Delicate (9 page)

My jewelry probably doesn’t match my dress the best that it could, but
there’s
no way I’d pass up a chance to wear it. A thin strand of freshwater pearls and matching bracelet. They had been my mothers. She and my dad had vacationed in Monterey, California for their anniversary a couple of months before she was killed, and Dad had bought them for her on the trip. The pearls
are
simple and beautiful, just like my mom was. I’d been waiting for a special occasion to take them out of my jewelry box. I k
eep
them locked up
.
T
hey were more valuable than any medal of any color
I’d
ever won.

“You look perfect,” Tessa says sweetly, gesturing toward the pearls. I smile back at her, just as Quinn stomps her foot on the wood floor impatiently with her hand resting on her hip.

“Easy, Quinn, we’re coming,” Tessa says.

Tess’s mom floats by excitedly as we hurry down the stairs.

“Come on! The boys are outside!” she says, grabbing her camera off the mantel. My stomach twists. This is it. I take a long, deep breath. This is the night I will always remember. The biggest night of my life so far.

Tessa’s family has a beautiful home. The back deck overlooks a large pond, the perfect backdrop for our photos.

I smile when I see Trevor with Quinn’s date Daniel, and Tessa’s date Oliver near the water. I feel a little guilty that Trevor is here with all of my friends, rather than
with his before his own senior prom. We had compromised though- we’d meet here with my friends, since all of his would be at the lake house afterward.

For once I’m able to sneak up behind Trevor. I playfully grab his sides and he turns around, with a big, cheesy grin plastered across his face. He picks me up and whirls me around effortlessly. I feel like a giddy kid.

“You are stunning,” he says. He nuzzles his nose into the nape of my neck and holds me at eye level in his sturdy arms.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I murmur. I see the effect I have on him when the skin on his neck is cover
ed
in goose bumps. I never realized that I could make him nervous, too. I hear Tessa’s mom shouting directions of where to stand, and how to pose for the photos, but I ignore her and kiss Trevor instead.

“Seriously, guys, quit so Tess’s mom will shut up,” Quinn says.

“All right,” Trevor says. He kisses me lightly once more, then sets me down.

The photo shoot seems to go on forever before
,
thankfully, Tess’s mom
’
s camera battery dies. She tells us all to wait for her backup battery, but Tess finally convince
s
her that she’
s
gotten enough shots so we c
an
leave.

As soon as Trevor tosses my overnight bag into his Range Rover, we’re on our way. Prom is being held at an historic theatre in downtown Atlanta. The theme is “A Night on the Nile,” mostly because the event was being held in the Egyptian ballroom of the restored theatre, and our prom committee was less than creative. I hadn’t been to the theatre since my mom took Maisy and
me
to see The Nutcracker about five years ago.

Trevor reaches over and takes my hand with his free hand,
while
the other rests on the bottom of the steering wheel.

“You really do look beautiful,” he says, kissing the top of each of my knuckles. “Are you ready?” he asks as we pull into the parking lot.

“Totally ready.”

People are spilling out onto the streets of the theatre
,
waiting to get inside. I’m glad I have a little extra height, thanks to my heels
,
and am able to find Quinn and Tessa easily.

“Nervous?” Trevor asks as we make our way through the crowd.

“Nope. Not at all,” I lie. I look up to see if he buys my faux confidence, but he’s already surveying the room
,
looking for his friends.

The inside of the theatre is phenomenal. I guess
I’d
half
-
expected to see crepe paper and balloons, but
,
instead, the formal room overwhelms me. It looks like it was decorated for a real ball or a black tie wedding, not some high school kids’ dance.

There’s a grand marble stairway, trays of elegant finger foods, and most of my classmates are unrecognizable in their formal
wear
.

Trevor leads me to the dance floor, and my nerves return. I’m not that great of a dancer. I’m better at precise, choreographed movements, like in gymnastics
,
rather than things that require actual rhythm. Luckily, there are a few slow songs that I can manage.

When the loud, thumping bas
s
returns, I start to pull away.

“I’m just going to…” I don’t even have to finish. Trevor nods with a grin. He’s such a good sport. “I’m going to see if I can find Quinn and Tess.”

“That’s fine,” he says. The cheesy smile hasn’t left his face all night. I can’t even imagine what it will look like in the morning.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. I’m just happy. Go. Find your friends. I’ll be here when you’re done,” he says. Two of his lacrosse team mates have perfect timing and I leave him to catch up with them.

I survey the room looking for Quinn or Tess, but the crowd is too thick for me to see anything, even taking into account the high heels making me almost the height of a normal human being. I don’t know if it’s claustrophobia from the sea of people, or the fact that I haven’t really eaten today, but I start to feel shaky and weak. I make my way to the food tables and grab a piece of chocolate
-
covered honeydew. I glance across the table for something salty to pair with the sweet melon. The tasty looking crostinis remind me of something that Quinn made a while back and I reach for one, just as someone else reaches for the same.

“Sorry,” I say. I jerk my hand back.

“It’s all yours,” the polite voice says. He places the hors d’oeurve on my plate. Grant. Looking nothing short of dashing. His messy hair is slightly more tame than usual, but not by much. He isn’t wearing a tux like every other guy here
.
I
nstead,
he’s dressed in
a simple gray suit and thick black tie.

“Oh,” I say. I’m suddenly flustered.

“Sydney,” he greets me with a nod.

“Thanks,” I say, picking up the tiny piece of bread he just sacrificed.

“Don’t mention it. You look nice.”

I glance around the room, trying to place Trevor in the crowd, hoping to myself that he has his back to me somewhere.

“Thanks. Who are you here with?” I ask.

“Shayna Gillan,” he says. Of course. Shayna Gillan, the quintessential high school girl that has it all. She’s obnoxiously beautiful, wealthy, on every committee imaginable.
And,
naturally
, a cheerleader.
I’m actually surprised she’s here with Grant, only because she typically dates older guys exclusively. I guess if you were to make an exception to your rule, though, Grant would be worth it. I mentally scold myself for thinking about him like that.

“Huh,” I mutter.

“She asked, and I didn’t want to be rude,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Of course not. Well, have a good time,” I say, turning slowly away from him.

“Sydney,” he calls after me.

I spin around, wondering what on earth there is possibly left to say between us.

“If I had my choice, I’d be here with someone else tonight.”

I feel my cheeks fill with color
,
and
I
just stand there speechless. He looks totally sincere, his deep eyes gazing at me thoughtfully. Hadn’t we already been over this, though?

I’m so dazed, Shayna manages to appear out of nowhere, linking her overly tan arm through Grant’s and clutching him close. I can’t be sure, but I swear he winced away from her touch. Shayna looks stunning. Her long, blonde hair flows into perfect curls down her back, and her dress is way too sophisticated for a high school dance. It’s gold and completely beaded,
and
the front plunges so low, I’m surprised it successfully covered anything at all. I’m certain there was some sort of tape involved.

“There you are,” Quinn says, walking up with Tess, both of their eyebrows pe
a
ked.

I nod. “Um, Grant, these are my best friends, Quinn and Tessa. And you guys both know Shayna.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Grant says politely.

Shayna is looking increasingly annoyed.

“Your dress is gorgeous,” I say to her.

Her lips form a tight line.
She’s
so damn unapproachable.

“It should be for what I paid for it. I had to have it made especially for me since I have a twenty-two inch waist, you know,” she states smugly.
I will not roll my eyes. I will not roll my eyes. I will not roll my eyes.

Quinn scoffs. “Well, we can’t all be blessed with an overactive gag reflex,” she says.

I elbow her in the ribs, but it doesn’t remove the smirk from her face.

“Quinn!” I snap, just as Shayna squints her eyes at us and drags Grant away.

“What?” she asks, trying to sound innocent. She isn’t a very good actress.

“So, what’s going on with you and Grant?” Tessa asks.

Not her, too.

“Nothing, we were just saying hello,” I mutter and finally shove the crostini into my mouth.

“Is that allowed?” Quinn asks.

“Stop,” I say, swallowing. “Are you guys having fun?” I ask, trying to change the subject. This is becoming a common practice.

“Not really,” Quinn says. “Prom is pretty lame. I wish I was coming out to the lake house with the rest of you.”

I tense up again, realizing how close the big event is.

“How are you and Oliver getting along?” I ask Tess.

“Okay. He doesn’t talk much, though. We danced a little. I just don’t know if he’s really into me,” she says. I polish of the melon and throw my plate into the garbage. I look up and see Trevor headed our direction. The smile on his face leads me to believe he didn’t see me talking to Grant, and that relief is amazing.

“Hey you, wanna dance?” he asks.