I moved closer and locked my eyes on Vee’s in the mirror. “There is nothing plain about you in this dress.”
She offered me a small smile, but I could see the discomfort in her expression. When we arrived, my mom had been like a Versace-clad bull in a china shop. She’d never stopped to look at the price as she pulled ball gowns and plopped them into the waiting arms of Miranda, our bridal stylist.
Vee had tried to steer my mom to the clearance racks, but the effort was futile. Vee’s stress had steadily built until my mom had pushed her toward the fitting rooms.
I didn’t envy the position Vee was in. She’d agreed to go along with this ruse to help Brody—and herself, to a degree—but for obvious reasons, she was also clearly uncomfortable with my parents spending money on a fake wedding.
For once, I wished Brody had shacked up with some money-grabbing floozy during his conquests in the fall. That type of person would’ve been much better equipped for this scheme.
Taylor came back toward us, and when she caught sight of Vee, she stopped dead in her tracks, her mouth dropping open.
“Holy smoke show,” she said. “Vee, you look absolutely gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” Vee replied meekly, a blush staining her cheeks.
“So,” Miranda said brightly, “are we saying yes to this dress?”
Vee looked at my mom, who asked, “Are you sure you don’t want one that’s a little more…ornate?”
Expensive was what my mom meant, but I gave her points for trying to be tactful.
Vee gave herself another once-over and said, “I really like this one.”
My mom smiled at her and gently laid a hand on Vee’s biceps. “Then this is the one you’ll have. You do look truly beautiful.”
My mom’s words were heartfelt, and I felt a pang of sadness that this moment was contrived. When Brody came clean about all of this, it was going to be a freaking disaster, and I wanted to plan a trip so I could be anywhere else when it happened.
My mom discussed alterations needed for the dress, and Miranda assured my mother it would all be done in time.
“Okay, your turn,” my mom said as she turned to me.
“Aren’t you going to pick a bunch out for me?” She’d been a mini-hurricane in looking for Vee’s dress, and I’d been expecting the same treatment.
“You and Vee can pick.”
Who is this person?
“We can?”
“Of course. It’s Vee’s wedding.”
“Huh. Okay, well, did you have a color in mind, Vee?”
Vee looked a little startled. “Oh, uh, green?”
“Really?” I asked, unable to hide my dissatisfaction with that choice from my voice. Green was not my color.
“Purple?” Vee tried again.
“Sophia, if Vee wants you in green, then you’ll wear green,” my mom said absently as she tapped on her phone.
“Yeah, I know. She just didn’t sound too committed to the color.”
“Miranda, can you pull some bridesmaids dresses in green?” my mom asked, never looking up from her phone.
“Absolutely. Let me just help Veronica get changed, and then I’ll pull some.”
“Wonderful,” Mom said. “Sophia, shouldn’t you go help them?”
“Help them look for dresses?” I asked.
My mom finally glanced up but only to give me a long-suffering look.
“No, help Veronica out of her dress. There may be some things about it that you’ll need to know.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. That’s what you need to find out.”
I looked over at Taylor, who smirked at me. Judas. Arguing was futile, so I followed Vee and Miranda to the dressing room.
The dress was a simple zip back, and there was no train, so there was absolutely nothing I needed to learn about this dress. But I dutifully hung it on the hanger when Miranda handed it to me, and I averted my eyes as Vee got dressed.
Once we were ready to exit the dressing room, I opened the curtain and stepped out, only to be confronted with an armful of green garments.
“What are these?” I asked my mom, who held them out to me.
“Green bridesmaids dresses.”
“I thought you were letting Vee pick them.”
My mom shot me a smile that looked a tad scary before shoving the dresses into my arms.
“I thought I’d lend a hand.”
“How kind of you,” I replied, the words sounding droller than I intended.
“Vee, they have some refreshments set out for you,” my mom said. “Let’s go relax while we wait for Sophia to model the dresses for us.”
My mom put her arm through a perplexed Vee’s and led her away.
I slid my gaze to Taylor. “What just happened?”
“Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d say your mom just circled the store and grabbed the ugliest green dresses she could find.”
I groaned. “Why would she do that? And why didn’t you stop her?”
Taylor held her hands up. “First of all, that woman is a force of nature. Stopping her is like trying to stop a tsunami. Second of all, she was probably just grabbing everything green she saw. It’s just coincidence that they’re all hideous.”
I made a face that would’ve done a tantrumming four-year-old proud before Taylor pushed me into the dressing room.
“See you out there,” she called cheerfully as she walked back to the viewing area.
I stood still for a second, lamenting my lot in life, and then began hanging the dresses on the hooks in the dressing room. Once that was done, I surveyed what was in front of me and came to a declarative decision: I didn’t want to try any of them on.
There was an array of greens—from forest to pea soup—but not a single one of them looked in any way flattering.
“Hi, Sophia? Your mom wanted me to see if you needed help?” Miranda called through the dressing room curtain.
“Not unless you’re a fairy godmother,” I whispered.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. No, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.” I clutched a hand to my chest as I looked around once more and finally pulled a dress off a hanger at random. I slipped it on, didn’t even bother to look in the mirror, and left the dressing room, holding up the poofy bottom of the dress as I went.
“Oh, don’t you look darling?” my mom said.
With the way Vee’s and Taylor’s eyes widened, I think “darling” was a misstatement.
I climbed up onto the pedestal and let the bottom of the dress unfurl as I watched in the mirrors.
“Is this entire dress made of organza?” I asked.
“Uh, I believe there’s some tulle as well,” Miranda said.
“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” I snarked. The dress was a shade away from being neon, and I hated every fiber that had been used to craft it.
My mom circled me like a vulture. “You look adorable. How does it feel?”
“Itchy.”
My mom tsked. “You’re so dramatic.”
“No, really, I think I’m getting a rash.”
Ignoring me, my mom turned to Vee. “What do you think, Veronica?”
I pleaded with my eyes as I watched Vee in the mirror.
“I think it’s maybe a little…busy.”
My mom’s face scrunched. “You think?”
“Mom, I look like Tinkerbell at Burning Man.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Try the next one.”
I practically sprinted back to the dressing room. Deciding to go in the opposite direction, I grabbed a slim-fitting emerald dress. However, it was so tight, I thought I was going to need a jar of Crisco to get it all the way on. Too bad I’d gone too far in the dressing process to turn back and practically dislocated a shoulder getting the spaghetti straps up. Once I was in, I took as deep a breath as the fabric would allow and left the dressing room.
“Ooh, sexy” were my mom’s first words when she saw me.
I immediately turned around and went back toward the dressing room.
“Wait, Sophia, let me get a better look at it.” Mom chased after me and ran a hand down the side of the bodice. “What’s this made of?”
“Pleather would be my guess.”
“Hmm, yeah, okay, maybe take this one off.”
I nodded vigorously and went back into the dressing room.
The fashion show from hell went on for a bit longer before I finally found a chiffon dress that slid on easily and didn’t make me break out in hives. My only issue with it was the color.
“I look like a lime,” I said as my mother inspected me.
“But a cute and well-ripened lime,” Taylor supplied.
I gave her a quelling look, which made her bite her lower lip to keep from laughing.
“I would definitely choose you for my drink,” Vee added.
I wasn’t sure when Vee had turned on me. Maybe somewhere around dress number five. I swayed a bit and watched the dress skim the pedestal.
“It’s pretty,” I finally admitted.
“I really think that’s the one,” Vee said.
“You think?” my mom said, and God help her, she sounded almost disappointed.
Why would she not want me to get the only seminormal green dress this store carried?
Vee nodded emphatically. Maybe she was on my side after all. If I’d had to try on one more green abomination, I might have had an honest-to-God hissy fit.
“Well, if this is what you like, Veronica, I guess this is it.”
“Awesome. I’ll go get dressed,” I said, jumping down from the pedestal.
“Wait, we have to get your measurements.”
“Nope, fits like a glove,” I replied, not slowing my pace.
“Sophia, you’re practically tripping over it.”
“Heels will fix it.” There was no way I was waiting for a seamstress to stick pins in it. I’d had enough.
Within ten minutes, we’d dragged my mother to the front to pay. The associate rang us up and read the total.
When she heard the amount, Vee blanched. “Honestly, Kate, this is very generous, but I want to pay for the dress.”
My mom waved her off. “Nonsense. This is my gift to you.”
“But the whole wedding is a gift from you. I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me get the dress.”
Mom smiled. “It’s very nice of you to offer, but I know the financial situation of college students.” She gestured at me. “I want you to have a beautiful dress without falling into debt over it.”
“I’m sure they have payment plans. I’d be much more comfortable if you’d let me handle it.”
Taylor and I swiveled our heads back and forth between them like we were watching a tennis match.
With Vee’s last words, my mom hesitated, and her face looked thoughtful. For a brief moment, I thought Vee had won.
Then Mom broke into a wide smile. “You’re sweet. But I got it.” And with that, she handed the associate her credit card, and that was that.
Vee was quiet on the ride home, and again, I was hit with another wave of regret that she was such a moral person. When my mom dropped us off in front of Brody’s apartment and drove away with a wave and promise she’d be in touch—which felt much more like a threat after the afternoon we’d just endured—I asked, “You guys want to hang out by the pool at our place and let the sun burn the memories of today from our bodies?”
“Yes, please,” Taylor said.
Vee sighed. “I’d love to, but I need to go upstairs and figure out how to pay your mom back for that dress.”
I wanted to argue that when Brody came clean about the whole thing, my mom would never expect Vee to repay her for the dress. And it was much more useful hanging in our attic so it could be used as a talisman of guilt that she could lord over Brody for the rest of his life. But I didn’t think Vee would believe that nor would it probably make her feel better.
“Brody is totally on the hook for that dress,” I said. “Not you.”
It didn’t look like that made her feel any better either, so I leaned in for a hug. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
She gripped me back, tighter than I would have expected. “Will do.”
When she pulled away, Taylor also embraced her before we said our goodbyes. When we were back in Taylor’s car, I slumped back in the seat.
“What a shitshow.”
Taylor began laughing. “It was so much fun to watch.”
“So glad you enjoyed it. I love being a source of entertainment for you.”
“I love it too!” Taylor put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space.
Once we’d gotten on our way, I turned to my best friend. “Hey, Tay?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we talk about earlier?”
I noticed Taylor’s grip tighten on the steering wheel.
“I guess.”
I wasn’t surprised she knew what I was referring to, only confirming that she had reacted oddly.
“You want to wait until we’re home?” I asked.
“No, I think I’d rather have something else to focus on while I talk.”
That sounded borderline unsafe, but whatever made her comfortable. I waited a minute for her to start speaking, but when she didn’t, I did.
“So what happened?”
Taylor took a deep breath. “A guy I was dating in the fall got a little…weird.”
“Weird how? And how come I didn’t know you were dating anyone?”
“It was super casual. We only went out like four times.”
“And then he got…weird?”
“Yeah,” she said on an exhale. “Well, I guess he was weird from the beginning, but it seemed kind of like quirky-weird and not I’m going to show up everywhere you are and force my presence on you weird.”
“Shit, is that what he did?” It suddenly made sense why my stalker joke had caused a reaction in her.
“Yeah.”
“Did you report it?” I asked.
She let out a humorless laugh. “What would I report? It’s not like he followed me down dark alleys or left me notes with letters cut out from magazines. He just happened to be places I was. Parties, bars, the cafeteria, the library, just random places. But it happened often enough that it couldn’t have been coincidence.”
“Did you call him out on it?”
She shot me a dry look. “Have we met?”
“And what did he say?”
“He accused me of being paranoid. Said he had a right to go wherever he wanted to go and how was he supposed to help it that we had so much in common that we liked to go the same places. And then he smiled at me and tried to strike up a conversation. I tried to stay as far from him as I could after that.”
“When did it stop?”
She glanced over at me. “When I left to come here.”
“Jesus Christ,” I practically yelled. “He did this all year?”
“Yeah.”
I was quiet for a couple of minutes, which was long enough for us to pull into the parking lot of our complex. Taylor parked, but neither of us moved to get out.
“I…I don’t know what to say. Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
Taylor emitted a frustrated sound that was almost a growl. “I don’t know. You had so much going on, and I—”
“I never, ever have too much going on to be there for you. I would’ve been out there in a hot minute if you’d needed me.”
“No, I know. But I was…embarrassed, I guess. I always try to put on this tough-as-nails persona, but honestly I barely stood up to this guy. Granted, I called him out on following me, but I didn’t get really crazy on him like I would’ve expected myself to. I even told my friends to just stay out of it and not confront him. I don’t know why. It’s like I just became this scared wimp all of a sudden.”
“Hey, look at me,” I said, my voice soft but firm. When her eyes met mine, I continu
ed. “You are the bravest person I know,” I said fiercely. “Not wanting to get into a confrontation with this guy doesn’t make you weak. It makes you smart.”
I saw the tears well in her eyes as her bottom lip began to wobble.
“I don’t want to go back to school next semester,” she said. And with that admission, she broke into sobs.
I gathered her as close as I could with the console between us. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure it out, Tay. Me, Drew, Brody, all of us—we have your back.”
She clutched me harder and let all her fears and frustration out. And I continued to hold her as she fell apart, thankful for the knowledge that I could help put her back together again afterward.
Chapter Twenty-Five
S O P H I A
“How do I look?”
I emerged from our bathroom expecting to find Taylor sitting on her bed where she’d been when I’d gone in to get ready a half hour ago. Instead, I found myself asking an empty room about my appearance.
A moment later, I heard her call from the kitchen. “Should I be like most of the male population and just say ‘great’ without looking at you?”
“I’d prefer that you don’t,” I answered, heading out of the bedroom. “I need an honest opinion.”
“And because you know I’d tell you if you looked like a harlot, you came to me?”
“Yes. Well, and also because I have no one else to ask.” I glanced down at the tight black dress that showed off my figure. “I don’t look like a harlot, do I?”
Taylor tossed some spaghetti into a boiling pot of water and leaned against the counter as she studied me.
“What? Should I go change? Is my eye shadow too much?” I headed over to the microwave and stared at my reflection, stooping down a bit because my heels added about four inches. “Is it my hair? Should I put it up or something?” I asked, turning back toward her.
“Relax,” she said. “I’m just taking it all in.”
She’d never been shy with her words, which was why I trusted her opinion more than anyone else’s, even if she hadn’t been the only one here. Not only would she not censor herself, but she had an innate sense of fashion.
Two Truths & a Lime (The Love Game Book 3) Page 20
