“Speaking of girls,” Matt said. “You ever close the deal with that cheerleader?”
“I’m working on it,” Jackie said. He dug around in a back cupboard and pulled out a roll of gauze. “Girls like Madison need to be wooed.”
“Wooed? Dude.”
Jackie tossed the gauze at Matt, hitting him in the face. “I don’t see you hooking up with girls like her.”
Bria sighed. “Why is it okay for you guys to hook up with cheerleaders, but girls like me can’t date jocks?”
“Totally different,” Matt said. He wrapped the gauze around his hand and set to work pulling the broken string free from the guitar. “Cheerleaders are hot.”
“What my friend means,” Jackie said, glaring at Matt. “Is that we expect better from girls. There aren’t a lot as cool as you, so we don’t want to lose you to the jocks too. They’ve already got first dibs on most girls.”
Bria shrugged. “I’m just saying, it doesn’t seem fair.”
“How come you know about music anyway?” Matt asked. He finally freed the string from his headstock.
“My dad.” She picked up a can of soda and took a sip. “He used to be in band.”
“So why don’t you play?”
She raised her brows. “Who says I don’t?”
“Well.” He set down the guitar. “I mean. I’ve never seen you play.”
She laughed. “I haven’t played in years. I love music enough to know it’s not my thing.”
Jackie stopped playing with his sticks. “See, I respect that.”
“What did I miss?” Rafael said, coming back in from the house. “I found some D'Addario's.” He tossed the package of strings to Matt.
“Nothing,” Bria said.
“So Friday,” he said. “What are you wearing?”
“Clothes.”
“Really? That’s a disappointment.”
“Keep it PG, kids,” Jackie said. He tapped out a beat on the bass drum, the double pedal resonating through the garage.
“It’s a blue dress,” she said. “Everything black looked like funeral stuff.”
“You’d be the girl wearing red at a funeral, wouldn’t you?” Rafael said.
“Depends on who died.” She’d worn pink to Mom’s – and hadn’t worn it since.
“So blue? What color flowers go with that?”
“You’re an artist. You figure it out.”
“She makes a good point, dude,” Matt said.
“She usually does,” Jackie said.
A cherry red MINI Cooper convertible pulled into the driveway and Bria hopped down from the amp. “That’s my aunt.” She gave Rafael a quick kiss. “See you at school.”
“So that’s the boy,” Aunt Becky said, craning her neck around Bria to stare at Rafael.
“That’s Raf.”
“Hmm.” She lowered her oversized sunglasses and narrowed her eyes, the same blue-green color as Bria’s. “He looks like the pool boy I had before I left LA.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
She winked. “Nope. I kept him for a reason.”
Bria clicked her seatbelt into place. “I just need to pick up my dress, okay? No crazy shopping spree.”
Aunt Becky laughed and floored it out of the driveway. “Do you know me at all, child? Nails, brows.” She flicked the end of Bria’s ponytail. “Touch up your hair. Elias is a genius with color like yours.”
“It’s just homecoming.”
“Did you pick out shoes?”
“Shoes? No. Aunt Becky – ”
“I didn’t come back from New York just to pick up your dress. Besides, your mom would be here picking out shoes for you. And yes, I’m pulling the dead sister card. Tell me about your dress. It’s not black, right?”
Bria planted a kiss on her aunt’s soft, powered cheek. “What’s wrong with black?”
~
At a knock on the front door, Bria jumped up from the pile of bags in the family room and ran to open it. Abby stood on the front stoop, typing on her phone.
“Finally,” she said. “How long does it take for you to get to the door?”
“Too long,” Bria said, leading the way back through the house. “I keep telling Dad we need to downsize but he likes it here.”
“Yeah, because he never leaves his office.”
“Maybe we could transfer that room to a new house. He’d never notice.”
“Whoa.” Abby stopped at the edge of the carpet. “Did Nordstrom blow up in here?”
“Aunt Becky.”
Abby nodded her head. “Still insists on buying the store I see.”
“I even got something for you,” Bria said, holding out an oversized box.
“Oh! Your nails!” She grabbed Bria’s hand and she had to twist her arm around to keep the box in her other. “And your hair! Do you actually have purple highlights and lowlights?”
“Aunt Becky. Ultra Violet, Purple Haze and Electric Amethyst.”
“I love it. You should keep it up. And paint your nails more often.”
“Yeah, the way I play with paint thinner? Anyway. Box.” She shoved it into Abby’s chest. “Open it.”
“Why…?”
“Because you’re my best friend and if Aunt Becky takes me shopping, you ought to get something too.”
“You did find a dress for homecoming, right? Because that’s what I really want.”
“Yes. It’s the one I picked out last week.” Bria rolled her eyes. “Now open it.”
Abby pulled out two pairs of rain boots, one black with little white skulls and the other black with hearts in various shades of pink.
“For when I visit you in London.”
“Bri.”
“Come on.” She flopped onto the leather couch, pulling Abby with her. “You’re going to get in and you’re going to be fabulous.”
“The musical is going to suck.” She pulled on the heart boots. “These are so freaking cute.”
“I know, right?” Bria slid her feet into the skulls, holding her legs out straight to admire them. “And the musical isn’t going to suck.”
“My sound crew? Sucks. They can’t get a single cue right. And the lighting guys? They keep mixing up the gels and the gobos. Who does that?”
“And there’s still time.”
“A week.” Abby dropped her feet onto the floor.
“It’s like ten days.”
“Which is basically a week.”
“I will love it and I will be there, house center, every single night.”
Dropping her head in her hands, Abby groaned. “Why did they schedule the musical for the week after homecoming? I mean, seriously.”
“Enough of that. There’s nothing else you can do about it today. So let’s chill out and talk about something else.”
“Like you and Raf? Because I need details.”
“There are no details.”
“Come on. You’ve kissed by now, right?”
Bria pulled off the boots and dropped them back into the box. “Sure. We’ve kissed.”
“So? How is it?”
“Honestly?” She wrinkled up her nose. “Kind of stiff.”
“So he needs some lessons.” Abby raised her eyebrows.
“Shut it. I don’t harass you about Eli.”
“Because you don’t want to hear the details.”
“Believe me – nothing you say can shock me.”
Abby sighed. “A girl can try.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Dolores and Abby’s giggles trickled out of the bathroom. Bria spun around on Abby’s desk chair to stare at herself in the mirror. Her eyes darted between the curling iron and the straightening iron.
“What are you thinking?” Adele said, leaning against the doorway.
“I have no idea.” Her shoulders fell and she turned around. Mrs. Harris’ flawless hair and makeup made her sigh. “My dad isn’t exactly great at this kind of thing.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Let me give you a hand.”
“Doesn’t Abby need you?”
Adele’s clear, bell-like laugh warmed her heart. “Abby has been styling her own hair since she was 10. She won’t let me touch it.”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
Adele smiled and ran her hands through Bria’s hair, tilting her head from side to side. “I think I know what to do. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Bria smiled back, relaxing into the chair. Her eyes fluttered closed from the pressure of Adele’s fingers on her scalp.
“You have lovely hair, you know.”
“Even an ungodly shade of purple?”
“I always thought purple suited you.” She grabbed a brush and began sorting and twisting Bria’s hair into sections. “I’m thinking something loose and soft at the base of your neck, something that plays with your natural texture. Maybe some curls around your face.”
Adele’s hands flitted around, creating a rough example of her vision.
“Oh.” Bria blinked at her reflection. “That’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” She picked up the curling iron and rolled the first section of hair around it. “Tell me about your date.”
“Rafael.”
“He’s a new student this year, right?”
“Yeah.” Bria sighed. “He’s in a band.”
“Is he cute?”
A memory of Ben, with his face lit by a bright smile, rose up in her mind. But it wasn’t like she could blurt out ‘actually, I’m in love with your son.’
“He is,” Bria said. “Most of the other girls are swooning over him.”
“And he fell for you.”
“I don’t know why.”
Adele added another thick sausage curl to the row lining Bria’s neck, then let down a new section of hair. “Because you’re kind and lovely and interesting.”
Bria laughed. “Sure.”
“Do you like him?”
Bria met her own stare in the mirror. “Yes. Kind of. I don’t know.” She sighed. “We have fun together. I like hanging out at band practice with him.”
“But?”
“But I think we’d be better as friends. There isn’t that thing, you know?”
Working her fingers through the curls, Adele fluffed up the hair at her scalp. “If you were my daughter, I’d tell you to be honest with him. It’s not fair to either of you to keep going if your heart isn’t in it.”
A tear pricked at the corner of Bria’s eye and she nudged it away with a knuckle. Daughter. That slammed her back to reality.
“Are you alright?” Adele asked.
“I just…I wish my mom was here.”
Adele’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in to kiss her forehead. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“It’s fine.” Bria sniffed and smiled. “I just forget sometimes.”
Adele tapped her chin up. “She’d be proud of you.”
“I hope.”
“I know. We used to talk about you kids when you first started school. About our hopes for you. About the kind of people we wanted you to grow up to be.”
“I doubt this is what Mom imagined.”
“You are a confident, independent, capable woman. That is exactly what your mom wished for you.”
“Hurry up,” Abby said, sticking her head into the bedroom. “I’m almost ready to do your make up.”
“Give us a few minutes,” Adele said, jabbing bobby pins into Bria’s head.
“Thank you,” Bria said, her voice rough in her throat.
“Of course.” Adele kissed her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Bria. Rafael is a lucky boy, whether he’s your friend or something more.”
Bria twisted in the mirror to catch her hair from each angle. “I love it,” she said. “It’s perfect.”
“Where’s your dress?”
Bria picked up the blue silk dress from the bed. A cluster of flowers spilled across one shoulder, just enough to cover her scar, and a wide sash under the bust highlighted the sheer gathers across the bust and skirt.
“Perfect!” Adele said. “That color with your eyes!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harris.” Bria hugged the dress to her chest.
“Adele.” She smiled and stopped just before the door. “Your dad has done a wonderful job, but if you ever need a woman to talk to, you know I’m here.”
Bria forced a smile. “Of course.” Except that the very things she needed a woman to help her through were the same things she could never tell Adele.
“Bria!” Abby called. “Get into your dress! You’re up!”
Bria pulled on her fishnets and slid the dress over her head. The hem, meant to land mid-calf, hit just below her knee. “One sec.”
She tugged up the zipper and flopped down on Abby’s bed to zip up her boots. She’d swapped out the laces for blue ribbons to match her dress. The hair and dress and manicured nails were enough; she couldn’t bring herself to wear Aunt Becky’s strappy silver heels like every other girl at OHS.
“Bria!” Dolores stuck her head in this time, her hair a mess of braids all jumbled together in a loose bun. Her red plaid dress made of some kind of stiff taffeta brought out the crayon-red highlights in her hair.
“Done,” Bria said, bouncing up from the bed.
“Good because Abby keeps putting more make up on herself.”
~
“Dear God,” Abby said, clutching Eli’s arm and staring at the explosion of green and white balloons filling the gym.
“Where on earth did they find a disco ball?” Dolores said, staring up at the ceiling. Tyler shuffled his feet beside her, looking incredibly awkward and uncomfortable.
“This was your idea, Abs,” Bria said. “You don’t get to complain.” She toyed with the corsage on her wrist. The orangey pink roses popped against her blue dress. Raf had done good. With his skinny tie and suit just a hair too small, he looked every bit the ironic homecoming date he’d promised to be.
“This is weird,” Tyler said. “I haven’t been in a high school in like three years.”
“You’ll be okay,” Dolores said, patting his arm.
“How’d you get rid of church boy anyway?” Abby whispered a little too loud.
Dolores grinned. “He got busted for smoking pot behind St. Monica’s. I didn’t even have to ditch him. And Ty cleans up well. Mom was totally impressed.”
“What can I say?” Tyler grinned back. “Mom’s love me.”
“I think that should be your new endorsement for the band,” Abby said. “Criminal Casino: Moms Love Them.”
“I’ll get my dad right on it,” Bria said.
“Come on,” Rafael said, tugging at her arm. “Let’s dance.”
“I don’t dance,” Bria said, pulling away.
“Dance with me.” He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her close. “Come on. One dance. Please.” He bent his head and tilted his eyes in a particularly dog-like fashion.
Those eyes were dangerous.
“One dance. One song. No loop holes.”
He smiled. “Good girl.”
She sighed, but let him lead her onto the dance floor. “You’re such as ass.”
“Because I challenge you?” He moved closer, tightening his hold on her.
“Because you don’t know when to stop.” She draped her arms around his neck, looking straight into his eyes. Good thing she hadn’t worn the heels.
“I’ll stop when you tell me to stop.” He slid his hand down her back.
She caught his arm and pulled it back up. “No, you won’t. You’ll take it just past.”
He studied her. “Because you need a fight,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.
It wasn’t in her to surrender, but his lips brushed hers, and she couldn’t fight any more either. He pulled back, watching her face, waiting for something, with his hands still on her hips and her arms around his neck.
“Eeek!” some girl said from the stage set up at the far end of the gym. “Is this microphone on? Ca
n you hear me?”
A murmur of assent passed through the crowd and Bria broke away from Rafael, taking full advantage of the distraction.
“Oh good!” The girl clapped her hands, her hot pink dress twinkling under the lights. “Okay. I know you’re all anxiously awaiting this moment.”
“I doubt it,” Rafael said.
Bria bit back a giggle and elbowed him in the ribs.
“It’s time for our homecoming king and queen to share a dance.” The girl clapped her hands again.
“Who is that anyway?” he said.
“Jamie Coggins,” Bria said. “She’s our class president.”
“I don’t remember electing her.”
Bria giggled again.
“Come on up Ben and Alyson! Aren’t they soooo cute?”
Ben walked into the light of the stage. The puffy crown on his head looked ridiculous, but he carried himself in a way that pulled it off. He held out a hand to help Alyson onto the stage. He pressed his other hand to the small of her back and followed her up the stairs. A song started and he drew her into his arms.
Never had the gym felt so large, or the lights so bright. The way they moved together, so smooth, so knowing. With the lightest of touches, he guided her through the music, like her body anticipated his.
Bria’s place wasn’t on that stage. She didn’t even belong at a dance. Loneliness pulsed around her, each person a reminder that she wasn’t one of them.
“I’ll be right back,” Bria said, pulling away from Rafael.
She pushed through the mess of organza and satin. Her classmates moved out of her way like her touch might kill them. Or at least give them the plague.
Slipping through a side door, she stepped into the cool evening air. Her dress, with its tight bodice, made it hard to breathe.
Ben wasn’t hers. He had every right to dance with whomever he wanted. To wrap his arms around her and hold her close, to bend his lips to her ear and whisper shared secrets to make her laugh.
They obviously had something.
Something she’d once thought he only had with her.
She paced across the sidewalk, questioning how she ever could have thought he cared about her.
“Bria?”
Ben’s voice sucker punched her back to reality and she stepped back. “Ben. Hey.”
“The mural looks great.” He nodded his head back toward the gym. “The compass is awesome.”
The Art of Falling Page 17
