Don't Kiss Him Good-Bye (19 page)

As we walked into Be@titude, the door chimes twinkled a merry hello. Becky was helping a customer and there was another one in line, but she gave me a little wave to show she’d be right with me. It felt really grown-up, actually, having the store owner recognize me.

“Over here,” I said to Mom. I headed to the rack where the tea green dress had been a few weeks back when I’d been here with Penny. As I looked through the rack for my size, the dresses were so thick and some so puffy that they crushed into each other. At first glance, I couldn’t find the one I was looking for. “Maybe it’s pressed between some of the other dresses,” I said. I went through every dress in that size. Nothing.

“It’s gone,” I said. I just knew it. Truthfully, I would have been surprised if such a great dress had still been there.

“Let’s look in the other sizes,” Mom said. “If there’s a larger one, we could have it taken in.”

I shook my head. “Nope. Becky only buys one of each style. She told me herself.” I looked up and Becky caught my eye, smiled, and turned her attention to the woman she was helping. The first customer had already completed her purchase, so I knew I was next.

“There have to be some other beauties,” Mom said. She held up a yellow gossamer number.

“Mom, I’d look like Rapunzel in that,” I said. “Yellow washes me out.”

“This?”

I grimaced. Lavender was fine for flowers, but not for a gown. I finally found one in deep red that might work. It looked more fall than spring, but hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers, right? This was what came of waiting till the last minute. Not that I could help it.

Becky walked over. “Hullo, Savvy. Thanks for waiting. This must be your mum?”

Mom held out her hand. “So pleased to meet you. Savvy’s told me all about you and your ministry here.”

Becky grinned. “You’re raising a top journalist,” she said. “I fully expect to see her byline in the
Times
of London someday.”

“I hope to see it in the
Times
of Wexburg Academy first,” I teased. “So would you help me find a dress?” I tried to keep the disappointment over the loss of the tea green gown out of my voice.

“Going to the May Day Ball after all, then?”

I nodded. I knew I wasn’t beaming, but I was pleased.

“I might have something in the back,” she said. Mom and I looked at shoes while we waited. A few minutes later she swished out of the back with a dress in a clear plastic bag.

“Faeries!” I squealed. “That’s it, Mom; that’s it!”

Becky laughed out loud. “I just had a feeling that you’d end up at the May Day Ball. I set it in the back figuring I’d sell it during wedding season if not now. But I’m very glad it’s going home with its rightful owner.” She held the hanger out to me, and I dashed toward the try-on rooms in the back.

I wriggled out of my jeans and sweater and slipped the gown over my head. It fell . . . perfectly. It fit me in all the right places, neither too tight nor too loose. It brought out the natural highlights in my hair. I wouldn’t need to wear high heels to pull it off—and giraffe over Rhys, who was the same height as me.

I stepped out of the changing room and onto the showroom floor, debuting the dress in my anklets and no shoes.

“Oh, Savvy, that is perfect,” Mom said. “It’s exactly you.”

I twirled a little for effect—something I hadn’t done since I’d tried out for the baton-twirling team as a kid.

“Shall I bag it up, then?” Becky asked.

“Not if that means I have to take it off!” I said.

She and Mom laughed. “Today is not a good day to walk home in a ball gown,” Becky said. “I have just the accessory for you.” She reached into the glass cabinet up front and took out a tiny pair of peridot earrings. “They’ll twinkle just a little bit in the mirror-ball lights.”

I went to take the dress off, running my hand down it once more before handing it over to Becky. Mom arranged to pick up the dress later that week when she had the car. After we paid, I slipped the earrings into my purse, a promise of the night to come.

“Have you talked with Rhys much since you agreed to go?” Mom asked on the walk home. “Are you going to have him match your colors? Maybe you should text him so he can get a tie or cummerbund that matches your dress.”

“Good idea.” I didn’t mention that he was grounded from his phone for some unknown reason and that while Ian had my number, I didn’t have his. “Or I’ll tell him on Monday.”

Chapter 40

The next week flew by pretty quickly. I had a lot of work to do—they always poured it on before the term break, which was coming after the May Day Ball this year in order to take advantage of the bank holiday. I had a lot of homework and was particularly proud of my essay on Katherine Parr, the last queen of Henry VIII and, as far as I could tell, the first Protestant Christian queen.

On Thursday I arrived at the paper office early so I could get everything delivered and still have time to study for a trig quiz. Natalie was there, typing away and ignoring the depressing vibe she radiated in every direction.

“Hi, Savannah,” she said, starting a conversation with me for like the first time ever. I was immediately
en garde
, a new phrase I’d learned in French.

“Hi, Natalie.” I went about my business, loading up my bag with that morning’s papers.

“I hear you’re going to the May Day Ball,” she said. I looked up. “Melissa mentioned it.”

I knew Melissa had been trying to be nice and show Natalie that I had plans for the ball even if they didn’t include writing the article. Still. “I am.”

“With Rhys Bowen.”

Wow, she knew his last name. “Yeah. I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“We met last year,” she said. “Before I moved. We’d consoled each other about how hard it was to move in secondary school.”

Well, then. Rhys must have a thing for journalists. Or he’d needed help last year, too. Or he was a big player. Or he was nice to everyone. Or all of the above. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d known her when he called her Nasty Natalie. Though come to think of it, I remembered his saying that he liked journalists. But that he didn’t know any.

“That’s nice,” I said. Part of me thought,
You’re two mushy peas in a pod
. The other part of me felt ashamed for thinking that about my friend and May Day date. Who had . . . lied to me?

I loaded the bag and prayed the entire time I made my deliveries. Not my usual prayers about keeping my Asking for Trouble column a secret or for Louanne or for this whole boy mess. I repented of the way I’d begun to think and speak and asked the Lord to help me, to give me the answer about what I should do to get back to being myself.

Chapter 41

Rhys found me after school. I didn’t mention Natalie to him. For some reason I didn’t want him to know that I knew.

“Hey, Savannah.” He slid onto the bench alongside me. “I’m glad to finally find you alone. You’re always surrounded with people, and we can never be alone.”

“Busy week,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on too.”

“Yeah.” He reached out to take my hand. I thought he was going to put something in it, so I let him take it, but then he enfolded my hand in his and squeezed it shut. I let my backpack slip off my shoulder so I could remove my hand from his to right it again. Then I slipped my hand into my pocket.

“Any chance we could hang out this weekend? to see a film or something?”

I shook my head. “Maybe . . . but . . .”

“As friends . . . good friends,” he said. “Don’t you ever go to movies with friends, Savannah?”

“It’s my dad’s birthday this weekend,” I said. “I’m afraid I’m really busy. Sorry. We can talk Monday?” Two weeks till the dance. The money my parents had spent. The day-after garden and tea party. And I was a girl who kept her word. I was going to keep it to Rhys.

“Too bad,” he said. “We could have had a good time. If you know how to have a good time, that is.”

I looked at him.

“I’m just kidding.” His voice was sincere, but his eyes were not. “Monday it is. I’ll be thinking of you till then!” He grinned. I could still see the wolfish good looks that had originally drawn me to him, but I felt like maybe I was starting to see a glimpse of something more.