Page 23 of Becoming Us
I swear this is the last fucking time I’m doing one of these
Holly
you’ve said that at least ten times now
Me
they’re powdering my face with frosting
Holly
yum
do I put the seats aside for them?
I need to hand that list in tomorrow at the latest
I exhaled loudly, clicking my tongue.
Me
I’ve asked my mom like a million times
still no word
she’s here with me
I’ll ask again
Holly
good
that little minx from the planning committee is driving me up the wall
I looked up and spotted Mom across the room, laughing with the photographer. She’d dressed up for the occasion, like she always did when she tagged along to my shoots. Always a little too ready, like she was just waiting for someone to ask her to step in.
Holly wasn’t exactlyMs. School Spirit, but she’d been roped into the events committee, and now they were planning some charity ball. I was supposed to get my parents to come—just like everyone else—but my dad would, unsurprisingly, be out of town. And my mother… Well, if it wasn’t about her, she tended to tune out.
I could ask her now, while she was in a decent mood. Lately, she’d been prickly—sharp-edged in a way that made even simple things feel tense. She’d been planning this big family trip to Dubai, and my dad canceled last minute. It didn’t seem like a huge deal—we could go anytime—but it had sent her into a tailspin. All week, she’d been impossible. The last thing I wanted was to trigger another storm. But this was just one night.
I closed the chat and sighed.
“All that brooding isn’t good for your skin. What’s got your panties in a twist?” the model next to me asked.
I glanced his way as Garth returned, sponge in hand, dabbing at my face like it had offended him. Stormy? Mountain? It was one of those nature-inspired names—I just couldn’t remember which.
“School stuff,” I grumbled.
“Right, forgot you’re still a baby,” he said, chuckling.
“I’m fifteen,” I corrected, but that only made him and the two makeup artists laugh harder.
“Honey, that’s a baby. A crawling, teething baby with an attitude,” Garth said, wagging his brush.
My brow furrowed.
“Doesn’t look like a baby, though,” the model added, tossing me a wink.
