I was defeated when I left the cafeteria, then sad when I came in the bathroom stall, but now I’m just pissed off. I’m over it. I’m over the idea of being queen of a school that never accepted me until I started dating their star athlete. “I’m going home.”
“You just got here.”
“And it was a mistake coming in.” I push around him, realizing we have an audience as at least ten other girls listen to our conversation while they pretend to fix their hair in front of the mirrors.
“Sunny, wait. Please.”
“I can’t.”
“Stay here, then. Talk to me. You know I can’t leave. I’ll get benched if I skip.”
Right now, I want to be far away from him. I’m mad at him for not accepting Carson when I need him, and I’m mad that I even have to choose Carson in the first place. But the one I’m the most angry with could be almost anywhere in the world right now—my father.
Rhett continues to plead with me the entire way to the lobby, but nothing he could say would ever convince me to stay—not when I feel this low. When I glance back at the school, he’s still there watching me leave with his hands against the glass of the door. I don’t have a good view of his face, but even from here, I can tell how disappointed he is.
By the time I get home, I’m still trying to calm myself down. Carson’s getting out of his car, and I quickly check to see if my red eyes are still puffy. He catches me looking in the mirror, even though I try to hide it. He taps on the window, nodding his head toward the house—my signal that he wants me to go inside with him.
“Where were you?” he asks, as I get out of my car.
“School. It was a big mistake.”
“Still not feeling well?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay. It’s been a bad day though—they nominated me for homecoming court. Now I have all these responsibilities and outfits to buy. It’s ridiculous.”
“Don’t most girls go ape shit for that stuff?”
“I’m not most girls, I guess.”
We walk up the stairs to the apartment, side by side. He unlocks the door, and pushes it open, allowing me to go inside first. After we dump our stuff in our rooms, we both end up on opposite ends of the couch, like usual.
“Wanna tell me about it?”
“Not much to tell.”
He raises his eyebrows, not buying my answer at all. “You don’t cry unless you’re upset.”
I grab the throw pillow next to me, hugging it close to my body. “Rhett and I argued after Mandi said some stuff at lunch. Long story short, it was one giant disagreement and here I am.”
“What did you argue about?”
I chew on my lip, not sure I want to open this can of worms, but it’s Carson, and we’ve had talks like these so many times before—even if he wasn’t normally part of the problem. “You mostly. I told him I was considering asking you to be my escort.”
“I don’t imagine that went over well.”
“It didn’t,” I tell him, still able to hear Rhett’s disappointment as he spoke to me in the bathroom stall.
He taps my leg with his foot, forcing me to look at him. When I do, his warm brown eyes swallow me up when he says, “You know I’ll do it. If you want me there, all you have to do is ask.”
I look away, suddenly interested in the stitching of the pillow I’m holding. “Thanks, I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. I told Rhett I wasn’t going to go if you weren’t with me. He didn’t like that either.”
“Wow, you did have a rough afternoon. Why don’t we go to the mall? Retail therapy always helps.”
I’m hesitant, but I do need a dress at the very least. “You actually want to go shopping? Isn’t that torture for you? Wyatt used to moan and groan when I’d ask him to take me.”
He stares at me, rolling his eyes. “Wyatt’s high maintenance, but I’m here to help you. You need clothes don’t you?”
“Yes, I need a dress for the dance and a business suit for the game. I still don’t know why we have to look like a bunch of secretaries at a football game, but it’s tradition.”
“See, you need shit. So, if you want to go, lets do it.”
I smile, thankful he volunteered himself. Chances are, I wouldn’t have ever gone on my own. “Okay, but when you’ve had enough, just say the words, and we can leave.”
“I promise I’ll survive.”
The mall is pretty empty considering it’s only one o’clock in the afternoon on a school day. We even get a parking spot close to the main entrance. “Where do you want to go first?” Carson asks, as he walks around the back end of his car.
“I have no idea. First place we come to, I guess.”
We cross the parking lot, and walk with purpose down the corridor inside the mall. Carson laughs when the first store is in front of us. “I’m not sure this is going to cut it.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. First store that sells dresses.” We’re standing in front of Hot Topic of all places. The exact opposite of what I’m looking for.
After walking for a couple more minutes, we’re inside Macy’s, heading toward the juniors’ department. I browse the racks, and once I have three choices in my hands, we find the nearest dressing room.
There’s a chair next to the entrance, and Carson plops into it. “Go for it,” he says. “Toss’em out to me if you don’t like them.”
“How are you so good at this? It almost seems like you like shopping.”
He smiles. “I like shopping with you, Kins. There’s a difference. Plus, you forget I have three older sisters. I’ve been through this show more than once.”
“I’ll hurry,” I tell him, as I slip inside the first dressing room. I wish I had enough time to make something of my own, but with work and school, plus my assignments, I’ll never get it done in time.
I unzip the first dress, a bright blue taffeta with a halter style neck. Stepping into it, I pull it up and over my hips, but when I pull the zipper up, it’s a little too snug.
A full-length, black satin dress is next. The fabric is cool against my skin, even giving me goosebumps as it trails down my legs to the floor. Right away I know it’s not the one. This too, goes back on the hanger.
They say the third times the charm, and I think it might be when I slide into a white dress with three-quarter length sleeves, a cut-out back, and silver, sequin scrollwork. The hem hits mid-thigh, and though it’s shorter than I imagined myself wearing, it’s my favorite.
“Are you planning on showing me any of the dresses?” Carson asks, as he sticks his head around the corner so I can hear him.
I open my door, running my hands down the front of the dress, making sure the sequins are lying flat against the material of the dress. “The first two didn’t work, but I think I like this one.”
“Shit,” Carson says, catching my attention.
When I look at him, his eyes are fixated on my legs, and they slowly work their way up the rest of my body. He says nothing, just continues to stare at me with a nearly blank expression. “It’s too short, isn’t it? I can try on another one. Just let me get changed.”
He shakes his head, words failing him. “No,” he mumbles.
“Tell me the truth. I want your honest opinion.”
Finally, he says, “You look amazing, Kinsley. That’s the one.”
“Really?”
He holds out his hand, and I walk toward him. “You want the truth?”
I nod my head. “Always.”
“Okay, the truth.” He pauses for a moment, and I have no idea where his mind is. Wherever it is, it looks pretty serious. “Rhett’s a lucky guy. I hope he knows it.”
I take my hand out of his, letting it drop to my side. “I hope so too, Carson.”
Like he’s trying to pull himself out of a fog, he blinks a couple times. I catch my reflection in the mirror once more before walking back into my dressing room. Closing the door, I lean against it, needing a second to shake off whatever just happened out there.