Page 90 of Rivals
“Marshall,” she said, tugging his gaze away from the field. And because she didn’t know how to articulate all of this, she did what she always did: let her actions speak for themselves.She looped her arms around Marshall’s neck and lifted her face to his, kissing him right there on the lips. In public, in front of the entire stadium.
And no one looked their way.
They stayed like that all afternoon, just enjoying each other, soaking in their temporary cocoon of privacy.
“You expect me to go shoppinghere?” Daphne stared incredulously at the sign that readcece’s closet, then pulled her sweater higher over her shoulders, as if worried someone might catch her slumming at a vintage store.
“Like it or not, Daphne, you’re broke,” Nina remindedher.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “I take it you’re my own personal Virgil, guiding me through this dismal underworld of fashion?”
“Abandon all couture, ye who enter here,” Nina agreed, and pushed open the front door.
Cece’s Closet had the sort of blithe, blatant disregard for inventory management that Nina normally associated with used-book stores. It looked like someone had attempted to organize the clothes based on occasion, or perhaps decade, only to switch their system partway through. A basket labeleddesigner jeans,$30eachwas plopped next to a rack that held a bright red miniskirt, a fluffy mink coat, and a polka-dotted bikini top that was mysteriously missing its bottoms.
“There are some good things here, if you’re willing to roll up your sleeves and look.” Nina beelined to one of the racks and began sliding items toward her one by one.
Daphne sniffed imperiously. Nina watched as she wandered over to a dresser, which was scattered with randomobjects: a beaded evening bag, a quilted belt with an oversized buckle. “Is this a real Edwardian cookie jar?” she asked, holding up what looked, to Nina, like nothing but a plain blue jar.
“Um—I think so?” she guessed.
“How did you find this place?” Daphne’s curiosity was clearly piqued.
“My mom brought me here for my prom dress.” Nina smiled at the memory. “We went to the mall, at first, but the salespeople were so snobby, and the dresses were either ridiculously overpriced or…”
“Or too short?” Daphne offered.
“Or generic. I didn’t want to be another girl wearing a spaghetti-strap metallic dress.” Too late, Nina realized that Daphne had almost certainly been one of those girls. They had all looked the same, a battalion of girls armed in shimmering gold thread or sequins.
She held one of the gowns up to her chest, and Daphne gave a strangled cry of protest.
“Stop, youcannotwear that shade of green!” Daphne threw up a hand as if to shield her eyes. “Quick, put it away before it blinds us.”
“What about this?” Nina asked, amused. She pulled another from the rack, a chiffon thing with a fluffy tiered skirt.
“You’ll look like a soufflé that flopped in on itself. God, you’re hopeless.” Daphne elbowed her aside. “Letme.”
Daphne began sliding the hangers toward her one by one, studying each dress as if she were a general assessing her troops before battle. For a moment, Nina thought of the last—and only—time she and Daphne had gone shopping together. Daphne had called the store afterward to cancel Nina’s dress order, in an attempt to sabotage her and Jeff.
Nina squirmed at the thought of Jeff. She’d tried to act normal when she saw him at lunch yesterday, but theirrelationship felt confusing now, more charged. Their almost-kiss from that night on his couch felt as persistent and tangible as if theyhadkissed. Nina couldn’t stop thinking about it, turning the memory over and over in her mind.
“Start with these,” Daphne commanded, arms full of garments on hangers, and Nina looked up guiltily.
“You’ll try on a few too, right?”
Daphne hesitated, and Nina pressed her advantage. “Come on, we defeated Gabriella! We should celebrate by showing up at the banquet in fantastic new dresses.”
At the mention of Gabriella, Daphne chuckled. “Did I tell you that Gabriella tried to coordinate outfits with me, that night at the wine bar?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“She told me I couldn’t show up to the League of Kings ball in the same color that she did. And since she was choosing between red, green, blue, black, silver, and purple, I was banned from all of them.” Daphne tossed her hair, doing an admirable impression of Gabriella’s bored, condescending drawl. “Nigel says that purple is my color, so I’ll probably wear that, but really, you should steer clear of all the colors. Just in case.”
Nina snorted. “Wow. I can’t believe her minions actually put up with these demands.”
She and Daphne hadn’t heard from Gabriella since the End of Session party, not that they’d expected to. They assumed that Gabriella was convincing her father to carry out their demands. If she hadn’t done anything by Saturday, they would confront her at the League of Kings banquet and tell her that she needed to act now, or else.
But Nina doubted that things would reach that point. She’d seen the fear in Gabriella’s eyes when they got her on video; Gabriella had too much at stake, and granting their demands would cost her nothing.
