Page 71 of One More Made Up Love Song
Before I can respond, Carina bursts back into the room, pulling a rolling cart full of shoeboxes in behind her. I breathe out a sigh of relief as Natasha appears in the doorway.
“Have I found the right room?” she asks.
“This is it!” Carina says, then she turns and says to me, “I’m so excited!”
The next few minutes are a whirlwind as Wren and Natasha take over my bedroom. They have everything. A three-way mirror. A changing screen. And clothing racks full of dresses in every imaginable color.
“This is so much more than you ever bring for Freddie,” I say as Natasha ushers me toward the changing screen.
“Because I’ve never done this for you before,” she says. “I have no idea what you’re going to like. Also, dresses are just so much fun!”
My stomach tightens. Dressesshouldbe fun. But even just looking at the sequins and sparkles and shimmering fabrics is making my anxiety spike. The dress on the end of the rack is the same turquoise blue that Daphne wore the night she died, and it sends my mind back in time to the Saturday afternoon the two of us went shopping together to buy our dresses.
We begged Mom to let us go without her, because we wanted to feel grown up and responsible, and she relented. I’ve never had so much fun in a mall. We probably tried on fifty dresses, some boring, some beautiful, and some so completely ridiculous they made us laugh until we cried. Then we fell in love with the same dress. Daphne tried it onfirst, but she saw the way I was eyeing it and insisted I try it on too.
It was perfect, and even though I know Daphne loved it too, she made a show of picking out a blue one instead, fawning over it like it wasso much betterthan the one I picked.
I knew she was lying. But she wouldn’t back down. Even when I argued it was her senior prom, and I could even wear the dress next year when it wasmysenior prom.
She wanted me to wear the dress. That’s just the kind of sister she was.
“Maybe not that one,” Carina says, pulling my attention back into the present moment. She points to the turquoise one on the end, then whispers something to Wren, who quickly puts the dress inside a garment bag and tucks it out of sight.
Carina looks at me, her eyes full of understanding. “Are you okay?”
Before responding, my gaze slides over to Freddie, who is sitting on the other side of the room in one of the armchairs in front of my window. He’s leaning forward, arms propped on his knees. Our gazes catch, and though he doesn’t say anything, somehow, it feels like we’re talking anyway. In a split second of eye contact, whole sentences pass between us. Entire paragraphs of encouragement and calming reassurances are somehow bundled into the warmth radiating from his gaze.
When it reaches me, it spreads through my chest like a warm, weighted blanket. It’s the anchor I didn’t know I needed, and I feel myself relax the slightest bit.
Still, there is resolve in his expression.
Ineedto do this. I know I do. It’s a silly mental block, and it’s time to push through it.
Freddie knows that too. I love that he isn’t coddling me. He knows what I want, and he’s helping me do it.
“I’m okay,” I say, giving Carina a nod. “And maybe Icantry the turquoise dress. I want to try them all.” I look at Freddie one more time. “Thank you,” I mouth, and he smiles, sending a shot of dopamine right into my heart. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Overall, it’s not a terrible way to shop. Wren stays with me, helping me in and out of dresses, Natasha chooses what I try next, adjusting her picks according to how I feel about each thing I put on, and Carina and Freddie are a captive audience, offering opinions about what they like most.
We tackle tonight’s event first, and it only takes a couple of outfits for me to fall in love with a blue silk halter dress that makes my shoulders look amazing. The back plunges low to the small of my back with a series of crisscrossing straps that more than make up for the otherwise simple silhouette.
Then we move on to formalwear.
I do not enjoy myself like I did when I was trying on dresses with Daphne, but I can tell Freddie and Carina are working overtime to keep me happy and distracted. After ten dresses that are pretty enough but not quite right, Wren helps me into a black A-line dress with a strapless neckline and a high slit on the right thigh.
“Girl,” she says softly. “I think you found your dress.”
I slide my hands down the front of the skirt, then make my way out to the three-way mirror. It really is a beautiful dress. Contrast stitching swirls down the front, accentuatingmy waist, and the slit hits at a spot that feels sexy without beingtoosexy.
I can’t keep myself from smiling as I turn to face Freddie and Carina, but then I see Freddie’s face.
He’s leaning forward in his chair, body tense like he might jump up at any moment. And his expression—I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look at me like this. Like he wants to…devourme.
I lick my lips, suddenly nervous. “What do you think?” I ask.
It’s Carina who answers. “You know who would love that dress?” she asks, her voice soft.
Freddie’s intense focus temporarily distracted me, but I know the answer to Carina’s question as soon as it’s out of her mouth.
