“About freaking time!” Corey huffed. “Okay, so we created three looks for you.”
Melanie and I traded glances, and it struck me just how easily she’d slid into my life. I still wished Jane were going with us, even if she insisted on taking a textbook, but since she couldn’t make it—well, I was glad Melanie could.
“What are you waiting for?” Corey demanded. “Try them on! Now!” Then he focused his attention on Melanie. “Let’s see…. I’m thinking we should keep your look very simple.” “Hey!’ I protested. “Why can’t we keep
my
look simple?”
“Shut up and change,” Corey said with obvious amusement. “You don’t have the bone structure Melanie does.” “Thanks … I guess.” Melanie didn’t seem sure how to respond. “Mackenzie, do you mind if I spend the night at your house? I was going to stay with Isobel, but she panicked and backed out. I know it’s inconvenient but …” “It’s fine,” I finished. “Really. It’ll be great. Corey, can you pick us up after your date?” “I can play chauffeur, but it’ll be late when I bring you back.”
Melanie’s eyes sparkled with excitement, and she managed to look even more wholesomely gorgeous. “Sounds good to me.” “Great. Oh, and Dylan wants to come.”
“That’s cool,” Corey said. “Now, do I have to jam you into that dress or will you put it on yourself like a big girl?” I wanted to protest, but instead I kept my head high and prepared for my first high school party.
But no dress, no makeup crew, no mass of supportive friends could have ever prepared me for what was to come.
I
was glad Dylan didn’t comment on my outfit. He opened his mouth, probably to tell me to change, but closed it quickly. I’m not sure if it was my warning glare or his first look at Melanie that shut him up. My money is on Melanie, since I’ve never inspired fear in my brother and she looked, as Corey put it, like a wholesome rocker princess. I was also glad my mom had a late shift at the restaurant, because I’m not sure how she’d have felt about my, ahem, attire.
The dress was short, red, plunging, and screamed
SEX!
At least, that’s what I thought when Corey pointed to it on the bed. Melanie agreed that it was perfect for the party. They assured me that I looked more like a very pricey and discreet call girl than a hooker. I hoped that last part was a joke. Even with the two of them insisting that I looked great and shouldn’t change a thing, I nearly walked back into my room and pulled on my jeans. As it was, I only agreed to leave after Jane gave her opinion via Skype. She said I looked stunning and that she wanted to hear all about the party later. I felt a flash of envy because I should’ve been like Jane: curled up with a textbook and some hot chocolate, wearing flannel pajama pants and an old T-shirt. That’s what I would’ve been doing if I hadn’t become famous.
Melanie and Corey each grabbed one of my arms and escorted me, forcibly, from my room, down the stairs, through the hall, out the door, and into Corey’s car—while Dylan trailed silently behind. I noticed that Dylan had changed and rumpled his hair in a way I would have described as sexy if he weren’t my little brother. Unless I imagined it, Melanie’s grip on me tightened when she saw him. I’d have to give that some thought when my stomach didn’t feel like a knot of writhing snakes.
Corey cranked up the radio and I sang along mindlessly until Melanie said, “Wow, you really
can
sing!”
I was spared a response as Corey rolled to a stop. “We’re here. All abort.”
That’s when I caught a good look at Spencer’s house. I knew his family was rich, but it was one thing to know it and another to see the opulence firsthand. The house was a converted Victorian that looked big, white, and classic. There were balconies, columns, and what looked distinctly like a gazebo. And there were teenagers everywhere. Music was blaring from the house as laughter spilled out into the air.
“Are you sure …” I began.
“YES!” Melanie, Corey, and Dylan yelled simultaneously.
I slithered out of the car and walked over to the lowered driver’s side window.
“Good luck on your date.”
“Yeah.” Corey smiled confidently, but I knew he was still freaked out.
I leaned closer. “You’re the best guy I know and the reason I’m here.” I grinned. “You’re kind of like my fairy godmother.”
“You won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight, will you?”
“No!” I laughed. “Besides you’re the one meeting Prince Charming.” I reached through the window and squeezed his arm. “And no one deserves a happily-ever-after more than you.”
“Come on, Mackenzie!” Melanie rubbed her arms. “I’m cold.”
“Okay.” I stepped away from Corey and into the unknown. “See you later, Corey.”
“Count on it.” Then he stopped idling in the street and left for his adventure.
I didn’t have time to mull over the way I’d splintered off from my two best friends. Melanie grabbed my arm and propelled me into Spencer’s house the same way she had dragged me out of mine.
“Let’s go!”
“Bossy, aren’t you,” Dylan commented.
“Yes, I am. Especially when hungry or cold.” Melanie moved through the open door and around a group of mindlessly giggling girls. “Much better.”
I wasn’t so sure I agreed.
The house was packed with people, colors, sounds, and movement. The music almost drowned out my brain as it whirred into sensory overload. I was about to make up some lame excuse to bail, even if it meant freezing in my short dress, when I saw Logan.
He was leaning comfortably against a wall and talking with Spencer, who was obviously checking out a girl in skinny jeans and a tank top.
I tugged on Melanie’s arm and pointed. “She’s wearing pants! See! Why didn’t Corey let me wear something like that?”
Melanie smiled up at me. “She probably doesn’t have a dress like
that
in her closet begging for a night out.”
“Yeah, but
she
won’t catch pneumonia if she goes outside.”
“We’ll heat up soon enough in here. This place is a furnace.”
She wasn’t exaggerating: heat rolled off bodies in waves. “Let’s see if we know anyone here.”
Those words had just left Melanie’s mouth when Logan looked up for the first time and his eyes connected with mine.
“Found someone,” I muttered, forcing myself to walk over as if we were meeting for a study session.
“Hey.” I tried to look confident, but I felt stupid. I stood there in my short, fire hydrant red dress thinking,
Gee, thanks, Corey. Way to talk me into this ridiculous outfit and then bail.
In that moment, I knew Corey, Jane, and Melanie had all been horribly wrong. I couldn’t pull off a backless halter dress—especially one that dipped low in the front. I probably made the girls on
Jersey Shore
look classy in comparison.
Logan did a double take, and I could have cheerfully slugged Corey in the gut. I probably looked like a kid playing dress up. Suddenly everything felt like too much: the makeup, the dress, the earrings—all of it. I just wanted to pull on a baggy sweatshirt and hunker down with a good book.
“Um … hey,” he replied. The house was full of people, and every square inch of counter space was crammed with alcohol, chips, and cheap plastic cups. There was a foot of distance between us, but it still felt too close to me. I was tempted to reach into my purse, pull out my cell phone, and demand that Corey pick me up
stat
. I’d give him an earful too. Then I’d point out in no uncertain terms that real life is not like a stupid chick flick.
“You look …” Logan trailed off when Spencer draped an arm over my shoulder. Apparently, I had captured his interest over Skinny Jeans.
He grinned at Logan. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
He didn’t recognize me. We’d gone to the same school for years and Spencer still couldn’t place me. I was safe in my disguise as the vixen in red.
On impulse, I leaned into Spencer’s arm and looked straight into his face.
“Mackenzie Wellesley.” I didn’t hide my amusement and grinned at them both. “Rarely called Mack.”
Spencer’s smile widened as he gave me the once-over.
“Who would have guessed,” he commented smoothly. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks. It’s new.”
Logan stepped forward, and much to my surprise Spencer disengaged his arm. It was like watching something on the Nature Channel: wolves being territorial as they rushed to assume alpha dog status, which was uncomfortable on so many levels.
“Um, this is Melanie …” I rushed into introductions and nearly blanched when I saw the Evil Trio swoop down on us. “And this is, uh, Dylan.”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen you since camp. How’s it going?”
It took me by surprise when they instantly began talking about sports. I’d forgotten that Dylan and Logan knew each other.
“Mackenzie!” Chelsea’s voice still held that friendly tone she’d slathered on earlier. “We’re so glad you could make it!”
She assessed the situation in one quick, sweeping look from beneath her expertly darkened lashes. I tensed as her gaze lanced into Melanie and Dylan.
“And you brought your little brother and a friend with you. How sweet… .”
But it was obvious she didn’t think it was sweet. Her tone made it very clear that she thought it was weird that I’d bring my middle school brother to a party. She had a point, I guess. As Fake and Bake tittered, the Wellesley blush rose on Dylan and me.
“Actually, Chelsea, he’s with me.” Melanie’s smile was simultaneously innocent and smug. She tucked her arm into Dylan’s as his mouth spread into a cocky grin.
“Bossy older women can’t resist me.”
I laughed as Melanie jabbed him in the stomach.
“We’re going to dance,” she said. “Catch up with you later, Mackenzie.”
“See!” Dylan tossed over his shoulder. “Bossy.”
Then they disappeared into the mass of swaying bodies—leaving me surrounded by Notables. Great.
“So …” I said uncomfortably. “Great party.”
Spencer moved closer, and I caught him trying to look down my dress, which was ridiculous because guys don’t do that kind of thing with me. They just
don’t
.
“Want to take a tour?” he asked.
I had a feeling that beneath Spencer’s smug exterior was a really nice guy, and as I was thinking,
Maybe the two of us could become friends …
my eyes locked on Logan. It was stupid to treat him like a life raft, but he knew what he was doing, while I was trying to keep my head above water.
“That’s a great idea!” Chelsea declared. “Steffani and Ashley were about to get a drink.” She moved closer to Logan, and her dress, a sparkly little black number, swayed seductively. “I need to borrow you for a minute.”
My fingers tightened on the little clutch that Corey and Melanie insisted complemented my dress perfectly. Someone jostled into me and I lurched unsteadily on my heels. I had to grab Spencer’s arm before I did a face-plant.
“A tour sounds great,” I told him. “Although I might have to keep grabbing you for balance.” I smiled self-deprecatingly. “I haven’t mastered these shoes yet.”
I hadn’t been wrong about the heels. They were definitely going to kill me.
Spencer only grinned. “I never have a problem with a pretty girl grabbing me.”
I laughed. “You get many girls with that line?”
“Tons.”
“Must be the delivery.” I didn’t let go of his arm and had to restrain myself from holding on tighter when I noticed everyone’s eyes glued on us.
I did my best to sound casual as though I flirted with Spencer all the time. “See you guys around.”
And then we left. Steffani and Ashley trailed behind so that Chelsea and Logan could have privacy. I couldn’t resist looking back just once. They were holding hands and moving toward the door—Smith High School’s most popular students were getting back together again.
I don’t know why, but it felt like someone sucker punched me in the stomach.
“S
o…is it fun being rich?” Okay, I didn’t mean to ask that, but when you’re being led around an ornate house with a fancy chandelier above the staircase it’s hard to resist asking.
“It has its advantages.” Spencer gestured at his parents’ generously stocked bar as Fake and Bake ditched us to cheer on their boyfriends who were presently chugging cheap beer.
“I bet.”
“So do you want to see the bedrooms?”
He asked it so suggestively I couldn’t restrain my instinctive laughter.
“You’re all show, aren’t you?” I asked, knowing he’d never confirm it. “You live on insinuation and game play.”
“Now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.” But his easy grin told me I was dead-on. Then the smile faded. “There are some games even I don’t play. I hope Logan knows what he’s doing this time.”
“This time?” I repeated, noting the edge in Spencer’s voice. I’d never seen him serious before. Something about Logan and Chelsea had to be getting his back up.
He shrugged, but there was tension in the movement. “Some guys fall for the same tricks no matter how obvious the ploy.” He tried to brush off the mood. “It’s the male curse to be forever bewitched by women,” he said philosophically. “Speaking of which …” Spencer nodded his head as Patrick strode toward us.
Okay, I admit I entertained a brief fantasy that Patrick would kiss me until I couldn’t think—like I was in some Taylor Swift music video and any second the lovably awkward girl (me) would triumph with the help of true love.
I wish the real world worked like that.
Instead, Patrick stood in front of us, looking like he had something to say and no idea how to go about it. After a long pause, I took my hand off of Spencer’s arm—which meant I had to worry that I’d lose my tentative hold on balance.
“I’ll catch you later,” Spencer said at last with a suggestive wink. Then he went over to a large clump of girls where I thought I saw a flash of gray skinny jeans.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Why did I have to turn into a puddle at five simple words? It was just so sweet. Suddenly, I thought,
Maybe Corey and Melanie were right about this dress
.
“Uh, really?”
Yes, that’s my oh-so brilliant response when a supercute boy says he’s been looking for me. Shoot me, now.