Page 2 of Aviator
I glance back at my sisters. Fifteen-year-old Klaire, twelve-year-old Krystal, and nine-year-old Kenzie all nod enthusiastically. Amanda gives them a warm smile and promises to return with drinks and snacks shortly, giving us room to wander for a while. The girls run off before I can give them a stern talking-to about how to behave in public, but I’m too freaking nervous to chase them down. I’ll know if there are any issues if there’s screaming or crying.
Riley disappears to browse and give me some space. Thankfully, we’ve been friends so long that she knows exactly when I need to be pushed and when I need to be left alone with my thoughts. I shake off my nerves as best I can and start flipping through the gowns. As I peruse, I catch sight of myself in a mirror and pause with a gown held up and to the side.
The woman in the mirror isn’t bad-looking. I’ve learned how to work with my looks instead of against them. I’ve had to. My shoulder-length brown hair frames my face, slimming the round shape. With the help of expertly applied contour, I have sharp enough cheekbones. My eyes are brown, too, but flecks of gold in the center give them a little flair. Like I said, not bad-looking. My body, on the other hand. . . That’s been a constant battle my whole life. Growing up in the nineties meant thin was in, and I’ve never been “in.” Stress eating is my go-to coping mechanism, and I’ve had a lot of stress over the years to cope with. I’m on the low side of average height-wise, so any extra weight is even more visible. My job keeps me on my feet, and the girls keep me active, but so far, that hasn’t been enough to combat the late-night self-medication of binging TV and chocolate.
I straighten my shoulders before one of the girls can catch me frowning at myself. They’ve been more excited about dress shopping than I have, and I don’t want to ruin it for them. Besides, with the sheer number of options here, there has to be something that makes me look and feel beautiful.
I’m trying on what feels like the millionth dress when my day goes from dreadful to straight-up hell on Earth. A beautiful redhead bursts through the front doors of the bridal salon with riotous laughter. She doesn’t see me, but my head popped up the moment I heard her telltale hyena laughter. Riley notices my forced smile fall completely and turns toward the front of the salon. All three girls have long since given up looking and are all playing on their phones, so they don’t notice the tension sweeping through me.
Riley sneers and flips her long, blonde ponytail over her shoulder dismissively. “She wishes. No one would marry that snake, even if she was the last woman on the planet. Don’t let her ruin your day.”
I nod, but inwardly, I’m cringing. Fiona Ainsley works at the same dental office as Riley and me, and she’s the veritable bane of my existence. She goes out of her way to demean and ridicule me, so having her here when I’m feeling my most vulnerable makes me want to throw up in the nearest trashcan. A wave of greasy nausea rolls through my stomach.
“Shit a stick, Kenna. I’ve never seen anyone turn that shade of green before. Here, drink this.” Riley shoves a glass—holy shit, is that crystal?—in my face, and I drink deeply. The water is blissfully cool and soothes my dry throat.
“Thanks. I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting to see her here, that’s all.” There, I managed to keep my voice steady and more confident than I felt.
Riley sidles up to me and gives Fiona the stink eye. “Yeah, she’s not seeing anyone that I know of. What the hell is she doing at a bridal salon? I wouldn’t put it past her skank ass to come here just to be a bitch. Ignore her.”
Easier said than done. I try my level best and go back to the changing room to let poor, hardworking Amanda cinch me into another gown. This is one of Riley’s choosing, a trumpet style with a deep plunge in the back that may as well render it backless. I don’t know what magic Amanda works, but she gets me into it without a bra and still manages to make my generous D-cups perk up into a decent amount of cleavage without looking raunchy. I don’t have much time to look at myself in the mirror of the changing room before my little group urges me to come out.
“C’mon, Kenna, let’s see it,” I hear Krystal call.
“I’ve beendyingfor her to try this one,” says Kenzie. Her sweet, innocent voice is all I need to push me the rest of the way through the door.
The lights pointing toward the little runway in front of the seating area are so bright they’re nearly blinding. I stumble to the steps and perch in front of the mirrors, still trying to clear the dancing colors from my vision.
“Well,” I say in the general direction of Riley and my sisters. “What do you think?”
The responding quiet has a finger of panic sliding down my spine. A cold sweat breaks out on the backs of my knees and on my hairline. “Guys?”
I blink rapidly, and my vision finally clears. Riley and the Ks are sitting a few feet away on the couches, dumbstruck. “Is it that bad?”
I turn to study myself in the mirrors and see someone beautiful staring back. “Whoa,” I murmur at my reflection. I’ve always had curves, but the way the material of the dress clings to them makes my tits and ass look phenomenal. I twist to get a look at the back, which I thought would be a disaster but somehow makes me look like I have a long, lean waist. Is this dress made of magic? I look—
“You look hot as fuck,” Klaire says, her eyes wide and jaw practically on the floor.
I can’t even correct her because I’m as shocked as she is. “You think so?” I say breathlessly, and not only because I’m wrapped up like a mummy.
“Wow,” Kenzie says with stars in her big brown eyes.
“I second the brat.” Riley moves to my side. Klaire is so distracted she doesn’t even mouth off to Riley. Miracles. This dress is made of miracles. “If Garrett doesn’t shit a brick when he sees you coming down the aisle, he’s either blind or dumb.”
I turn to Amanda. “I think this is the one,” I say before I can second guess myself.
She beams at me, and I swear I see the dollar signs in her eyes.
I didn’t even ask for the price.
* * *
I’m still riding on a high when we move our brood to the register to schedule alterations and put down a deposit. It takes me a moment to realize that Fiona is in the group standing to our right trying on bridesmaid dresses. The light inside me dims a little, but I try to focus on the conversation between Krystal and Riley about Krystal’s latest middle school crush. I wasn’t even aware she had a crush, so I should be riveted, but my gaze drifts to Fiona and her equally beautiful friend.
“. . . I’m just saying,” Fiona sneers, then does a little hair shake. Her perfectly coiffed auburn curls tumble down her perfectly toned back. The plunging line down her back doesn’t have to work any miracles. She’s gorgeous without any help from the dress. “No one needs to seethat.”
As the attendant at the desk schedules my fittings and takes down my credit card information, I try to tamp down the wave of melancholy. Klaire and Kenzie are now riveted by Riley and Krystal’s conversation, so I have a moment to myself to breathe, but still. It turned out to be a pretty alright day, despite my fears. I’m not going to let Fiona, of all people, ruin it.
“Seriously, like, go to a gym or something.”
