet as I approached the mirror. I inhaled deeply, staring at my reflection. My eyes dartedtoward my vanity, where the Polaroid of Jessie stared back at me.
Tonight was the night.
The chime of the doorbell was muffled through the walls, yet still so loud. Maybe it was because I was waiting for it. I dashed down the hall, nearly tripping over my long train as I galloped down the stairs. Clawing at the doorknob, I yanked it open, a cool breeze welcoming me as Elliot’s gaze met mine. My breathing hitched.
Wow.
Elliot wasresting his arm against the door frame with a deep red blazer jacket thrown neatly over his shoulder. A black dress shirt was tucked into his slacks. Don’t even get me started on his hair. It looked slicked back with a small amount of gel, but not even that could stop a single strand from falling in front of his forehead.
“Abercrombie, indeed,” I hummed.
“And my Princess,” he whispered, pulling me toward him. “You look absolutely stunning.”
“And you look like you walked off the cover of a magazine.”
“I know.”
I grinned, a smug look spilling onto my face. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“The model thing,” I said with an upward tilt of my chin. “That pose.”
“Maybe I was a model in another life.”
I chuckled quietly, waving him inside. As soon as his foot made contact with the tile, Cleo dashed over to him, purring loudly as she nuzzled her head against his leg. Elliot nearly jumped out of his skin as he looked down at her, terror laced in his eyes. A smirk replaced my smile. Throwing one arm over the other, I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“So, youareafraid of cats.”
Before he could reply, my parents approached with wide grins. I grimaced, preparing for the worst.
“You guys look fire!”
“Dad,” I groaned.
“Oh, let me get my phone! I need a picture,” my mom said as she flailed her arms and ran over to her purse.
“Mom,” I muttered while sagging my shoulders. “Please, no.”
Elliot put his hands gently on my hips and shuffled me toward the staircase.
“Oh, come on, Clarke. Live a little. Besides, I look too good to miss an opportunity like this.”
My nostrils flared as I narrowed my eyes in his direction. As we stood in front of the staircase, a few inches apart, my body was as rigid as a statue. My mother gestured for us to smile as she held her phone at eye level, my dad peering over her shoulder, trying to assist.
“Is the flash on?” My mom tapped at the screen incessantly. “Christopher, how do you work this thing?”
My shoulders hunched as I bowed my head, shaking it slightly. I let out a measured breath through my nose.
“Jesus Christ, this is going to take forever,” I whispered under my breath.
