by Nessa Morgan
Zephyr lowers his phone, walking over to me. “You look truly beautiful,” he whispers in my ear. That now familiar shiver runs through my body and I feel my cheeks flush with heat. Harley and my aunt talk about how great and wonderful I look. They then comment on what a shame it will be to return this dress. “You sure you want to return that?” Zephyr asks louder, letting the other two hear him.
“What would I wear this to?” I ask, catching the attention of Harley and my aunt. They’ve both stopped talking and just stare at me as my hand clutches the smooth black fabric draped by my legs.
“You should just save it, honey,” Hilary recommends. Flash. “Keep it for some special occasion.” Flash.
“Like what?”
Flash. “Something will come up in the future,” Harley comments, sadly. Her brown eyes cast downward. She shrugs her shoulders before looking up, “I’m sure of it, you in that dress—that’s a sight anyone’ll want to see.”
Hilary nods, agreeing with her partner in crime. “I think I’m going to head on up to bed,” she tells us, disrupting the brief moment we created. She yawns widely, letting us know how tired she really is. “I work tonight, see you later.” She walks through the living room, stopping in front of me. Flash. “You really look beautiful, Joey, your mother…” her voice catches. She takes a deep breath to stop the tears I see glistening her eyes.
“I know, Aunt Hil,” I tell her quietly.
She nods, her hands covering her mouth, before she makes her way up the stairs to her room.
Zephyr looks to Harley, wondering if he should say anything. Harley looks to me, wondering if she should say anything. I’m the first to break the silence.
“I’m changing out of this now,” I tell them, turning to ascend the stairs.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Harley blurts, grabbing my arm to prevent me from fleeing up the stairs to the safety of my room.
“I’m not just going to hang out on the couch in this, Harley.”
“I know that, wackadoo.” She laughs. “Forget the future. You should wear that to the dance tonight.”
Is she serious?
“What are you talking about?” I ask her, wondering if she was hit in the head when I wasn’t looking. This can’t be my friend.
“It’s in two hours, we could all go together,” Harley offers excitedly. Has she lost her ever loving mind? “Just a little bit, at least?”
She has lost it, okay. I’m in search of a new friend. One sane and less dance obsessed…
But this idea does make her look happy.
Still, I don’t want to go to Homecoming.
“We could,” Zephyr offers.
She’s contagious, damn it!
But wait! There could be a problem with this plan. “Harley, we didn’t buy tickets,” I remind her.
Her face falls.
“They sell tickets at the door,” Zephyr chimes.
It’s official, I have no idea what’s going on with them. Since when do they want to dance?
“You have switched body’s with Kennie,” I state slowly, letting her bright smile infect me. Harley looks elated for this, like really freaking happy to go to a school dance. It makes sense that she’d be happy, she’s been sad whenever someone mentioned the dance. It could be fun. I’ll make it fun even if only for Harley—she’s one of my best friends. “And you’re for this… this plan?” I turn to Zephyr, half expecting him to laugh in my face and tell me he was joking the entire time.
I so want him to do just that.
But he doesn’t.
He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m up for anything,” he replies, that mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Well, some help he is.
“Do either of you even have anything to wear?” I wonder, dropping my hand to my thigh, hearing the soft slap. Now that we have a plan, we need to figure out what we need, what we’re doing.
“Not really,” Zephyr answers—as expected. “But what the hell, right?”
“Just let me change back into normal clothing.” I run up the stairs, quickly changing into jeans and a t-shirt, and tell my aunt, before she’s dead to the world, that I’m heading out. I tell her that I changed my mind, yet again, and I am going to Homecoming. She smiles to me before she closes her eyes and falls asleep, snoring lightly as I close the door and head back down the stairs.
***
We pile into Harley’s tiny two-door car and start our way to the mall… yet again. Zephyr struggles in the back seat to find a comfortable sitting position but Harley and me in the front drown out his moans and groans with music—mostly Otep. We arrive at the mall and Harley—I can’t express how much this surprises me—excitedly bounces around. She searches the racks of the first store she drags us to—the one Kennie took us to last weekend to buy her blue dress. Zephyr and I watch as she instantly grabs a red dress from the rack in the back, the one I saw her looking at last weekend, and tries it on in the fitting room.
“I have spent way too many weekends, way too many man hours, looking for dresses for this stupid dance,” I tell him as he leans against the wall beside me. I’m sitting on the only stool in the store scrolling through my Facebook feed on my phone.
“Your dress is perfect,” he tells me. I feel his hand rest lightly against my shoulder, his thumb making tiny circles against the blade. It’s such a small touch yet an intimate gesture I can’t help but smile. Thankfully, he can’t see that.
Harley pops from the dressing room, the happiness so obvious in her wide, toothy grin, clad in a knee length red dress with capped sleeves and a high neckline. “What do you think?” she asks, spinning in a slow circle, desperate for our honest—but nice—opinion.
“That one’s great.” I’m not lying, she’s found the perfect dress. I enjoy watching her smile and spin. It’s a rare sight to see a happy girl take over my friend’s body.
I feel like I’m seeing her for the first time. I never knew this part of her—school dance happy. Has she always wanted to venture to school dances? I never noticed. Maybe it’s a new thing. Maybe she finally decided that she wanted to act like a normal high school student and spend too much money just to dance in a hot, sweat-filled gym that smells like socks.
“You look great,” Zephyr says, glancing back to me.
“I’m excited,” Harley squeals. I can see that she is. I believe this is her first school dance. She’s as antisocial as I am.
She purchases the dress and we head back to my house to get ready together. Zephyr ditches us to get dressed at his house, and we plan to meet in my living room in an hour.
I curl Harley’s light brown hair, letting the curls fall around her face, framing her heart shaped face beautifully. She does her own makeup, going for a natural look rather than her dark, black, gothic/emo look she wears daily. It works much better with the dress she’s wearing. She leaves in her lip ring, adding an edge to the sophisticated look.
My friend looks beautiful.
I curl my own hair, after washing it, and pin it up, letting a few curls escape and fall around my face. I use minimal makeup, not entirely sure what to do. But I do wear my mother’s floral cuff, aside from the silver, it sort of works with the dress. Even if it didn’t match at all, I’d still wear it—my mother bought it for her junior year Homecoming dance, it seemed perfect for this occasion.
An hour passes and Harley and I are dressed and ready. Zephyr walks through the front door wearing a black suit with a black tie. He kind of reminds me of a secret service agent, he only needs an earpiece and dark sunglasses. He holds out two boxes, both holding a colorful corsage.
“When did you get these?” I ask as he slips a red rose on Harley’s wrist. It matches her dress nicely and her smile grows wider as she looks at it on her wrist.
“I had a little time to spare,” he tells me, slipping a pink lily on my wrist. He remembered my favorite flower. My cheeks heat in a flush as the thought floats through my mind. I feel giddy. “I know it doesn’t matc
h—”
“I don’t care,” I blurt. “I like it, Zeph,” I tell him, smiling widely. I feel happy—happier than I’d have been if I were still going to this thing with Ryder.
We pile—gracefully, I might add—into Harley’s little car. I take the passenger seat and Zephyr crawls into the back. The drive to the school is a little nerve racking. I’m nervous. Harley pulls the car into the lot, taking a spot near the front of the building, and we sit in the car, mentally preparing for whatever’s going on inside.
I’m picturing madness. Complete and utter madness. A little chaos as well.
“You two ready for this?” I ask, nerves taking over my body. My hands start shaking, a sign I’m scared, and I clasp them together, lacing the fingers in my lap.
I really don’t want to run into Ryder. He’s the last person that I want to see. Actually, he doesn’t even rank on the list. I’m not sure what I’d do if I did see him.
Probably maim him. That’s a possibility.
“I have two dates for a school dance,” Zephyr calls from the back seat. “Oh yeah, let’s do this!”
He’s oddly excited about this. It makes me laugh, something I need right now. I pull down the visor, using the mirror to check my makeup, but catching Zephyr’s eyes. I silently thank Zephyr for being… well, Zephyr.
“Let’s go,” Harley demands. Being bossy works for her.
We make our way through the line—Harley and I shivering like leaves on a windy day—showing our student ID cards to one of the people at the front table. I think it’s someone’s parent.
“Three, please.” The teacher next to the parent, I think she teaches Algebra I, hands Zephyr the red tickets. Zephyr holds them out, saying, “Here are your tickets, ladies.” We take them and lace our arms with his, letting him lead the way through the double doors. “I feel like James Bond, right now,” he whispers to me.
I giggle.
Zephyr smiles.
As a trio, we walk into the school, amid familiar faces. Some nod to us, because of their good friend, Zephyr, others just look at us with shock and awe. They’re surprised. Why? I didn’t know it was so surprising, so shocking, for us to be at a school function together. Or maybe it’s just because I’m here.
I bet that’s it.
I notice Kennie standing among a scantily clad group of girls, Duke on her arm. He continuously steals glances at her when she’s not paying attention. There’s love and admiration in his eyes. Kennie, of course, doesn’t notice. Her full-length blue gown glints in the fluorescent light. She left her long hair falling down her back so it could hide the dark birthmark on her back. She hates it. She thinks it looks like a hatching egg, only instead of a bird, she thinks it looks like Cthulhu is emerging from her skin.
I have weird friends.
Her eyes glance over, spotting us standing near the door. Shock is clear on her face as she leaves her group and walks toward us.
“Joey! Harley! You both look wonderful”—she shakes her head—“beautiful,” Kennie compliments as she walks up to us, tugging her boyfriend. A look of relief fill his face, he’s happy that they’re leaving their previous company. “Don’t they look great, Duke?” she presses.
“Yeah, great,” Duke answers. His eyes trail back to Kennie, not even giving us a look. It’s cute, really, how much he appreciates her. Briefly, he acknowledges Zephyr with a, “Hey, man,” but his attention falls back to Kennie.
“It’s good to see that you both have worked out your differences.” Kennie smiles widely as she stares at my arm locked with Zephyr’s. “And you look good, Zephyr.”
“I’m one lucky guy,” Zephyr tells them, lightly pulling on my arm. His gesture pulls me closer to him, his cologne filling every one of my senses.
“I’ll say,” Duke replies, smiling to me, then to Harley, before settling his eyes on his girlfriend of the past year and a half.
Behind me, I hear someone call Zephyr’s name. I look over my shoulder, as does everyone else, and watch Avery walk up, circling us until he’s standing next to Duke. They do their usual weird handshake. “I didn’t think you’d show up,” he says.
Slowly, his eyes move from me to Zephyr—a smile slowly breaking on his face—to Harley. I swear I see him blush right there. And it isn’t hard to miss.
Hmmm…
I never thought I’d see Avery O’Reilly in a suit and tie. He doesn’t look so bad. He actually cleans up pretty nicely.
Damn.
Zephyr glances to me. “It was a last minute decision,” he tells Avery. “All Harley’s idea.” Avery looks to Harley and smiles. Yep, he’s definitely blushing. “You didn’t bring a date?” he questions.
“No, dude, I decided to just come alone,” Avery tells us. “Maybe hang with Jackson if I can pry him off, I’m mean away, from Ksenia.”
They share a laugh. “Good luck with that, man,” Zephyr tells him. “You could just hang around with us all night.” He turns to me, sympathy on his face. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
“How could I have a problem with Avery?” I ask, replaying our conversation from last night.
“You look very nice, Joey,” Avery tells me.
“Thank you,” I reply. “You, too.”
I’m waiting for him to ask, to mention my original plans with Ryder, but he ignores them. Thank God! I don’t think I can tell him—I know I can’t tell him, or anyone—but I’m just wondering if he’ll mention our conversation from last night.
His blue eyes shyly turn toward Harley, who’s busy looking around the large group of people surrounding us, and I know that the previous night is the farthest thing from Avery’s mind. His eyes light up the moment he looks at Harley. “You, Harley, look simply breathtaking.”
Harley turns bright red with a blush. I’ve never seen her so much as embarrassed before, and here Avery has turned her cheeks the same color as his hair.
Where has he been the past three years?
Kennie and I exchange looks, noticing something here, something that could blossom into something beautiful for our friend.
“So what happened to Ryder?” Kennie finally asks.
I was waiting for that.
Leave it to Kennie to ask the hard questions. Or, at least to ask the questions that I don’t want to answer.
That catches everyone’s attention, and I think ears around us perk up. Everyone saw the spectacle he created at lunch a few weeks back, they all expected me to be here with Ryder. They want to know why I’m not here with him. But can’t they ask him that question?
Is he not here?
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I tell her, avoiding the topic of him all together.
Kennie shrugs, ready to move on to the next subject. Thank her for that, really. But something brings us back to Ryder.
“That could be what happened to him.” Harley, who’s moved to stand by Avery, points behind me. I turn and see Ryder and Alexia walking in through the doors. They both attract the attention. Ryder by his—God forgive me for these next words—good looks and Alexia for her dress, if you could even call that thing a dress. I’m surprised she got through the doors, her hot pink monstrosity that I remember Jamie picking up in the store, would be better qualified as a shirt. Or belt.
“That was fast,” I mumble, not bothered by it. “Whatever!” I announce with enthusiasm when all eyes turn to me, some expecting me to be upset, some not knowing what to expect at all. “Let’s have fun.”
That surprises them.
I grab Zephyr’s arm and pull him into the dark, decorated gym. It’s not too bad. Each corner is dedicated to a season. My favorite is the first corner I see at the far end of the gym—it’s the winter section. It’s completely white; the fake trees stuck to the walls are white and covered in the paper-confetti fake snow.
“Wow,” I sputter.
“This is surprising,” Zephyr says under his breath.
Not wasting any more time of school approved fun, I pull him on t
o the dance floor, forcing him to dance with me. Harley and Avery are behind me, Kennie and Duke behind Zephyr. This is exactly how I pictured a school dance to be: fun with my friends. Definitely better than any of the parties I’ve been to.
Zephyr takes my hand and spins me, twirling me so fast that I collide into him, laughing loudly, enjoying the feel of his arms clasped around me.
That makes me feel awkward.
At the start of the next song, we girls ditch the guys, and Kennie, Harley, and I are dancing with each other. Well, not really dancing, more like bouncing around like small children on a sugar fix. When we came in, we had to ditch our shoes down in the cafeteria so no one would ruin the polished gym floors, that made jumping and bouncing easier.
A slow song starts and Duke immediately steals Kennie back, swaying her to the center of the spacious room. I look over to Zephyr and Avery and they’re talking with Jackson, Harley is laughing at something Ksenia just said, and I take a moment to sneak to the bathroom to splash some water on my heated cheeks.
While I’m staring into the mirror, trying to fix the line beneath my right eye, Alexia walks in with her clutch clicking repeatedly in her hand. I only brought my school ID, my keys, and phone, all of which are tucked inside Zephyr’s right pocket. She walks to the mirror, removes her mascara, pops her mouth wide open, and starts applying it to her eyes.
We’re alone in the bathroom.
Her heavily lined eyes glance to me in the large mirror. “This must be awkward for you,” Alexia starts before she blinks her eyes quickly.
“Why?” I ask. I’m not in the mood for this with her; I’m actually having a good time—a great time.
“Ryder and me,” she replies, matter-of-factly. “It’d be weird for me if I were in your shoes.” Alexia still hasn’t directly looked at me.
But you’re not in my shoes, bitch.
If only I were brave enough to actually say that.
But I don’t. I bite my tongue like a good little girl despite how much it pisses me off.
“Whatever you say, Alexia,” I grumble, backing away from the mirror and heading toward the sinks on the other side of the room. I need to wash my hands. “I don’t care what you do, Alexia, or what he does.”
